Mᴜᴛᴀɴᴛ Aᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ: Iᴛ Bᴇɢɪɴs [Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ]

01 || 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝐎𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

My whole frame is paralyzed with the cold surrounding me harshly. The only thing that was covering me up was a very thin bedsheet. I wore a jacket, some sweats, and rusted-colored hiking boots. It's not the best combo...

I curled into a ball in the corner of the room as the wind's haunting howls blew in my four-inch pointed ears. These puppies allow me to hear things some people can't.

I have an extra limb hiding in my pants trying to keep warm. And my eyes are two different colors. My right eye is a light blue with my other eye being the normal color of brown. The glasses I wore would fog up with every puff of air I spat out.

I'm supposed to be able to stand the intense cold. I must be so weak because I am shivering with chattering teeth. The cold nipped at my nose, my fingers, toes, anything it could reach.

Every once in a while, from where I was, I could hear the Dead walking around outside the windows, moaning and groaning. I'd peek out the window of the abandoned building and see a few of them just walking along. My main goal is to obviously stay away from them.

The Dead wasn't the only thing grabbing my attention, though. I could hear yells, things clattering below the ground. I've been hearing these noises for quite some time now.

All of the people here in Manhattan are gone, dead, over the hills, never coming back. It can't be real. I had to pinch myself on the back of the hand, blink a couple of times, but I am still here listening to the ones below. Who are they? What are they?

I slowly got up from the floor, feeling my legs shake from poor nutrition. Carefully, I stumble to the doorway and watch a cloud of breath blow out from my lips. I peek out of the open door, seeing nothing but pure emptiness.

I could feel the cold nipping me more now that I got up, so I wrapped the sheet tighter around me. One step at a time, I left the room and turned left to walk the hall. As I stroll, my nose caught the smell of mold covering the white walls.

Damn, it's cold... I kept walking until I found a staircase that led me to a glass door for my way out.

The only thing that stopped me from going out there was the infected people. I'm completely terrified of them. They're vile to look at.

Be strong, Osa. You got it. I reached for the door handle and let the wind brush my hair and cheeks. Both eyes watered, and I used the old bed sheet as a child to block out the wind.

When I reopened my eyes to see the streets of this side of New York, it was sad to see. Where the broken cars stood still, I could see the faint images of people walking around and laughing again.

Debris flew around the air, making this place even more haunting than it is now. Manhattan became this massive ghost town and I am living in it alone. Well, I think I'm alone.

My short hair fluttered in the wind as I proceed with my walk outside. Then, I hear those yells once again to motivate me to move faster. My boots drag across the ground as I turn to my right to find a different building.

My ears do what they can to help me navigate the ground since that's where the noises came from. It was a short hunting game for me.

Both ears led me to an alleyway where the wind is being blocked by massive buildings. Here, the voices got louder and deeper as I come close to a certain object on the ground. A perfect round, rusted manhole cover.

Before I make a move, I scan my surroundings to see if any infected are near me. It was all clear until a silhouette appears ahead of me in the thick fog ahead. I gasp softly, watching twitch and growl before it darted forward. In just a few seconds, it gained speed and grunted lowly.

I have the power to shift, but I don't want to use up my remaining energy. I backup before turning around fully and running out of sight. I whimpered while tripping on the sheet a few times, knowing the dead man is right behind me.

Oh, curse this fog! I can't see anything! The ground was full of garbage and all sorts of other things.

I tried to find shelter, but the next thing I know is that I felt wire coming around my neck. Who the hell put wire here?! It pierced into my soft skin under my chin, and my fingers worked hard to get myself out.

Nothing happened.

These are traps.

My right side hit the concrete as I was getting tangled up in this trap a bandit must have made. I struggle to take it off and repeat inside my head to not scream. If I did, I would be ringing the dinner bell for all the hungry corpses. The wire was tough and thin around my limbs-- it's like quicksand. The more I squirm and pull the wire, it coiled sharply.

I wanted my freedom again!

As I fought, the same figure came through the mist. I found a fence that blocked my way in a different alley, and I put my back up against it. The rattling of the fence made the dead man scream with excitement.

This was it, I'm dead.

I heard the growls become closer and thicker. I forced my eyes shut to brace myself for death. At this point, I'm expecting this thing to choke me with its dead, crusty fingers.

Just when I thought my time here on earth was done, a loud woosh made me prepare more for the bite. Afterward, I noticed that a splat was added to the mixing bowl.

As I listened, my body continues to squirm from the trap still gripping my neck. I'm low on energy, I have no body heat, I'm decorated in my own blood, and I'm beginning to see blurry figures. I hadn't noticed this wire was cutting off my airflow... My body fell so hard to the ground, my head was the first thing to feel agonizing pain.

Before I could find out who had rescued me, I let myself slowly relax into a deep sleep and smelled the stench of the sewers.