Roaches

Prologue

The wind whipped across the Wastes, the dead landscape that spanned across most of the continent ravaged by the wars of the past. The air hung polluted and tangible with radiation. Dust flew around and tore at any open skin that dared to expose itself. In the distance a forest of gnarled and twisted, dark trees grew like spikes into the sky. The outline of a town drew across the horizon, having a forever stare down with the wasteland that separated the town and the forest filled with monsters. The dead landscape was cut with the soft trickle of a river that, though it was colored strangely, meandered its way into the town, becoming the only lifeline of the town. A dark hooded figure weaved along the Wastes, following the river west as they walked with stumbling feet. "Come on, damn it. This river has to lead to some form of civilization..." they groaned as they walked. "I ran out of water two days ago and the sun will soon be over the horizon... God damn it, great job planning Sam." and they walked on continuing to follow the river.

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The town sat quiet in the morning, the sun barely poking its head over the curve of the earth. The wind rustled through the town weaving through the buildings. A bar door opened up and propped itself open against the wind. A tall man stood there, pale skin soaked in the few rays of light that reached him as he walked out onto the porch of the bar an unlit cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He sighed and walked to a small stool that rested on its side. He picked it up and brushed the little bit of dust off the seat before he sat himself upon it. He took a match out of his pocket and struck it against the sole of his boot and lit the cigarette. He took a drag and let it rest in his mouth for a moment before blowing it out. He smirked slightly as the town started to rise with the sun. "This day is gonna be interesting..." He said as he replaced the cig to his lips and took in another drag. His eyes looked at the parchment that was stapled onto the post outside the bar. The man set down the glass tumbler of alcohol that rested in his hand on a lonely stool on the porch of the building. In large bold letterings the dried paper warned bypassers. ROACHES: Ungodly monsters! Neither man nor beast, but something in between, mutated by the radiation of years past. ANY MUTATION IS A SIGN OF A ROACH! Remember, here in Tregaron all Roaches must have Permit Papers,  be with an owner, or on a leash. If you see any Roach without either report it immediately to the authorities. The paper then donned a sketchy image of a grotesque looking beast. The face of it shared characteristics of a human face and an animals, making it look something like a were-monster. The man shook his head and blew out a puff of smoke, then took a tiny sip of the booze. "Ungodly monsters?" he mumbled. "I've met Roaches nicer than some humans." he said as he sat down on the lone stool on the porch. He took a long drag and let his hair cover his face as he let the smoke revel in his mouth.

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In the darkness the sound of chains dragging on the cement floor echoed out of the barred cell. Silence held its breath for a moment as the echoing bounced around the corridor before succumbing to the dark. "You still here?" A rough voice called out, the sound hiding behind fabric.

The soft sound of silk on the cement shifted across the floor. "Yeah." A soft melodic voice whispered out tiredly, fingers tapping on the cement as they steadied the body as it rose from its position on the cold stone floor.

The chains echoed across the floor once again. "You should leave before it gets too late. You know he hates it when you stay down here," the rough voice replied with a clack of bone on bone. "I love you too much to let him hurt you for spending your night down here, and anyway it can't be good for you to sleep on the stone floor."

"I know, but screw him." it whispered back. "And it can't be good for you to sleep on the stone floor either." The form that rested against the stone wall for a silent moment, got up and moved over to the bars. A hand reached into the dark. It felt around until it reached the soft hair. It brushed through the hair a few times. "I love you."

A soft sigh responded and the head tipped to the hand as far as it could reach, stopped by the ping of the chain being stretched as far as it could go. With a deep inhale the rough voice replied. "I love you too, sis." The two sat in silence for a moment, letting only their heart beats make a sound. With a sigh, the voice spoke once more, a little more firmly, but still followed by a clacking of bones. "You need to go."

The hand brushed the hair one last time before it reluctantly retreated from the cell. It returned to its owner as they rose from where they crouched. "Be safe...Ian." the woman whispered as the sound of heels on the concrete echoed away from the cage.