Changed - Seeker

Chapter 1 : A remedy

Looking up, he noticed a balcony to the side of the building, high up. That was quite the leap, not the kind a regular human person can do. Unless they happen to be Terry Crews, but that's a whole other story... Taking off his backpack and reaching inside of it, Isaac pulled out a climbing pick, coupled with rope. Tying it around the tool, he turned the both of them into a makeshift grappling hook. Knots held no secret for him, nor did climbing, which used to be a hobby of his. Well, it still is really, although he doesn't practice it nearly as often as before...

Stepping back slightly, he threw the hook towards the balcony. Said tool hit the railing, emitting a loud clang, before falling down back to him. Seems he'd have to work on his aim a bit better... Then again, his target was relatively far, and it was pouring, so he doubted his own inability played too much of a part in that... Hopefully...

He tried again, and this time, met his mark. The tool latched itself between two of the railing's bars. Impressive... Not even he thought he could manage to make such a perfect throw. Did lady Luck take pity on him ? No, that's impossible, he knew oh too well how dearly she wanted him to suffer. Despite the rain, a sharp tug on the rope showed it had a stable grip. The only thing he had to do now was climb it, and pray the railing up there wouldn't break because of his weight. Or for the hook to fall, or for him to slip... There were so many things that could go wrong here, yet he didn't seem to pay them any mind. After all, he knew how little time he had left before the plague takes him, and had grown accustomed to that sword of Damocles hanging above his head. The writer duly noted how edgy that sentence sounded...

And so he pulled, hoisting himself up on the rope, wrapping it around his hands with every new grip in an attempt to gain as much stability as physically possible. It was... Sufficient, albeit most uncomfortable... By the time he finally got on top, his arms were numb, his hands cold... At least, now, he had shelter. The door next to him was wide open, and what he saw inside was... Puzzling, to say the least... The lights were on. Despite the sands of time, there was power here still. Possibly generators, and if so, he would most definitely need one for his own home. He was getting tired of having to repair the damn thing every five days...

Stepping inside, Isaac closed the door behind him. He was in some sort of grey corridor, partially tainted by white stains, with multiple doors to his left. It all looked so futuristic, he hadn't seen anything like it before... Another thing he noticed was the smell. A weird, synthetic scent filled the air, somewhat faint, yet very much present. It reminded him of industrial rubber... Not nearly the worst thing to ever meet his nostrils although, that would be the sewers. There was one last door at the end of the hallway, sporting a few bumps. What happened here ?

The man stepped towards the beaten gate. There was a button next to it, probably a way to open the door. Inching his hand towards it, Isaac was about to press the panel when he heard a banging sound, coming from behind him. Turning around in an instant, he instinctively reached for his revolver, and pulled it out of his holster. Well, he would have, if he didn't forget to put it back after he got out of the rain... Cursing under his breath for his own stupidity, his eyes scanned the room, looking for whatever had caused the noise. Did he imagine it ? He was hearing things, wasn't he...

"Is anyone there ?" He asked, cautiously. He wasn't insane, he thought, not yet at least... There must have been something, right ? And even if there wasn't, a healthy dose of caution never harmed anyone, did it ?

He was proven right when he heard the same sound again. This time, however, he was able to locate it. It came from behind one of the other doors, right next to where he came from. Someone was stuck here with him ? How ? The place was completely locked down. For somebody to still be there, alive... It was nothing short of a miracle. That hit was soon followed by another, and another... Whoever they were, they needed help.

"Hold on, I'm coming !" He yelled, rushing towards the door in question. There was another button on a panel next to it, cracked slightly, but seemingly still working.

Slamming his hand on it, he was rewarded with an opening. But there was nothing behind it... Nothing except for a strange pile of white fluid. Weren't there banging at this very spot, mere seconds ago ? What the... That's it. After all these years, he's finally lost it. It'd have taken a lot of social isolation, and a few near-death experiences, but he's definitely gone mad now. Heavens...

Suddenly, the goo started moving, to Isaac's greatest dismay. It was almost slithering, making it's way towards him, who stepped back in surprise. This... This was unreal... What even was it...? As the thing in front of him kept creeping closer, he backed away, fear slowly setting in. This couldn't be real, right ? Was he on drugs ? He never took any... Desperately trying to rationalize, the terrified man didn't even notice the pile had stopped moving.

Without warning, the blob propelled itself forward, colliding with the man's chest. As soon as it made contact, the liquid spread onto him, inordinate heat coming from it, being felt even through his attire. In utter panic, the man's hands shot towards it, trying to pry it off. Isaac was a screaming mess, that sense of rationality he had before now absent. But his efforts were for naught, as that damned goo now covered his hands fully.

He could feel it. Swirling, churning... As one would their own skin, now grotesquely deformed... His hands were morphing into something else, their outline adopting a more beastly shape, a paw. In an act of pure desperation, Isaac somehow managed to gather enough of himself together to reach inside his pocket and pull out a lighter. He smoked, something he thought would kill him sooner than save him, and yet... His covered hand, which he refused to call a paw, pressed down on the lighter's button. Not even a spark...

He tried again, and again... Little by little, the lighter's mechanism was drying from friction. All he needed was a single spark... The goo on his hand, strangely enough, did not yet spread to his lighter, almost as if it knew what was and wasn't a living being. As it kept spreading even further, reaching up past his wrist, and to his chin, Isaac had a realization, his earlier panic seemingly forgotten.

'So this is how I die, huh...?' He thought, almost bitterly. 'I survive bandits, hunger, the end of the fucking world, and this is the closure I get ? Bloody hell...' He gave the lighter one final press, despite knowing it would be futile. This was the end of him, he just knew...

Except life would beg to differ, for as if god himself had heard his silent prayers, the lighter somehow managed to produce a flame. Its effect was nigh instantaneous, the goo covering his hand apparently prone to spontaneously combust. He could feel the burn, bringing him back to his senses.

"GAH, FUCKING, FUCK !" He yelled out, in a magnificent display of eloquence and restrain. With a hiss, the liquid immediately got off his body, and away from him. With it, so did the pain... The white blob bolted for the nearest vent, sliding inside with a wet slick, leaving nothing but a charred trail behind it. Isaac pat his body all over, checking if everything was still alright. His clothes looked corroded, but otherwise, he was completely intact. He could barely recall the absurdity of what just happened in detail, still trying to cool down from the encounter. One question, however, rang true within his mind.

'What the hell was that ?!'