BLEED/HAVEN

[I] ISAIAH

The sun was setting, painting the familiar skies with an alluring array of oranges, yolk-like yellows, rich crimsons, violets, and pinks. The colors were soft, pressing against one another in the clouds to form new mixtures as well. They all slowly and peacefully were following one another into the sunset. That enormous ball of warmth was descending its ladder to give its broken sister space in the sky for the night. Cool winds danced through the city streets, free to enjoy the night and dance in an unseen felicity. The winds coiled around buildings, slid through windows, captured sweet scents of foods and plants then mixed them into a strangely intoxicating smell. That same breeze tickled the skin of a certain man and sent a shiver up his spine.

"Looks like it's getting cooler. Good, I really wasn't trying to do this in the heat."

The young man was sitting on the rusted metal railing of an old apartment roof, it was old school considering most buildings were a finished metal material that never rusted over. Things like brick and stone were no longer used for modern buildings either, making the one he stood on feel almost ancient. Yet there he sat, swinging his legs back and forth as he admired the view of his city. The sun was setting over the skyscrapers that broke through the storm clouds that were beginning to form in the distance. Although they were dark and grey, it still painted a striking picture for him. The sound of bustling streets, vehicles, and general city ambiance was all music to his ears. He was close to the central city, which was the hub of the apex of technology, living conditions, business, you name it.

The largest Megacity on Earth, Haven. He was on the outskirts of Mainside, on the Westside, where most of the broken down apartment complexes were. This part of the city was a ghost town ever since the Stigmata Rampage breakout in year 300. Almost everyone on this side of the city was wiped out. It was strange and struck even more fear in everyone's hearts. It was common knowledge that everyone born past 100 A.A had the Stigmata gene. However, a case of mass Rampancy was never thought of until they all started dropping like flies and rendering the area's population close to that of a ghost town. Not to say people did not live here, despite the year being 417 A.A, there was the occasional lively neighborhood, but most survivors did not want to be anywhere near this place. However, people had their reasons, from sentimental values to the simple financial stability they did or did not have.

"Hey, fearless leader. Ain't it about that time?"

The young man's face went slack as he turned to look at his partner with a mildly annoyed expression on his face,

"I told you to stop calling me that Otto."

The other man, Otto Church, rose his hands playfully, holding up two tall cans of juice. He was a tall, stocky man, wearing black jeans and a matching black windbreaker that donned the head of a wolf on the back that was only visible when light shined on it just right with a white tee. Around his waist was a slightly faded, black utility belt with a couple of extra pockets and a holster for a handgun which rested in said holster. He had on black, expensive-looking combat boots that were worn loosely laced and had blue bottoms. He had dreadlocks that reached his shoulders. On his face was a pair of rectangular glasses. He could pass for a father, or a basketball coach maybe. Who knew, he was one of those old, wise-looking young guys. He tossed Isaiah one of the red cans and started shaking his own. He popped it open with a satisfying spurt of minor carbonation. Then he spoke again before drinking,

"Yeah yeah, but just Isaiah is boring man, you should be grateful. If I were you, everyone would be calling me that. Like a comic book hero or something. Swoon."

Isaiah laughed a little bit as Otto approached the railing next to where he was sitting and leaned his arms against it, looking off into the distance and taking a sip from his can. His can read in large, bold red letters "CHERRY" Dyoss. The background of his beverage was white though. His own drink was the same flavor but the background was black. Isaiah sighed,