Re;infect

Day 478; 14:00 Hours

“Hello?”

I nudged the door; the rusted, barely-on-the-hinges-still door; open, carefully holding my scythe ready in case a re;infect came running at me. At least, re;infect was my name for them because all they tried to do was infect people like me.

    The same awful, warbled whimpering, the metallic clanging, and the re;infect growls pret-ty much told me all I need to know. I flung the door open fully, swinging my flashlight beam around the dimly sunlit room.

    There was a person sitting in the middle of the room, their head covered in a black cloth bag and their hands cuffed behind them. The warbling, liquid whimpers were from them. The clanging was from all around the room; not just their hands. The growls had fallen silent.

    They lifted their head quickly as I pulled off the hood, their eyes wide and their fear palpable. It was a boy, maybe a few years older than me, and the childish look in his eyes shocked me. I’m around sixteen by now, I’ve been keeping track of the number of Hours
in a tattered notebook I carry in my jacket’s inner pocket.

    My twin scythes are my only defense, I had to figure out how to sharpen them without nicking my fingers and they’re like a part of me now. It took a while to get used to the weight movement.

    He stares at me a long moment before his gaze switches behind me. His eyes go wide and he scrambles to try and pull me towards him. I stumble a step forward, whipping my scythe from its sheath and facing a pret-ty hungry re;infect. It seemed to only be able to walk so far, to a red ‘x’ painted on the floor. I noticed a circle of said ‘x’s,  and quickly figured it out.

    I knew even before they stumbled forwards hungrily, that I was facing a re;infect group-trap. I’d heard of ones like this before. The idiot goes in to save the bait and they both get eaten. It’s just an easy way for territorial jerks to get their land to themselves.

    I eked out a territory at the river, my base on the South Sandbar. The North Sandbar was too easy to attack, and too hard to fortify. Re;infects are unable to cross water, so as long as the river doesn’t dry up I should be good.

    There’s no water here. I mean, I could get a cup from the kitchen, but the two re;infects by the door would bite me before I could swing my scythe. I glare at the one in front of me, and it growls mockingly. I idly swing my scythe, and it goes down easy.

The others start up growling and clanging their chains. I walk around the circle, and take out the wretches one-by-one. There’s about three left when the chains suddenly go slack. Someone in the shadows laughs, up above me on the stairs I just came down.

I know I have to act fast or I risk losing the lives of not just the boy but both of us. I swing my scythe in a massive arc, midway releasing my other blade. The twin scythes whistle through the air, taking out two. One more loses its lower half, crawling towards the bait with its disgusting mouth snapping at the air with such fervor that it bites off its tongue.

The boy doesn’t scream, but his warbling whimpers get louder. I race forward, snapping my scythes forward and taking it out. I accidentally twitch my wrist which swings my right scythe upward.

A dull thump tells me the blade hit something I hadn’t even known was there. His mangled, almost gurgling whimpers and whines grow louder and higher pitched, I suppose the re;infect’s head landed near him.

I turn around, carefully wiping my blades clean and sharpening them, before sheathing them again. The boy is staring frightenedly at me, seeming to wonder just how I knew the other re;infect was there.

He tries to say thank you, but all that I hear is a warbling noise before he starts coughing and spits red onto the floor. I feel myself frown without meaning to, my confusion probably plain on my face. Is he infected after all?