Lost Cause

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Her hooves clack against the tile of an abandoned mall, and her claws drag against the marble walls. Martinez had long, brown hair twisted into a braid, and a mask that had a similar look to a devilish Monster. Her piercing green eyes were as distinguishable as ever, and that wasn't a good thing. Anyone could recognize those eyes, and they could hunt her down and attack her. But everyone has the same last name as her. Martinez was her last name, and will always be referred as such because of safety reasons. Every Human here is referred to as their last name, whether it be strange or hard to pronounce, or impossible to remember.

Martinez was a girl of twenty-two young years passing by her with such time. Her mask would tell an interesting tale of her upbringing: she was born without any parents, immediately brought to an abusive orphanage. About six years back, she escapes by killing every single masked Human at that orphanage. During her young days there, she'd be experimented on by others who weren't masked individuals, making it easy for her to recognize them and hunt them down one by one. She grew up with a violent temper, incredible strength, and a photographic memory.

As she explores this abandoned mall, she can feel her mask slowly getting loose. She stops in her tracks, tightening it a bit, then goes on. Looking to her left, something caught her eyes—it was a mask of the same features as hers, but much newer. Without hesitation, she takes it, but doesn't put it on. She stuffs it in her backpack. Then, a smell of food comes out from a nearby abandoned store. For some strange reason, all of its food was still edible. Martinez hadn't eaten in days, so this was a treat. She grabs a donut, unsure if the coast was clear for her to take off her mask. She looks around not once, not twice, but three times. She then takes off her mask briefly to stuff the glazed donut into her mouth, her back turned.

Her exploration was brief, but very peaceful and quiet.

The air was thick and humid, and the wind was that of a sandstorm. No regular Human could survive in this scorching weather, but these Humans could. There were no Animals living, so the only way to get around was fossil fuels. Martinez rode a stolen motorcycle, her mask acting as her helmet. She had taught herself how to ride. No one else seemed to own one as nice as hers.

Her home was a den in the middle of nowhere. Despite it being a home, it was no place for comfort. It had been raided by many other Humans searching for her. For what purpose? That remains a secret...

Martinez parks the motorcycle beside the den. The dust settles on her hooves once she stands still, looking around the area. It may have been quiet, but that didn't mean safety. Anyone could be anywhere. For once, the coast was clear. She surrenders her guard and saunters in her den, the dust leaving her hooves. She sits on a stool she had crafted herself in front of a broken mirror. She finally has the safety to take off her mask, revealing her face; there was a large scar dragging across from her face, she had green eyes and bushy eyebrows. Almost immediately, she puts her mask back on.

Albeit there was safety, that wasn't always guaranteed. Again, she was hungry. Martinez heads out again, lured by the smell of discarded Human meat. She stops in her tracks, takes another look around. No one, thankfully. The smell was getting stronger and more distinct, and there it rested upon her. She couldn't stay for long, though, so she picks up scraps of the meat and flees. With such haste, no one could track her down.

During the night was when safety was at its peak. All Humans were asleep and nowhere to be found, and the temperature had cooled down to a nice breeze. Despite this, Martinez was still on high alert. She remained in her den, staring at the navy blue sky through a gaping hole in the ceiling. She was on her back, munching on the meat with her mask off. Her face, a permanent state of anger, was relaxed for once. She sighs, thinking to herself, Perhaps the day wasn't as bad as I thought, but I can't be so sure of the next day. Will I wake up? Or will I die?

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