Chapter One

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Ten Years After Outbreak...

Nate


After the Outbreak, life was never the same. All the government officials and corporate big shots left us, common people, to our demise. They all cuddled up in their big stuffy offices. Not one of them bothered to lift a finger to help us. The one thing that shocked everybody was the people that showed up after the initial Outbreak calmed down. For some calling them people was a little too...generous. Others. Beasts. Freaks. Them.

These, among others, were the titles of witches and other creatures that took control of the world. It turns out all the creatures that humans thought a myth wasn't as made up as they had hoped. Nightmare Terrors is what the neighbors called them, or Terrors or N.T. for short. Not that people actually addressed the creatures to their faces with such names.

Most places are still in complete ruin and will probably stay that way for decades to come. The areas that are up and running are in coexistence with the humans and the Terrors, at least for the most part. There is some tension on the humans part, but that's pretty expected. Most don't get over a mass decrease in population, discover beasts that shouldn't exist, and then smile and wave at everyone.

I think that would push anybody's limits. The only group that got fucked over worse then the humans were the witches. Out of nowhere, humans and Terrors started calling for their blood. Not much is said why this sudden rage for them came from, but most figured if the N.T. hated them, it must be a good reason.

For a while, the government ordered all the uninfected to stay inside to help starve out the Bobbies. Sadly, this tactic didn't work out, as some tried to hide loved ones who had become infected. Which is understandable, as no one wants to condemn their beloveds knowingly.

Some Bobbies could take it and found other sources for their hunger, while others gave in willingly or didn't have the self-control to keep their urges in check. It's like drugs. Some don't have issues, and others get hooked for life.

I didn't want to have to face that choice, so here I am, in the middle of fucking nowhere. It was once a small town south of Sacramento. Not many places had survived the initial Outbreak. The West had been hit especially hard, seeing that nobody thought it was real by the time it reached it. A hoax, they said. Right up until people started to devour each other.

It's not too bad; I'm squatting in what might've been a clothing department store. The shelves have been stripped and not a person to be seen. Not a single folk, besides the wayward wanderer, which is good for me. A guy's gotta eat, you know.

So here I am. My worn converse pounding into the ground as I chase my target around the worn and torn building. I push through the doors and pause as I look around. There's nothing out of place. The fine layer of dust coating the ground and cabinets barely looks disturbed besides my own trail of footprints. Fortunately-or unfortunately for him-I can see the imprint of a boot that leads up to the cabinets.

I creep towards the footprint and try to draw him out. "Oh, Henry!" I call out in a sing-song voice. I tilt my head slightly, and I can hear the thump-thump of his heart as it picks up speed. "Come out, Henry." Just as I thought about turning around-bam.

There's Henry. The front of his raggy clothes are soaked in blood, and there's a slight indentation where my teeth had sunk in earlier. In his grasp is a large butcher knife, though I cannot fathom what harm he thought to accomplish with that measly weapon. He rushes at me and strikes a slash at my chest. I leap back, and while he's off-balanced, I aim a background kick at the arm holding the knife.

The knife goes flying out of his hand and clatters a little ways behind me. Henry lunges at the floor for the knife, but I seize his shoulders and pull him up. Using his momentum, I sweep his legs from under him, and he lands on his back with the air knocked out of him.

He lays there dazed and hacking from the impact. Before he has the chance to recalibrate himself, I'm on him. Blood pools around my mouth as my fangs descend into his flesh. I pull my jaws back, and his skin and muscles easily tear off from his bones. His blood rushes out and seeps around us, but this was expected after I bit into his carotid artery.

I usually avoid such a thing, but Henry was fighting a lot, and after dealing with his friends earlier, I had lost my patience. It was a shame; after all, my meals never taste quite the same when there's no blood rushing through their veins. I can faintly hear Henry gasping for air and trying to scream, though he just keeps choking from all the blood in his throat.

By the time I finish with his jugular and move to the right deltoid, his heart has completely stopped. I take a couple more bites and then wipe my mouth off. I take the body and drag him further into the room. I come to a metal door and lift the lock and swing it open. Once upon a time ago, this was a freezer.

But with electricity being a thing of the past around these parts, it no longer functions. Now it's merely where I keep the scraps from my meals. I drag the body the rest of the way, and it joins what was once Henry's friends. One of them is nothing but bones, and I finished more than half of the other one.

Sadly, Henry had become suspicious of me, and I had to take a bite at him too. Luckily, this means I'll have food for a while. It won't taste great, but it'll keep me alive. Walking back out, I grab an old mop and clean the blood up before it stains. I walk towards my room. It was once a staff break room, which means I don't have to walk around in rags.

I take off my blood-stained clothes and start wiping down my face. I hear the door open. I stop and listen as I can hear someone else inside the shop. Thankfully, they're in the front and not in the back. Hopefully, I can just drive them off and call it a day.

I grab my scarf and wrap it around my neck. I say scarf, but it's more like a bunch of cloth I attempted to stitch together. Man, it's times like these that remind me that I really should have listened to my mother. I slowly open the door and see a figure standing there. They're holding what appears to be a gun.

Reaching back I grab the knife I plunged into the wall earlier, and stick it into the back of my jeans. I open the door, and they turn around. Without thinking, I run up and strike them in the sternum. They hit the ground and start coughing, having the wind knocked out of them. I squat on their chest, and before I have the chance to utter a word, I'm thrown across the room.

I watch them stagger off the ground and hold up their hands. Were this anyone else, I'd be hoping for peace, but I'm not dumb. Witch. What the hell is a witch doing way out here? The hood on their head falls, and I see long red locks. She looks at me, dirt lining every inch of her face.

"Who the hell are you?" I don't say anything, but I'm getting ready to pounce again. She must notice because, with a wave of her hand, a ring of fire surrounds me. I panic, even if I refuse to show it, keeping my body and face tense and still.

"Who are you?" Her green eyes stare directly into my own. I thought about remaining silent, but I really don't want to get burned to a crisp today.

"Nate."

"Just Nate?" I shrug. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. What the fuck are you doin' here?" The fire wavers as she lowers her hands. She looks down, then back at me.

"Sorry, I hadn't realized," I scoff, but she continues onwards, "but if you promise not to attack, I'll drop the fire." I stare at her and eventually nod. She drops her hands and takes a deep breath.

"Vanessa." I raise an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes, "My name. I'm sorry, no hard feelings?" She holds out her hand. Hesitantly I shake her hand. Of course, it's at that moment that shit hits the fan. There's a loud bang, and the front wall explodes, leaving the room covered in a thick layer of dust and smoke.

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