Crossing Over: From Horror to HighSeas

Chapter 1 "From Darkness to the Deep."

A SCP-001 survivor and One piece buggy the clown story.

⛔️ Triggers warning in this chapter include ⛔️

1. Panic and chaos engulfing the streets.
2. The infected chasing and attacking the protagonist.
3. Violence and physical injuries, including slashing wounds and deep gouges.
4. Themes of survival and loss.
5. The protagonist's struggle and suffering.
6. Descriptions of a post-apocalyptic world and its dangers.
7. The protagonist's desperate fight for survival.
8. Dark and eerie atmosphere.
9. Themes of isolation and loneliness.
10. The uncertainty and mystery surrounding the protagonist's
situation.
11. Out of character (probably)Buggy
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Clover remembered the sky darkening that fateful afternoon, so many years ago. Within hours, total panic and chaos engulfed the streets. He huddled with his parents, watching through slitted windows as bizarre figures stalked by.

When the screams started next door, he knew they had to flee. His father dressed them in every protective layer they had - leather coats, sweat-soaked canvas tarps, dark goggles salvaged from an auto shop. Even so, the oppressive light seeped through, sparking shooting pains behind Clover's eyes.

Frantically, they stumbled through the irradiated alleys, avoiding any beam of sunlight. But as the infected closed in, Clover's mother knew they wouldn't make it to the bunkers in time. With a sob, she shoved the goggles onto Clover and pushed him toward the storm drains. "Run, my love! Don't look back!"

Clover plunged into the tunnels alone. For days he huddled in the darkness, listening to the chaos above. Slowly, an eerie silence fell. Emerging at last, he found a world utterly transformed, and his family forever gone.
    In his years surviving alone since that fateful day, Clover had grown adept at avoiding the infected and scavenging for supplies after dark. However, as more time passed, the ranks of the infected only swelled while resources dwindled.

On this night, Clover had traced rumors of an untouched storehouse to an abandoned apartment building on the city outskirts. Prying open the rusted metal door, he entered cautiously with worn blade in hand. At first, all seemed clear amid the dusty shelves. But as he pushed further inside, a guttural groan sounded from the shadows.

Wheeling around, Clover came face to face with a hunched figure emerging from a collapsed hallway. Its posture was wrong, twisted at unnatural angles, but he knew instantly it had once been human. Now, its eyes blazed with an otherworldly light, fixated solely on the non-infected prey before it.

Clover swung his blade, but years of malnourishment had slowed his reflexes. The infected dodged with inhuman speed, grappling his arm in a crushing grip. He cried out, feeling the joint strain to its breaking point. In a panic, Clover kicked out with his free leg, connecting with its midsection. The force was enough to stagger it back briefly.

He didn't wait for it to recover, sprinting for the exit as fast as his exhausted body could carry him. When Clover burst into the abandoned alley, he glanced back to see not two but three infected in pursuit. Their shambling gaits were deceptively quick - in moments, skeletal hands grasped at his tattered cloak.

Clover spun and slashed with his blade, feeling it connect with flesh. But he was outnumbered, and his weapon was yanked from weakened fingers. Razor-sharp talons raked across his back, tearing through threadbare layers to leave deep gouges in both shoulder blades.

Blinding pain dropped Clover to his knees. Through a haze, he saw the infected circling for the kill. Summoning his last reserves, Clover scrambled on, leaving a slick trail of blood behind.

At the alley's end, his grasping hands found only cold brick. Trapped in a dead end with no escape, Clover's vision swam. He slid down the wall, collapsing amid piles of refuse as his life's essence drained away.

Through waves of agony and delirium, Clover heard scraping echoes approach. Claws clicked over cobblestone as infected closed in, dull eyes reflecting the faintest glint of dusk. This alley would be his grave, the end to a long fight for survival since that day the sun stopped rising. As shadows converged, Clover surrendered to the beckoning dark.
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As the darkness swallowed Clover whole within that alley, the last flickerings of pain and fear faded. An endless quiet descended, and he drifted weightlessly through the void.

Or so he thought, until a faint tug pulled at his dissolving consciousness. Sensations began to reemerge - a piercing, bone-deep ache and a viscous wetness filling his lungs, dragging him back from the edge. Raw instinct took over as Clover seized with choking, convulsing coughs that wracked his ruined body.

With immense effort, his heavy lids peeled open to a blurry scene undulating all around. Waves crested and broke, their ceaseless motion rocking Clover's numb limbs where he lay amid churning surf. Clouded confusion overwhelmed him - was this a delirious dream? Or had the tides somehow swept his torn corpse from that dead-end alley?

Before he could wonder more, darkness descended once more. Clover knew nothing more as unconsciousness swallowed him up again, too exhausted even to beg for respite or answers in those fleeting moments of awareness. He could only pray that if this vision proved untrue upon waking, merciful oblivion would claim him for good rather than force his return to the hell on Earth he had known for so long. His ravaged mind and spirit yearned for peace, wherever fate saw fit to deliver it.

Then silence overtook him fully, and awareness dissolved into the void once more. For how long Clover floated there, he could not say.
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As Buggy's rollicking crew recovered their spirits on shore after weathering the stormy seas, their captain stood vigil from the ship, lost in contemplation. The mysteries they encountered out on the vast ocean never ceased to pique Buggy's insatiable curiosity.

Just then, Cabaji's urgent call shook Buggy from his musings. Rushing to the starboard side, Buggy spied his first mate pointing desperately into the breaking surf. There, upon the dark waves, a ghastly figure floated motionless.

Working swiftly despite the rocking deck, Buggy and Cabaji hauled the sodden stranger aboard. As they rolled him over, Buggy gasped - two horrific slashes tore across each shoulder blade, the wounds ragged and angry. This poor soul had suffered greatly.

"He yet draws breath, but just barely," said Cabaji grimly. As the crew's most experienced surgeon, Buggy took command. "Bring linen, rum, needle and thread - we must close these gashes before the sea claims him fully."

For hours Buggy worked tirelessly by lantern light, coaxing the man back from the brink. Finally, the wounds were dressed and the fever began to break. But who was this mysterious castaway, and what unspeakable fate had delivered him into Buggy's care? Only time would tell, if the man found the strength to survive the night. For now, Buggy would ensure he wanted for nothing - the answers could come later. Always, adventure called just beyond the horizon.
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As his shipwright tended to the strange man's grievous wounds, Captain Buggy pulled Cabaji aside. "Tell me exactly what you saw when you spotted our guest," he said.

Cabaji nodded solemnly. "I was on watch when a bright flash lit up the clouds above. At first I thought it a trick of the light, but then a dark shape came tumbling down toward the waves. He seemed to fall from the very sky itself," Cabaji explained.

Buggy raised a brow, intrigued yet skeptical. Whoever this battered soul was, to plunge from such a height and survive his grievous injuries demanded explanation. "Keep a sharp eye out, Cabaji. Strange occurrences are afoot, and I'll get to the bottom of this mystery."

Turning to check on the unconscious man's condition, Buggy muttered, "You'd better pull through, lad. When you wake, you've got some serious explaining to do. Few could survive what appears to have befallen you. Consider that debt you'll be repaying in information." 

For now Buggy and his crew could only treat the man's wounds and wait to see if he'd survive the night. When he awoke, the true questions would begin. Had they pulled an angel from the heavens, or was there another more worldly explanation for this strange man and his curious fall from the sky? Only time would tell.

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