Disclaimer: I do not own Sonic the Hedgehog or any of the characters in this story. I only own Scarlet, Iris, and Cecelia Rose, OC's I made to serve as parents for the Rouge, Shadow and Amy respectively. Other made up parents are not named and will only be mentioned in passing.

Title is inspired by lyrics from Flyleaf's song Amy Says. Chapter is also inspired by Flyleaf's song This Close.

*Trigger warning: Depictions of child sexual abuse. Graphic depictions of body parts, blood, and violence.*

3 Amy Says She's All Alone

"Gah haha, sorry for the dramatics. Maybe claiming this day as the end of Station Square is a bit of an exaggeration. Rather, think of this coming sunrise as the rebirth of this wonderful city."

Amy rubbed her eyes, looking around to make sure she was in fact awake, in the comfort of her home. When she turned to the screen to address the chunky man smiling widely at her, she noted that he looked like he had a screw loose. The clock on the wall read 5:38am, and the smell of her laundry detergent mixed with a dash of mildew made her brows furrow.

"Oh, but where are my manners? Citizens of Station Square, my name is Doctor Robotnik, machine extraordinaire and the mastermind behind many a world-ending scheme. I make your acquaintance on this bloody Friday morning to explain the reason for my conquest of your city."

Amy found herself staring at the smooth crown of the doctor's head as he moved to bow on screen. He was too close to the camera and the screen blurred, the lens focusing on the figure behind the doctor for a second. Tied to a chair with tape across her mouth, an early morning reporter fidgeted in the background. Then, the mad doctor's face filled the screen again.

What in chaos…?

"Now, If you look out your window, you are likely to find some of your loved ones are not quite the same as they were the day before. I am to thank for that."

The pinkette squinted at the madman, shifting out of the suffocating blanket and pushing her textbook aside. She frowned at her discarded laptop, resting face first on the floor, likely tossed to the side in her sleep. But as the doctor held her attention, she reflected on the strange encounters from last night, realizing that each instance wasn't an isolated occurrence, but were indeed connected.

"You may have also noticed a scattered shower last night that wasn't quite as refreshing as your usual storm. This is also my doing. You see, I dispersed a chemical that turns you wonderful Mobians into mindless, flesh-eating monsters. It's glorious, really. A feat worthy of the history books! That is, if there are any of you vermin left to tell the tale."

The doctor took a moment to cackle uncontrollably, ending his bout with a ragged cough. He patted his chest and tamed his coughing fit, thoughtfully stroking his mustache a moment. He cleared his throat.

"Now, I understand that this may seem like the end of Mobius as you know it, but I'm not here to create problems just for the fun of it. I come bearing viable solutions as well. Here are my demands."

Amy crossed her arms and sat straight, listening intently.

"Your government officials are hiding things of great value in this city, things that rightfully belong to me as the grandson of the great Gerald Robotnik. I simply want them returned to me."

Amy's ears perked at the name. She glanced at her discarded textbook as gears started to turn in her head. An odd feeling rose in her, something akin to guilt as she realized this madman was related to the mastermind behind Project S, a mystery she'd engrossed herself in with delight. She felt dirty knowing anything about the project now, thinking herself indirectly responsible for the chaos plaguing the city.

What is going on? How is it that the day after my teacher plays a documentary about Gerald Robotnik's research that his grandson terrorizes the city? This is unbelievable.

"What are these things, you ask? Well, though my belongings are likely classified, I will tell you a bit about them. Maybe then you can put a bit of pressure on your local officials to act so as to end this living nightmare quickly."

Amy frowned, her TV flickering as the doctor brought up a finger.

"I only ask for a few of my belongings. The first are a set of powerful gems, seven of them to be exact. You may know of them as the chaos emeralds. Though they are known as a pinnacle of hope in your great Mobian history, those emeralds belonged to my grandfather for a time. Though the matter of ownership comes into question since my grandfather in fact took these from your planet, I believe they would be best in my possession, given I can make proper use of these artifacts."

The chaos emeralds… are real? There's no way. Those are just a myth, magical rocks that only ever come up in Mobian folklore and bedtime stories. This man has lost his mind.

"The last is something I only know by name. What it is exactly, I could not tell you, but in researching the truth about my deceased grandfather, I discovered his legacy was alive and well after being confiscated by your favorite intergalactic agency of peace: G.U.N. In tracking this item, I discovered that they've hidden this thing somewhere within your city under strict watch, likely due to its destructive nature. This item goes by the name Project S."

Amy's heart sank. She swallowed to wet her dry throat.

Project S is here in the city?

"Currently, I have Station Square blocked off from the rest of Mobius by way of force field, so you may find any efforts to evacuate pointless. I will allot you all 7 days to return my items to me. In the event I do not receive my belongings by sundown on the seventh day, I will not hesitate to turn the rest of you flesh eating freaks and then let you loose onto the rest of Mobius."

The loopy doctor started cackling again when he stopped himself with a thought.

"Oh, one last thing. It is imperative that I have the emeralds and Project S, for I need both to create the antidote for this mess I've created. One without the other will not suffice."

Amy shivered and wrapped her arms around herself at his chilling smile.

"Goodluck, Station Square. I look forward to your cooperation."

Static filled the air as the broadcast cut out. Amy shrank into the couch, her head opting to count the little textured bumps in the ceiling. When she started to lose her mind, she finally sat up.

"So this is what the end of the world looks like…"

~aAa~

Dampened light peeked through the living room curtain, failing to faze the pink hedgehog who kept her eyes transfixed on the television screen. Her eyes were already glazed over as the morning news broadcast showed aerial shots of the city, a red bar of emergency text lining the bottom of the screen. The reporter stood in a wrecked area of the city, huddled under the shadow of a building as screams and sirens sounded around her.

"...headed northbound is blocked off right where it intersects with green valley boulevard, keeping morning travelers from entering the northeastern section of Mushroom Hill, where the doctor has commandeered a government building and barricaded the doors, locking himself in. Authorities have already surrounded the building and are working to apprehend the doctor as the remaining forces focus on the safety of the uninfected citizens. Still, chaos overtakes the city as family and friends turn on their loved ones to attack and infect them with the doctor's chemical, creating more flesh-eating monsters."

Amy folded her legs and pressed them to her chest as her heart rate soared. She was lightheaded, absorbing each scene that flitted on her screen as if it were a movie. Smokestacks and car wrecks overtook the screen for a moment, then switched to an overview of the city from the top, Mobians scattered across the streets like ants scrambling from a destroyed ant hill. The little pinkette shook as she tried to sink deeper into the couch, flinching as the screen showed a close up of an infected little girl slamming onto a window, screeching as she tried to get to the poor citizens cowering behind the glass.

The reporter ended her segment and the program transitioned to another news anchor. This new speaker was half dressed, his hair smoothed, but distressed at the ends, his tie loose and under eyes dark. Still, he looked into the camera back at Amy with a shaky reassurance, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded the camera stoically.

"Officials are currently gathering to address the demands of the mad scientist, Doctor Robotnik, who has taken over the city and infected thousands of locals with an unknown chemical that has turned them into mindless creatures with a seeming hunger for their fellow citizens. G.U.N. authorities and local police are working together to protect all uninfected citizens and are currently implementing an emergency plan to separate them from the infected."

Hope budded in Amy's chest. She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, focussing on the crisis instructions listed on the screen in red.

"G.U.N. has cleared out several buildings and turned them into safehouses to temporarily house uninfected individuals. A rescue squad of trained soldiers are working to escort all uninfected citizens from their homes to the nearest safehouse, starting from the northwestern end of the city and making their way southeast. Authorities ask that all citizens of Station Square stay inside and lock all doors until they arrive. They also urge citizens to stay away from infected individuals and only ingest bottled water, as they fear the water supply may be contaminated. If any family or friends are infected, keep them outside and do not let them in for any reason."

"So t-that's it? We're just supposed to sit around and wait for someone to come and save us?" Amy said to herself.

As the segment continued, a thud made her shout, her adrenaline shooting so quickly throughout her body that she let go of the remote. Right as she dropped it, another thud sounded and she realized that someone was at her door. She swallowed and picked herself up from the couch, headed for the barricaded door. She waited in the small hallway to the door and focussed on the peephole that seemed unreachable with the table and chairs in her way. She hesitated, thinking better of answering the door given the instructions from the broadcast.

Maybe it's the neighbor? Or mom? Maybe G.U.N. is already here to get me? No, it can't be them. I'm on the far side of town. There's no way they're already here.

Voices rose and fell from the TV as she climbed onto the table. She propped herself up above one of the overturned chairs and lined her eye up to the hole. Under the flickering lights, the gray hair of her elderly neighbor came to view. The woman's back was to the door and her body trembled lightly as old people usually did.

Mrs. Lyco?

The pinkette shifted her weight, causing the chair to grind against the table. Amy watched Mrs. Lyco jerk back at the sound, the old woman's ear twitching as her body rotated shakily. As Amy thought to open the door for the poor lady, her heart sank as she noticed a deep red on her neighbors nightgown. On closer inspection, the woman's hands were speckled with dark red spots, her nails broken.

"C-chaos."

The TV peaked as it blasted the music of an incoming news segment. Amy was only able to blink once before Mrs. Lyco covered the peephole as she slammed against the door with an otherworldly cry. Amy fell from the table onto her back with a scream, a chair clattering to the floor beside her, narrowly avoiding her fingers. Though her mind was overwhelmed, Amy caught the movement of the door shuddering against the frame as her neighbor tried to make her way in.

"No!"

She crawled backward on her hands and knees until she was in the middle of the kitchen. In an instant, she got to her feet and threw open all the drawers until she came across a butcher knife. Taking it between two hands in a rush, she backed away into the corner of the small dining area, her back hitting the wall as she slid to the floor. As her lips quivered, she covered her mouth with a hand, holding the knife close to her chest as her neighbor shoved on the door relentlessly, screeching and groaning. The next reporter's voice was loud enough to drown out her sobs, and Amy worked to keep her wet eyes open as she waited to see if her neighbor would breach her door.

The second chair fell from its perch, slamming against the second chair before clattering against the wall and then the floor. The noise echoed as Amy tensed, her tears streaming as she cowered. She flinched at each bang against her door, her neighbor seeming to amp up her efforts at the sound of her chairs slamming against each other.

She's going to kill me…

The TV transitioned into a commercial, a pop song making the speakers thump. It was then that Amy noticed a pattern as her neighbor shoved the door angrily at the new sound.

She's attracted to the noise!

She got to her feet, facing the door as she hurried to the couch, dropping to her knees in search of the remote. When she touched it, she shook so much that it took her three tries to click the mute button. With the TV silenced, the banging against her door calmed. As Amy crawled back into her corner in the dining area, clutching the knife, her neighbor groaned as if she were disappointed. Still in distress, Amy breathed heavily, but listened to her neighbor slam her body against the door with less vigor.

"Chaos, please make her go away."

Hours passed and Amy woke to an eerie silence, not realizing she'd drifted to sleep amid her neighbors failed infiltration. She was still nestled in the corner of the kitchen, the knife discarded onto the linoleum. With a dry cough and a squint, she found the time on the wall and realized it was a little after one in the afternoon. She thanked Chaos that her neighbor no longer beat against her door, but other questions began to plague her.

Where did Mrs. Lyco go?

Her stomach screamed, though the thought of food made her nauseous. Still, she leaned on the wall for assistance as she tried to get to her shaking feet. Shuffling as quietly as she could to the fridge, she found it relatively empty, closing it to reach high for the loaf of bread she hoped was still floating around. She fingered the bag and pulled out a slice, nibbling on a corner. She faced the front door and eyed it wearily.

Mom still hasn't come home. And without my phone I can't check on any of my friends. In all of these years, I never thought to memorize any of their numbers…

Her stomach's cries turned to pain after eating half of the dry bread slice. She tossed it in the garbage and grabbed a bottle of water from the small panty. Weary, she moved to her bedroom as quietly as possible, sparing a few glances to the front door. She closed the door to her bedroom, swallowing deeply as she chugged her water.

Someone will come for me soon. I just need to stay quiet and keep busy somehow…

Surrounded by her meager belonging, she sat on her bed in thought. She couldn't find it in her to sleep, but she still felt vulnerable, as if she were standing right in the middle of enemy fire, waiting for them to strike. Wanting to rid herself of the feeling, she wrapped herself in her comforter, opting to stare at her bedroom door as her thoughts raced.

I hope everyone is okay. Sonic, Sonia, and Manic have each other and they live closer to the northwest side of town than the rest of us, so I'm sure they must have been evacuated already. Cream also lives in that area, so her and her mother have to be safe. Tails, Blaze, Silver, Shadow, and the Chaotix are closer to the Mushroom Hill area, but they are still more likely to get evacuated before me. Knuckles and Rouge live closer to my side of town, so they're in the same boat as me, waiting for however long to get help…

Another hour passed and the pinkette found herself pacing in her room. With each twist and shift of her body, she moved from thought to frantic thought. Her hands were in her hair, then they were picking at a scab on her arm. She bit several of her nails down to the nub before the pain registered and balled them into throbbing fists.

I wish last night hadn't happened. I was chased, grabbed, and rejected... And now I'm alone. If only Sonic had come for me in the park, then maybe I could be with him right now, in a safe house …. If he cared about me at all, maybe he'd come for me now…Sonic…Sonic….

She spiraled. Images of Sonic and Sally started to surface, reminding her of the truth before she attempted to block them out. She tried to focus on the others. Having no way to contact her friends, she tried to think outside of the box, opening her closet and pulling out her childhood journals and notes, hoping to find old landline numbers, emails, anything to connect her to her friends. When that failed, she left her room to grab her laptop, crouching to the ground as she logged into her social media accounts, thankful to still have access to the internet. She never really used the applications and her cheap flip phone was too ancient to support the software, so when she successfully logged into one, the barren nature of her account made her draw a blank. It took her twenty minutes to figure out how to message anyone, finally opting to send a group message asking if everyone was okay.

Please someone respond, anyone…

Suddenly, the landline rang. She tossed the laptop aside and threw herself against the wall where the phone rested, snatching it desperately.

"H-hello? Mom?" Amy asked.

"Amy? Amy, are you there?"

Amy's skin prickled as the panicked voice of Cream washed over her.

"Cream! Cream, are you and your mom okay?" Amy asked.

Crackling came from the other end of the line. Cream's voice came in pieces, the small girl's fright drawing tears from the pinkette as she listened.

"I-I don't… what t-to do! Mama opened the door… but they were attacked… there's blood everywhere! I –"

Cream's voice cut in and out, making Amy's hair stand on end as she tried to piece together the young rabbit's story.

"Cream, it's going to be okay! Just breath," Amy said.

"I c-can't, I–"

Cream's breathing only picked up, her ragged breathing clogging the line.

"H-hey, listen. I'm gonna come get you and your mom, o-okay? Your mom and I will keep you safe. A-as long as we're together, we can figure everything out. But I just need you to breathe first, okay?"

Amy could hear Cream inhale deeply before releasing a miserable breath.

"O-okay."

A sharp blow from the other end of the line and Cream's scream made Amy pull the phone from her ear. What she heard as she recovered made her blood run cold.

"Mama!" Cream screamed.

"Cream, we have to —"

"Cream!" Amy shouted into the phone.

The awful, otherworldly hiss of the infected creatures filled the line, followed by gunshots that made Amy flinch uncontrollably. Deep footsteps followed and the unfamiliar voices of what Amy assumed were G.U.N. soldiers were all she could hear now.

"Get back!"

"Take out those first! Gah!"

"I c-can't, sir! There are too many!"

The line went dead.

Amy let the single-note tone of the dead line numb her as tears fled down her muzzle. Before she lost control, she dialed her mother's mobile phone again and again and again, each time no answer. She tried her work phone, letting it ring until the voicemail sounded. In her desperation, she left a message.

"Mom, please, I r-really need you right now. I'm s-s-scared. Everyone is dying. And I'm afraid I'm next…" she cried into the phone.

Her shoulders shook as she let the phone fall. She crawled into her corner, covering her sobs with her knees as she wept. The phone swung on its cord, tapping her legs as her sobs filled the room. The small voice of the automated voicemail box came through between her whimpers until the phone cut off altogether.

When her shudders were too much for her aching muscles, she unfolded. Resting her head on the wall, her body went slack and she stared at the opposite wall like a lifeless doll. She blinked once and the room spun. Another blink and the counter shook. Her abdomen burned and she stumbled to her feet, running into the walls as she made her way to the bathroom, emptying what contents she had left in her stomach into the toilet.

"Mmm… mom… Cream… Sonic…" she whimpered, reaching for the counter to pull herself up.

She leaned over the sink out of habit, turning on the warm water to wash her hands, but her mind was beyond numb. Instead, she let the water run and her eyes went from watching the stream to focussing on the image in the mirror. A ragged pink face greeted her. Vicious streaks stretched across the muzzle of the creature in the mirror, pink quills tangled and limp. It took several breaths before Amy realized that was her in the mirror. When she did, her bottom lip quivered. Her helpless despair pooling in her stomach.

"Is that … me?" she asked, touching her face.

~Of course it is, my beautiful rosey girl.~

Tepid water hit her face and she sobered. She felt somewhat revived as she focussed on her shaking wet hands. She shook her head and slapped her cheeks with her palms, trying to get ahold of herself. She leaned against the sink counter for support once more and slowly lifted her head until she found her own eyes, the same jade as her father's. Thankfully, her father's reflection didn't show, but she worried the longer she lingered, the chances of his auburn quills haunting her increased.

"I can't go on like this."

She gave herself a moment to careful thought before she settled on a solid plan. Moving from the bathroom back to her bedroom as she did earlier, she shuffled around her closet until she came across an old backpack. The gray bag was worn and dusty, but supported several deep pockets. She pulled off the heart-shaped keychains and pins, lifting the bag to check for holes. Satisfied with her choice, she started to fill the bag with necessities, opting for a change of clothes, a sports bra and several pairs of panties. Upon digging deeper into her closet, she found a working flashlight along with an old map of the city. She slid them into a pocket of her bag before trading her sleepwear for loose light wash jeans, a tan long sleeve, and thick socks.

"Rouge is the closest to me. If I leave now, I should be able to make it to her apartment just after four," Amy said to herself.

Thoughts of running to Cream's rescue plagued her as she stepped out of her room shouldering her pack, but she quelled the urge with reason. Cream's house was too far and several of her friends waited between her apartment and Cream's house. Besides that, Cream and her mom likely weren't home anymore. It wouldn't do her any good to try and look for Cream and Vanilla, especially without her phone.

"If I find Rouge, we can work together to find everyone else… whoever is left."

In the kitchen, she shuffled through the cupboards, tossing whatever food was left into her pack. A few cans of chicken chunks, saltine crackers, two granola bars and an apple were all she could scavenge. With a knee on the counter, she managed to reach the small first aid kit her mother never used. She slid open the drawers where a can opener, a box of matches and several batteries caught her eye. She tossed all of them in their own pocket before finding a clear water jug in the back of the pantry, filling it with the contents of the small disposable bottles her mother kept. She found a clip and fastened it to the top of the half-gallon jug, affixing it to her pack. She placed it on her back, testing the weight and heading to the bathroom.

"I just have to make it to Rouge's house without getting attacked."

She immediately opened the mirror, thankful her father's voice did not appear in her head. She eyed one of her smaller brushes and grabbed it along with a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, a few hair ties and a clean rag. Before she closed the mirror, she did a double take at her mother's various pain killers. Thinking her mother may need them once she found her, she shoveled them into her pack, reaching into the tub for her soap and squeezing the last bits of it into a travel-travel sized container. One quick sweep of the bathroom later and she stopped to take a deep breath, taking meaningful steps to her mother's room.

"Okay… I can do this."

Stepping into the room, her body immediately began to seize. Though the bedroom smelled of her mother's signature peony scent, the closet held the faint essence of something familiar and paralyzing. She expected this, though, and brought her sleeve to her nose and took a deep breath. Grabbing the handle and quickly pulling it open after counting to three, Amy found the closet filled from ceiling to floor in her father's things. The boxes were falling apart in places and his loose belongings withered.

"I wish she had burned these things."

With a brave countenance, she made quick work of the wall, locating the familiar camo box that held his old hunting gear. She opened it expectantly, pulling out binoculars, a compass, and a knife. As the unsettling smells wafted around her, her anxiety started to reach an apex. She moved several loose items aside before unveiling the long box she sought. She hesitated to open it, closing her eyes in an attempt to avoid the memories. Instead, as she reached for the lid, her eyes still closed, her mind replayed the memory like a movie against her eyelids, Amy their captive audience.

"Hold it steady."

"I'm holding it, dad, but it's hard."

"Let me help you, then."

She felt the rough hands of her father move to her own hand, the one holding the bow steady. His other hand at her waist. Her face flushed uncomfortably, his thumb rubbing circles into her hip as she felt his breath on her ear. He inhaled and she froze.

"You smell nice, my little rosy girl. Better than your mother. Did you put that new scent on for me?"

"It was for Sonic. I was going to hangout with him today, but he wasn't home."

"Oh, you don't have to lie. I know you love getting all dressed up for me. Look at the lovely flush on your cheeks. You like my attention."

"I'm just frustrated."

"Oh? Well, then why don't we do something else? Your mother won't be home for another hour anyway."

She took two long strides backwards, slamming her back against her mother's wardrobe. She held her shuddering body and dropped to the floor, not even flinching as her mother's perfumes and jewelry fell at her sides. Her sides burned, the lines between her thighs aching as she tried to pull herself from the past, from the violation. She covered her mouth as the tears streamed down her closed eyes, but she wiped them away, taking a good whiff of her own sleeve, hoping the floral scent would keep her in the present. Three deep breaths and she could feel herself regain some semblance of control.

"I'm t-tired of crying," Amy hissed.

Back on her feet, she found it in her to approach the beaten box. With one steady hand, she stroked the hard edge of her father's old hunting bow, the very recurve he'd trained her on. She was no master, but she had successfully snagged several wild animals when she hunted with her father. Target practice alone proved that she was a natural, at least that's what her father always told her.

"I wish you never lost your job. Maybe then you wouldn't have used me to satisfy your boredom," Amy said.

She gripped the bow and lifted to her eye, inspecting it. She dug into the box for the extra tools and arrows, finding the quiver at the bottom of the box. Slipping off her pack, she affixed the quiver to her back after filling it with arrows. She stuffed the extra tools in her pack, throwing it over her quiver and shifting to make the hold arrangement comfortable for her. With another deep breath, she dug into the closet, fearing that the final item she needed was long gone. She pulled a box out then caused other boxes to fall, a gust of dust wafting around her.

She waved it away with a cough, her ears perking as she caught the brown of leather. Right beside her father's ragged boots were her own, the knee-high footwear laced to the top as if they had just come out of the box. She grabbed them and began the strenuous process of unlacing them, shoving her feet in and wiggling her toes to check for comfort.

"They still fit."

Ready for her journey, she headed for her mother's window. It took a couple of pushes to get the window open, but when she did, she wished she hadn't. The noise echoed through the alleyway and as she leaned out of it, a group of infected Mobians started inching her way. They couldn't get her from the eleventh floor, but now escaping by window was off the table.

"Dammit."

She didn't bother closing the window. Instead, she headed for the front door, pulling the table away as quietly as she could. She didn't see anyone when she checked the peephole, but she grabbed an arrow and knocked it, testing the string. She moved the bow about awkwardly as if trying to find a more comfortable position.

"I hope I still know how to do this. More than that, I hope this actually works against those creatures."

She looked back at her apartment longingly before cracking the door, eyeing the empty hall. The lights flickered, but there was enough daylight to illuminate the hall in a dreary light. She stepped out cautiously, looking down each end before proceeding. She could hear a TV here and there, and what she thought was the sound of a baby crying, but otherwise found herself alone. There weren't a lot of residents on her floor anyway, so the general silence was expected.

The elevator or the stairs?

As she prepared to round the corner, she slowed to take a breather, only realizing how lethargic and anxious she was. Her heart beat furiously, but she couldn't risk staying in one place for too long, not when she was out in the open. Once her heart slowed a bit, she went forward, eying the other doors with her bow low.

The elevator could have infected people in it. And the sound of the elevator hitting the first floor could alert whoever is on the first floor. But if I take the stairs, that's eleven flights of potential danger. And then I'd be stuck evacuating onto another floor if I get trapped. Who knows how many have been infected on the other floors.

Wet smacking made her slow, the door right at the corner creaking as it swung on its hinges. She kept close to the wall and slid to get a look into the door frame. Her eyes dilated as she found the shuddering form of her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Lyco, feasting on a resident. Amy managed to blink away the seared image of the victims loose organs for a moment, swallowing her urge to vomit again. She tried to slide by the door quietly, but her bow tapped the wall and Mrs. Lyco hissed.

Amy bolted for the elevator, looking back to find Mrs. Lyco stumbling after her, fresh intestines hanging from her mouth. She kept her scream in her throat, slamming the elevator button the moment she got there. She watched Mrs. Lyco fly down the hallway, passing by her, only to come back and grab onto the wall as she turned down the elevator hallway. Amy lifted her bow, aiming between her eyes, but movement in her peripheral caught her eye. Making a split decision, she threw herself into the elevator, waiting for the door to close. But Mrs. Lyco managed to throw her arm into the closing doors, clawing at the petrified girl.

"Screeee!"

"No!"

As the elevator doors opened, Amy brought up her bow to keep Mrs. Lyco back. She felt the snapping of her teeth near her face as she pushed her bow against the infected woman's chest, Mrs. Lyco's arms flailing, but never touching her. Their push and pull kept the door from closing, and Amy mustered what strength she could and shoved the woman off of her bow before kicking her back into the hallway. On her hands and knees now, Amy shook her head and reached for the buttons.

Mrs. Lyco hit the opposite wall and Amy slammed the button for the first floor. After they closed, she could hear Mrs. Lyco screeching for her, desperate for another feast. Amy heaved, but got to her feet as her screams faded. Pressing her back to the back of the elevator, she prepared another arrow, the hairs on her arms lifting as the elevator passed the third floor, then the second.

With the chime of her destination came the hiss of attention she hoped would never come. Still, she darted out, finding an infected person at the back of the lobby headed her way. She aimed at the bloodied man, but she didn't shoot. Instead, she squinted at the glass doors behind her, heart soaring.

I'm not staying here.

She backed toward the glass doors, eyes still on the infected resident. When she hit the door, she shoved it open, making sure to close it behind her, only wincing when the poor man threw his body against the door.

I guess they're too mindless to open doors on their own.

Twisting to the dim city, she took in a breath, listening as she observed her surroundings, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Though the street was the same, the alleyway from last night still before her, the city smelled sour. She looked to the sky and found a gray-green film obscuring the blue of the sky. It was obviously daytime, but the sun was nowhere to be found, likely hidden behind the murky barrier.

"A force field…"

Groans and footsteps caught her attention and Amy's nerves were on end once again. Though it felt great to be outside, her instincts told her that she was even more vulnerable where she was. She moved into the street, finding meandering people spotting the sidewalks in the distance on each side. In her haste, she opted to head for the alleyway, finding it relatively empty. When she reached it, she found her gym bag resting a few feet from her phone. Kneeling, she cradled the electronic in her hand, the screen shattered and black.

"Dammit."

She pocketed the item and kept moving, keeping to the alleyways as she walked the familiar route to Rouge's apartment. Each corner she turned, she was met with either a lingering infected or a group of them, and each time she stifled her scream and turned another corner, her detours endless. Thankfully, she was fast enough to avoid a physical confrontation, but she could feel her stamina waning and her stomach burning.

Finally, she reached a familiar checkpoint; a small park only a half-mile from Rouge's place grew on the horizon. It was a circular space with a few trees, a bench, and a modest playground surrounded at the center of a roundabout. Upon realizing how close she was, she smiled hopefully and started to jog across the street, only to be met with an infected that reached for her through a car window.

"Ahhh!"

She felt its grimy arms grip her arms roughly and she feared triggering another episode. She flailed and slammed her bow into its head, falling on her back in the street. She had the wind knocked out of her and when she started to get her bearings, she realized the Mobian-turned-monster was stuck in a half-closed car window. She blinked back tears and found more infected emerging from the alleyways around her, attracted to the noise.

She struggled to her feet and bolted for the park. The tree in front of her wobbled, becoming five trees for a moment before becoming one again. As she neared the tree, she almost keeled over, darkness starting at the edge of her vision. She was going to pass out. Still, she tossed her bow into the tree, watching it catch onto a branch before jumping to grab a one herself. As she pulled herself up, she felt a hand around her boot and slipped.

"Get off me!"

Looking down, she slammed her boot into the monster's face and it released her with a screech. She pulled herself into the tree with a cry of pain, her muscles burning as she gasped for breath. She scooted to press her back against the base of the tree, doing everything in her power to stay conscious. Several infected collected in the park now and the offender that grabbed her boot screeched up at her still. She swallowed and kept quiet, praying he'd leave.

Eventually, the offender quieted down, though the park was still filled with monsters. Amy's breathing slowed, but her despair deepened. Still struggling to keep her eyes open, she used what strength she had left to reach a pocket of her pack, pulling out a granola bar and shoving it down her throat. She closed her eyes, letting a tear fall.

~aAa~

She wished it were something else, anything else that spurred her forward. Maybe the touch of a hand from a friend, or the sound of a familiar voice. More than anything, she wished to see her mother's car screech to a halt in front of her perch. Maybe then she would feel safe.

Instead, she was startled by the siren of an ambulance, then the sickening crunch as it crashed into another vehicle. Though the initial impact brought her distress, the noise made all of the lingering threats on the ground draw their attention to the distant crash, clearing the area around her. She reached for her bow and looked down to gauge the distance to the ground. With a deep swallow, she scooted down the branch, getting a good grip on it before bringing herself to the ground. She felt a tinge of pain in her back and legs, but, the moment her boots touched the grass, she took off in a sprint down the nearest street. She watched for more infected, keeping close to the walls of the buildings.

Finally, she slid into the alley that led to Rouge's place. The pinkette already knew to use the dumpster to get to the fire escape ladder before finding the rest of her way up. What worried her was the noise her ascent would inevitably make, the sound of her boots against the metal already ringing in her ears. She found that the alley was relatively clear, save a few trash bags and the dumpster in question, but as she walked up to the metal box, a hiss made her back down. A small infected young boy moved away from the side of the dumpster she hadn't checked and meandered toward her. She muffled a yelp.

"C-chaos," she whispered to herself.

She reached for an arrow, patting her shoulder before she finally grabbed one. All the while, she backed up slowly, finally knocking an arrow and locking herself in place as she was taught.

Stand your ground, Amy. Take the shot. Your life is in danger.

Yet her aim wavered and the undead child staggered in her direction, a low squeal in its throat. Amy's eyes shook as she looked into the child's foggy eyes. He looked like he was in pain, begging for help, praying for mercy. He could have only been 8, she guessed. Too young and undeserving of this nightmare.

I can't do it.

She retracted her arrow, preparing to turn and bolt, when two muffled shots made her halt.

Plat! Plat!

When she opened her eyes, the child had two solid holes in his head. Eyes wide, she slowly shifted to face the shooter behind her as the young boy's body thudded against the wet asphalt. In the shadow of the building, all she could make out was the outstretched pistol and an indistinct figure. She brought her bow to her chest anxiously, but felt hope overtake her anxiety as a familiar hedgehog stepped into the filtered late afternoon light.

"Shadow," Amy whispered.

"You shouldn't be out here," Shadow said.

His voice was like a breath of fresh air, though the content of his message made her pause. She blinked away the tears that had started to swell, getting a hold of her shaking knees as he approached her. She watched him intently as he searched the area. She took note of his attire, realizing he was in his private school uniform, minus his blazer and tie. His shirt was smeared with what she assumed was blood, yet his sleeves were folded neatly against his forearms as if he'd just come from class. He sported a black backpack and what looked like another gun strapped to his back underneath it.

Shadow placed his gun on the holster strapped to his leg and crossed his arms, lifting a brow to the stunned girl. This made Amy start again in a rush.

"B-but…you see, I –" Amy began.

"Why didn't you stay inside and wait for the evacuation squad to clear your side of town?"

Amy pursed her lips hard, looking down as she squeezed her bow.

This isn't how this was supposed to go.

"I-I was alone. My mom… she didn't come home…" she started, trailing as she tried not to reflect on the previous day's events.

"So you decided the best course of action was to go galavanting through the city without a plan?"

"No. I have a plan," she asserted.

She brought her head up to his level to explain, but the ebony hedgehog was examining her intensely, tilting his head this way and that as he scrutinized her. She almost snapped at his odd behavior, but calmed when he sighed, his eyes visibly softening as he looked into hers.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"Any bites?"

"Bites?"

"That's how the infection is spreading. Have any of them bit you yet?"

Amy lifted her arms, checking herself. A few scratches on her wrists from climbing the tree and a splinter in her finger, but she was otherwise unscathed.

"No. There have been a few… close calls, but no bites. Just.. h-hands."

Shadow seemed to pause at that, his brow furrowing as he held her gaze.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Shh."

Amy froze as lazy footsteps and hissing echoed into the alley. Shadow nodded toward the dumpster and they both moved to it, their backs against it as a threat moved past the alleyway. Once it was clear, Shadow pointed above them.

"I'll give you a lift," he muttered.

But as he crouched and brought his hands together to give her, she moved past him, lifting herself onto the dumpster with ease. Without hesitation, she tossed her bow as high as she could, the wood clanging against the fire escape stairs. She prepared herself for a powerful leap and lunged, gripping the fire escape ladder and lifting herself onto the first level. She looked down at Shadow, finding him staring back at her, a bit stunned. She waved at him quickly.

"Are you coming?"

He nodded and followed suit, making a bit more noise as he mounted the dumpster and pulled himself up to her. She offered a hand when he got to her, but Shadow found his footing quickly and urged her forward.

"Let's go. I think we've made enough noise," he said, directing an eye to the small horde they'd drawn to the alleyway.

Amy swallowed as she eyed the ground, but it was too late to turn back. Shadow led the way to the seventh level. He leveled a glance at Rouge's bedroom window, finding it was already cracked open. He braced himself to pull it open, but the window caught halfway. He shoved it a little harder, but the window stuck, catching Shadow off guard as his hand slid against a sharp edge. All the while, Amy was drawn to the other window.

"Shit," he hissed.

"Are you okay?" Amy asked.

Shadow squeezed his hand as he clutched his wrist. He shooed her concern away with a shake of his head.

"Just a scratch."

She looked unconvinced, but faced the other window, placing a hand on it and squinting to see inside. Shadow leaned back over to try Rouge's window again, but stopped when he heard the click of a switchblade. Amy already had the screen off when he approached her, and when he tilted a head to observe her work, she'd already released the window lock with the tip of the blade. She pocketed the knife and moved to lift the window, but the window only parted an inch. She moved to try again, but Shadow moved his hands to replace hers.

"I've got it," he said.

With one strong lift, Shadow snapped the window open. Groans and hisses started to grow below them and Shadow slipped inside quickly. Amy attempted to get inside as smoothly as Shadow had, but had some trouble finding the ground with her first foot and nearly face planted. Shadow caught her and brought her upright.

"Thank you," she said.

He grunted and released her, looking around Rouge's kitchen. His ears twitched a few times, scanning for signs of life. His hand twitched to the gun at his thigh, but his mind stayed on Amy.

"So, what was this great plan of yours?" he asked.

She dusted herself off and crossed her arms, giving him her eyes though he was searching the area still.

"Well everything started to go downhill so fast and I was worried about everyone else. I couldn't stand to be in my apartment alone, doing nothing, so I decided that finding everyone else was the only thing I could do. Rouge was the closest, so I decided to start here. I figured we could come up with a plan to find everyone else together," she said.

Shadow faced her, looking down to her with several questions plaguing him.

"Your mother?" he asked softly.

Amy's heart squeezed painfully.

"She didn't come home last night."

Shadow gave her a small look of sympathy, but sighed, a hint of frustration evident.

"There were other, safer ways to contact everyone."

"I would have called or sent a text, but… I dropped my phone on the way home last night. It's not exactly functional right now," she explained, pulling out her useless flip phone for him to see.

Shadow brought a hand to his chin in thought.

"So that's why you didn't pick up," Shadow said under his breath.

Amy perked up.

"You called me?"

Shadow's brought a hand up, his head darting to a noise that Amy didn't seem to pick up. She tensed at his movement, finally taking a moment to scan the kitchen for herself. It was a mess. The dining room table was littered with newspaper clippings and cigarette butts, and the stove housed a pot that had boiled over food onto the counter, coating the other stove eye and dripping onto the floor. The lights were out, but Amy could still make out the miscellaneous items sprawled out over the counters. Shadow spoke without looking at her.

"Let's make ourselves known to Rouge's mother before she resorts to drastic measures."

"Right."

Shadow moved to the other end of the kitchen with his pistol held low, passing up the entrance to the living room to look through the other archway that led to the hall. His muzzle scrunched in disgust as rotting food wafted to his nose. Amy hesitated to move, but headed for the living room as the eerie silence made her weary. She turned to make her way around the couch only to stop dead in her tracks.

"No!"

Surrounded by a mess of glass, Knuckles lay in the center of the living room, his left hand wrapped in a bleeding cloth.

~aAa~

A/N: Honestly, I don't have much to say! I'm just happy to have gotten through the boring transitional part where Amy is alone. I was dreading editing it, because I knew there was a specific way that I wanted to convey her trauma and the way she loses it while trapped in her apartment alone and with no way to contact anyone. I didn't want to rush it, because the way she suffers is important to her character. And I knew I would spend toooo many days coming back to edit it until I thought it was perfect, only to not post because it wasn't good enough. So, I'm finally posting it after torturing myself. This has been done for three days already and I keep tweaking it and I just need to stop. But now that it's done, time to move onto the deeper plot, the dispositions of the other characters, and the Shadamy! :D

Next few chapters are going to feature more action and more drama(my favorite parts, honestly). Lots of talking to reveal a bit more of these character's history together and showcase their current relationships. These next, I'd say, seven chapters are already outlined, I just need the time between work to get it written. I also have some logistics to work out to make sure everything makes sense, such as realistic weapons, setting accuracy, and the like. So the next chapter may take some time, but I'm hoping for no longer than a week.

Let me know how Shadow and Amy's first interaction went for you! Sorry it was so short. They are together now, so expect a lot more from the two of them from here on out.

In private school

Our Cast

Amy 16 (Junior)

*Shadow 18 (Senior)

Sonic 18 (Senior)

Sonia 18 (Senior)

Manic 18 (Senior)

Sally 18 (Senior)

Rouge 18 (Senior)

Knuckles 19 (Senior/held back a year)

Cream 11 (Sixth grade)

Tails 13 (Freshman/skipped two grades)

Silver 17 (Junior)

*Blaze 17 (Junior)

*Mighty 18 (Senior)

*Espio 18 (Senior)

*Charmy 11 (Sixth grade)

Vector (Mighty, Espio, and Charmy's adoptive dad/more like a brother) 26

Vanilla (Cream's mother) 30

Aleena (Sonic, Sonia, and Manic's mother) 40

Iris (Shadow's aunt/OC) 40

Cecelia Rose (Amy's mother/OC) 35

Scarlet (Rouge's mother/OC) 35

Elias (Sally's brother) 23

Bunnie 20 (Graduated/Sally's close friend)

Mina 18 (Senior)

Julie-Su 17 (Junior)