Hard Knock Life

Drobabes

Sweet'n'Sour
Joined
Mar 7, 2015
Posts
9,485
Hard Knock Life (closed thread)

Chapter One: Old Lessons and New Beginnings

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The bus was rolling through the streets of the abandoned city, it's bloody sunrise being able to be seen through the smoky haze lingering in the air. The driver-a young women looking as if she was freshly out of her teenage years, was sucking down her third cigarrette, having lit it up mere seconds after putting out her second. It was met with a lot of protest from the current riders, though all they received for their protesting and complaints was a harsh, 'shut the fuck up', and a cold glare through the driver's mirror.

The current riders of the bus had seemingly nothing in common with each other. Their ages ranged from just barely able to vote, to maybe they might make it in a bar without getting carded. Likewise, there was an equal mixture of genders amongst the group, with some being difficult to tell which way they leaned. Really, the only thing they had in common at all was the unmistakable haunted look in their eyes. A look that was only earned through years of seeing untold horror, of living in a harsh concrete jungle and surviving off of the scraps that were left behind by the privileged, or perhaps being cunning enough to run their own game. A look that said, while they may not have fought in the wars of men, they had certainly felt the pain of watching comrades die in their arms, or lost something so precious that a piece of their soul was ripped from their very being, never to be returned. It was a look of madness and sorrow; a look that could only be recognized amongst themselves, as the rest of the world slept peacefully under their covers, blissfully unaware as to the nightmares and horrors they had all seen. That they still saw.

And this was the reason that they had been gathered. The reason that they had been offered, and in some cases, almost forced, to come join an elite group of people whose goal was similar to other secret organizations-save humanity. Or at the very least, try to curb the amount of suffering that it was experiencing on a nightly basis.

Roth had chosen a seat in the bus that wasn't quite at the back, but was very close to it. With his back leaned against the cool metal of the rolling vehicle, and his long legs spread out over the seat, he occupied himself with a sketchpad in his lap. The drawing only slightly held his curiosity, as his ears were sharp, and his heather colored eyes, which sometimes appeared more floral in the light of day, would occasionally come up to glance at the other occupants; taking in as much detail about them as he could with those quick looks. He was quiet, only speaking when spoken to, and he tried to let the way his shoulders slumped back against the window give a facade of simply being too exhausted to interact with the group.

In the row opposite to him, just a seat up, two young men were slumped in their chairs as well. One of them was asleep, leaned slightly against the window, and the other seemed to just be staring ahead with a worn out look. Roth wasn't surprised by the look, as for most, if not all of them, this was their regular bedtime. The rising of the sun meant safety-the only time they could sleep without having to have someone watch their back, and he himself was pretty tired as well. What was keeping him up was the need to learn and the excitement of seeing an old friend.

A harsh bump in the road shook the bus so hard that the driver let's out a curse, and for just a second, he questioned if the bus was going to flip over. It corrected itself, but not before a lot of teeterous rocking, and after, many of the occupants were stirring from their sleep.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake."

Roth glanced up, his dark ringed eyes going to the young man opposite him. He was looking over at his companion, who seemed to have bumped his head pretty harshly against the metal, as he was now rubbing it with his left hand and scowling.

"I swear to god man," the newly awakened boy growled.

"If you make a fucking Skyrim jok-"

"You were trying to cross the border, right?"

Suddenly the young man was standing up, and his companion cringed as he tried to escape his rough hands. Escape he could not, however, and soon enough his shirt was pulled up over his head, and his arms were roughly stuffed inside of it, almost tearing the flimsy cotton in the process. From the front of the bus, a loud yell could be heard as the driver told him to sit his ass down unless he wanted to be the first one put on cleaning duty at the facility.

That sparked Roth's interest, as he hadn't been given a whole lot of details as to just where they were being taken, but the fact that a facility was involved meant that the place was likely bigger than he had first imagined. His eyes turn back to his sketchpad, his creamy pale hands quickly working to erase the last few lines he had drawn and then work back over them with the pencil, building a more accurate mental map. He briefly wondered how far off his picture would be, compared to the real deal. When he was done making his adjustments, he let himself relax and stare out through the haze, his sight being drawn to broken concrete rubble, and a few abandoned cars in a junkyard.
 
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The scuffle behind him failed to draw his scorn. It barely drew his attention. These people didn’t know any better. They’d always been on the bottom, so it was hard for them to imagine anything better. Not Daven. He’d seen the good life; lived it for seventeen years until that creature took his parents. A will that disappeared, lawyers who knew what they were doing, a financial plan that had been chosen by a father who believed himself invincible: all of it led to Daven Bruce spending the last few years out on the streets, no better than the short-sighted, emotionally stunted, hand-to-mouth bums sitting behind him on this bus. Well, except that he was better. He just had to prove it.

That’s why he said yes to this “invitation.” It was the first ladder he’d found since he’d been pushed out onto the streets, and he was going to climb it until he found a better one. Scrounging in the dirt like animals may have been all these other people knew, but he was from better stock than that. His time on the streets was over, and it couldn’t come soon enough. He still didn’t sleep well on the streets, after several years. Maybe it was the memory of the night his parents were killed.

He’d been looking out the window when he saw them walking up to the gate. The creature that jumped out was small. Half its body weight must have been in it’s foot-long, razor-sharp claws. Daven’s mother was cut down before she could even react. Daven’s father, to his credit, didn’t run. He bent down to help his wife and was killed with her in his arms. Daven froze. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could still see that creature ripping his parents to pieces.

Lightly tanned fingers ran through dirty blonde hair. Daven was tall; just about six feet on the dot. He was good-looking, too, and he knew it. He wasn’t, like, male model handsome, but he was attractive enough to get just about as much female attention as he wanted, as long as he wasn’t too picky. He was smart, but no genius, fit but not a world-class athlete, a jack of all trades if ever there was one. He hadn’t always had the self-awareness to know just where he stood, but his fall from wealth had made his few shortcomings abundantly clear. He couldn’t skate by anymore, and he didn’t intend to.

He glanced out the window at the buildings crumbled by the side of the road. It was a sad state that the world was in, and maybe could help do something about it once they got to this facility, whatever it was. You know, give back; do something for those less fortunate. Daven scoffed. That was the kind of thing his mom had always talked about. He didn’t disagree with her, but it was easy to say that from behind their iron gate, protected by his father’s security detail. Altruism was a luxury that Daven would have to get back just like everything else.

The noise he made had drawn the attention of his seatmate, a dark-haired girl sitting between him and the window. She gave him an appraising look and he flashed her a pearly white smile. No reason to alienate the others, especially before he could mentally separate the competition from the followers, from the rejects. The girl was pretty enough, if not quite as...statuesque...as was usually his type. She looked away, and Daven looked back toward the street in front of the bus.

The sun was getting brighter now, casting shadows off the broken concrete and steel. They were in the kind of area he and his family would have driven around while his parents lived, but avoiding these areas was getting harder and harder, even for people of means. As they drove on, he noticed the abandoned cars weren’t limited to the junkyard, and the bus had to swerve again to dodge some of the rubble. Daven couldn’t wait to leave the kind of life he’d led the last few years behind. Even just sleeping in a bed again, even the cheap beds that no doubt they would find at this facility, would be such a relief.

The rabble in the back of the bus seemed to have calmed down, no doubt cowed by the bus driver’s threat. Good for them. Daven knew that, despite the fact that this trip was only mostly voluntary, it was still an opportunity to escape the hell that existed out on the streets. It was a bootstrap to pull themselves up by, a lifeline to the drowning. As he looked around the bus, he could see a few people trying to rest or catch some sleep, but most of the people who were awake didn’t exactly look like they were paying attention. Daven wasn’t optimistic about their chances, despite not knowing anything about the actual job ahead. He’d have to watch the sleepers, though. Some of them might be good competition.
 
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Crystal sat at the very front of the bus, right behind the driver, though she sat sideways in her seat. No one wanted to be close to the driver's cigarette smoke, but she didn't mind. Not to say that she liked it by any means, but it was bearable if she got to sit by herself.

The woman and her brother had been living out and about since she was about seven. One night, she had been woken up by a rough jostle, her brother ordering her in a deathly serious voice that they needed to leave NOW. She got out of bed but hadn't even had the time to ask what was going on before he had grabbed her hand and yanked her to the door. She could still remember the way her heart was beating so quickly in fear as he looked back at her and simply said, "when I open the door, we run. Don't look back. Just run."

Crystal had desperately wanted to know what had happened. She had been aware of the monsters for a long time, but they had always made sure to lock all the doors and set the traps. When the door had opened, she had run with him, his hand still wrapped tightly around her wrist. However, she had made the foolish decision to look when she heard a muffled cry from the living room as they passed. It was their mom, or at least she assumed it was. It was hard to tell with her being completely wrapped up in that sticky web, an enormous spider drinking from her with its fangs imbedded in her body.

After that, she and her brother Daniel had been taking care of each other. It was only two years later that her brother had turned thirteen and lost the ability to see them. Needless to say, she lost him too. She was taken in by a gang of girls who were one of the somewhat prominent groups in the area. It was a hard life, but it was worth it to survive and it was better than having to fend for herself. That is, until they kicked her out right before her sixteenth birthday, saying that she would be a liability if she forgot and that it was only a matter of time. In truth, it turned out to be jealousy that fueled her discharge from the group. Since then, she had been doing whatever she could to survive.

When the invitation had come, she had accepted when she found out that they would be given food and shelter. Even if it was temporary, she knew it was vital to take advantage of any opportunity that presented itself. It was entirely possible that this was some kind of evil operation intent on taking them back to test on them, trying to see what made them different, but there is no risk without reward as they say.

She had been reading before the bump, her blue eyes looking about only briefly before going back to her book. Now that the sun was out, she didn't have to worry about being attacked, nor did she have to use her crank-flashlight. Reading a book was a treat when she could get her hands on one, the woman enjoying the brief escape from their harsh reality. It wasn't apparent why she hadn't forgotten at some point, that fact surprising her immensely. Sometimes she wondered if there would be a year in the future that would wipe away the horrors of the past, but it hadn't come yet. She was 18 now, and she would do anything to survive.
 
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The bus continued to roll along, soon reaching a stretch of old highway where there was very little in the way of buildings. Though the path curved and turned a few times, it was mostly a long and boring drive. The scenery on either side of the road was little to none. A few dead trees here or there, or if they were lucky, a totaled car. Even the dry, cracked earth, looked scorched and decayed-as if it too had chosen to simply lay down and die, perhaps wishing it could start over.

After another hour of driving, and when the sun was beginning to beat down atop the metal of their tin can death trap, threatening to roast them all alive inside like a knifed open can of beans in a sorry excuse for a campfire, they finally crawled to a stop and pulled up in front of four heavily armored and militarized looking vans. They were still in the middle of Butt Fuck Nowhere, but Roth was simply relieved for the opportunity to stretch his long legs, and possibly get in a little tinkle and shake if the driver was feeling so merciful.

Before anyone had a chance to really do much of anything, however, the doors to the bus opened and in stepped a young man. His tall and fit body was sporting a military garb, though it was like nothing that Roth had ever seen before.

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Instead of the usual olive green or khaki like most old world military wore, this young soldier was wearing a sleek, charcoal black material highlighted with patches of soot grey, and what he assumed to be, armor. It covered various parts of the uniform, but notably around the front of his shins, back of his calves and thighs, buttocks, stomach and torso, back, and upper arms. It's patterning was unique as well, and what looked to almost be small diamond shapes, barely as large as a dime. With sudden clarity, Roth understood the usefulness of the design. It was likely very hard to puncture or scratch, while also allowing the wearer to remain flexible. He wondered if it was also lightweight, knowing that tiring out too quickly in the middle of a battle could lead to deadly mistakes.

"Listen up everybody" the soldier spoke, his dark eyes meeting each of the new recruits.

"I know you all likely have a lot of questions and are tired, so we're going to get this process over as quickly and efficiently as we can so that you can get those questions answered and then lay you're pretty little heads down for a snooze in your new digs. I want you all to file out and line up against the side of the bus and we are going to do a little role-call. When you hear your name spoken, I want you to raise your hand a wait to be called forward. Once you have been called forward,"

He turned and pointed to another soldier standing outside, a clipboard in his hand and a ciggy hanging from his lips.

"By Noels over there, he'll ask you a series of simple questions and then direct you to the proper vehicle. From there, you will complete the last leg of your journey and begin your new life."

With his instructions having been carried out, the soldier exited the bus and went to stand by Noels, taking his own clipboard and getting ready to fill out whatever paperwork was on it. Together the two soldiers waited until everyone was off the bus and the driver had given the all clear that it was empty.

"Alright! Jason Cartright?"

A slender little boy with dirty brown hair down to his shoulders raised his hand.

"Step forward."

The boy did as he was told, listening to the soldiers questions and either nodding his head in affirmation, or shaking it no. And so, it continued, each of the young newcomers getting their turn under the watchful eyes of the two young men.

Roth had stood with his backpack slung on his shoulder, leaning against the hot metal of the bus and listening to the questions repeated to each young boy and girl. They were simple questions, really, likely asked to figure out where these new recruits would need to be housed to keep everyone sane and, for the most part, happy. It wasn't too far off from what he had done with his own flock, back home, whenever he had needed to expand his numbers temporarily to take down a large horde, or a particular dastardly monster. You couldn't keep a group of young, hotheaded and roughhousing children all under the same leaky roof if you couldn't at least arrange their sleeping spaces so they didn't want to slit their bunk mates throat.

"Roth Bluefield?"

He raised his hand, his lightly colored eyes squinting and struggling to meet the soldiers gaze under the intensity of the suns unforgiving rays.

"Step forward."

He did as he was told, his tall frame coming to stand before the young man as their eyes met on level ground. He was still trying to get used to that, as he had his his growth spurt a bit late in the game and had spent quite a good portion of his life being shorter than most. Not that it had stopped anyone from seeing him as the leader, but it was slightly satisfying nonetheless, to know that he wouldn't always have to be looking up.

"Do you have any obvious allergies to medicines or food?" Noels asked, glancing over his form. Roth caught the look as the soldier noticed it, noticed how tattered and ratty his clothes were, but for the most part, clean. He chose to ignore it though.

"Not that I know of" he said slowly, his somewhat deeper voice also being one of those things that he was still getting used to. Though it could be argued that he had always been the type to like to talk a bit more slowly, as he preferred to have a chance to think his words through before they left his mouth.

"Any injuries, or previous injuries, that would prevent you from attempting to push your body to physical limits beyond what it is used to?"

"No sir."

"Do you have any living siblings, parents, or family that will be expecting to hear from you again, either in the near or distant future?"

"No sir."

"Do you believe that you need any special sleeping accommodations, medications, therapy, or to see a doctor?"

"Yes sir."

"Explain."

Roth held his gaze for a long second, both to try and buy himself a bit of time to think and to try and gauge the reaction he was seeing from the group behind him, out of his peripheral vision. Some of these people he would likely be fighting with, and although he knew it was a bit of a risk to come off as entitled, he swallowed it down and chalked it up to the price he would have to pay to keep a bit of his privacy. Taking a small step forward, he leaned in and spoke in a quiet tone, ensuring that only himself, Noel, and the soldier beside him would be able to hear his answer. And once the soldier had been given an explanation, he gave a curt nod to his partner and said, "mark him down for a single room".

"Alright, go ahead and load up in vehicle three Bluefield."

Roth nodded, taking a paper form given to him, and then heading towards the van that he had been directed to.
 
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Daven smiled when he saw the young man’s black tactical clothing. It was new, high quality, and clean. To other young people on the bus, it might have been intimidating, impressing on them that they weren’t as free as they’d been on the streets, that there may be danger here from the institution itself, not just the monsters. But Daven, presumably like the rest of the smarter kids on this bus, knew that what they had been free to do on the streets was starve and die. He wanted more.

To Daven, the dark, futuristic material this young man wore told him that these people had resources. They were professional. And that screamed opportunity. The smile on the young mister Bruce’s face was a hungry, excited smile. Here was his ladder.

When the gangly kid named Roth asked for a single room, Daven scoffed loudly enough for most of the bus’s riders to hear him. Even the man interviewing Bluefield gave him a glare, but Daven couldn’t tell if Roth himself had heard.

After a few more were called up, he heard his own name and raised his hand.

“Step forward.”

Daven was asked the same questions all the other children had been asked, and he gave the same answer to each one.

“No, sir.”

But, despite the respectful “sir” at the end of each “no,” the way Daven said it made it seem like a challenge, or a dare. He was daring this man and this new world he’d stumbled into to find fault with him, to deny that he was the best. He knew walking into this new role with such a huge chip on his shoulder was a good way to catch flak, to find people in the organization or among his fellow recruits who wanted to take him down a peg. That’s what he was asking for. He wanted a trial by fire. He wanted the most they could throw at him, and he’d only come out stronger.

At least, that was how the interaction seemed in his head. The young man seemed oblivious to Daven’s prideful antagonism. Oh well, there would be more opportunities to get started on the right foot.

“Vehicle three, Bruce.”

He nodded and walked over to the van. He’d noticed that a lot of the older, tougher-looking kids had been sent to Van 3, so he took that as a good sign. He stepped in, narrowing his eyes at Bluefield as he found his seat. Now, there was just some more waiting until they reached their destination. Daven closed his pale eyes and leaned his head back against the seat.
 
Having pulled out a baseball cap from her pack to shield her eyes, Crystal quietly read her book as the role call and questions were done. She couldn't care less what answers the others gave, finding that it wouldn't impact her in the slightest. What did it matter if someone was allergic to shellfish or needed medication? As long as they didn't get in her way, she would be fine with just about anything. It wasn't that she didn't want them to be at their happiest, but it wasn't any of her business.

When one of the kids went up and said that they needed special accommodations, their own room even, she momentarily glanced up and studied the guy. He seemed to think that he required his very own room, despite the fact that he looked largely healthy and able given the circumstances. She doubted he was a screamer when sleeping- they didn't tend to last long. Though he didn't seem particularly egotistical, more quiet and reserved. So what was it? The fact that he was hiding his condition didn't bode well, and part of her hoped that she didn't end up in his group.

Her eyes then flicked to the other guy who seemed to be scoffing for the express purpose of letting everyone around him know what he thought about Roth. He acted like he had a silver spoon shoved up his ass and his looks seemed to mirror this, the way he carried himself screaming arrogance. He seemed like the type of guy who would be offended if someone else told him what to do.

She didn't have too long to reflect on either of them as soon her name was also called.

"Next. Crystal Stevens?"

"Here," she raised her hand before walking over the the soldier.

"Do you have any obvious allergies to medicines or food?" The man named Noels sighed and wiped the back of his sweaty neck, the heat having beat down on him throughout the role call.

"No."

"Any injuries, or previous injuries, that would prevent you from attempting to push your body to physical limits beyond what it is used to?"

"No."

"Do you have any living siblings, parents, or family that will be expecting to hear from you again, either in the near or distant future?"

"No."

"Do you believe that you need any special sleeping accommodations, medications, therapy, or to see a doctor?"

"No."

"Well that was quick, excellent. Load up to bus three, Stevens."

Her tone during the exchange hadn't been provocative. After all, she didn't want to start any fights with anyone, but she wasn't going to start calling anyone "sir" until she had a reason to do so. Just because they were older than herself didn't mean that they deserved more respect than she gave everyone else.

The young woman walked over to the bus and climbed up, keeping her cap on as she settled for the seat right behind the driver again. Her book was opened once more and she took to reading again.

One of the other passengers watched her come in, moving from their seat up to the seat across the way from her. It was a guy with mousy brown hair and freckles, taped-up glasses perched on his nose. His body leaned slightly toward her as he greeted her.

"Hey."

She nodded but didn't look up from her book, largely ignoring both the greeting and the expectant eyes that now looked at her.

"Watcha' reading? Is it a good book?" He leaned back as someone got onto the bus, his body returning to its former position afterward.

Her icy blue eyes finally flicked up and she tapped the cover of her book that was in plain sight before saying, "yes."

"Oh, haha. Yeah, I can see the title." It seemed as though the guy was a bit annoyed, his irritation starting to leak into his tone. He seemed to pause and collect himself once more before continuing, "Your hair is really pretty, but you look so glum. I bet your smile would knock my socks off."

It was at that point that she simply looked at him coldly for a moment. "I'll keep a straight face then. I'm sure no one here wants to smell your feet."

This prompted a somewhat shocked and then angry look from the guy across from her, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment before he scoffed and stood up, moving back a few seats and grumbling to himself about how stuck-up she was.
 
Crystal's conversation with the young man didn't go unnoticed, as almost the whole vehicle erupted into laughter at her sick burn. She even managed to get a little chuckle from Roth, the kid having gone back to stoically drawing in his sketchbook after Daven had given him a look that spoke volumes as to how their relationship was going to go. He wasn't looking forward to trying to avoid the other young man if he was eager to throw a couple rounds, but Roth was no coward, and he knew how to defend himself if he had to.

Soon enough the rest of the recruits were loaded up into the van, the vehicle reaching it's max capacity as everyone was settled in and seat belts were checked to make sure everyone was buckled in properly and accounted for. Once the soldier was satisfied, he gave a nod to the driver and off they went.

The next leg of their journey was a short one, the van only rolling down dusty streets for another half hour before the pavement ended and they found themselves at the outskirts of a tiny ghost town; it's buildings only being the bare bones of what was needed to keep a tiny community going.

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The fact that they even had old power lines up was a testament to how much hard work the old townsfolk must have put into their hope for carving out an existence in the hills, before ultimately being forced to give up and move along, likely from the harsh conditions of the area. Roth put his sketchpad down as they moved through the buildings, his light eyes watching as the van went past the first little shop, and exited out at the jailhouse in less than a minute. From there, they rolled over a dirt road for another two miles until they came up on what looked like an old service tunnel, or perhaps an abandoned mine? Whatever it was, it had long since lost it's purpose.

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The entrance was large enough to fit a couple trains, let alone a van, and yet the driver took more care on this new path, slowing down to almost a crawling pace for the next mile. Roth's curiosity was peaked again, and after straining against his seat belt a bit to get a better view of the path they were driving on, he confirmed to himself that it wasn't the road that was the problem. So then, what was? Eyes roaming the other passengers, noticing where some of their gazes were going, and then passing over the two soldier that had loaded up with them, he summarized that this particular path of the journey was not safe.

The driver was tense, the soldiers too alert. They were no longer slumped casually in their seats, but sitting straight backed and scoping the area outside the van with sharp eyes. On the lookout, but looking out for what, exactly? Enemies? No. More than likely, Monsters. This place they were heading to was deep beneath the earth, and likely the perfect breeding grounds for large nests if there was a plentiful food supply around. Or, perhaps there was a portal nearby, where fresh new blood entered mortal realm in search of tender meat.

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For a good fifteen minutes, the only light source of the underground structure was from the headlights of the van. When they saw another source of light, it was seemingly at a pit stop, the vehicle rolling to a stop at what looked like a broken down little bunker. The passengers were ordered to stay inside as one of the soldiers got out and jogged to the small building and up it's single flight of stairs, his form disappearing inside. When he came back out, he was carrying two large backpacks-one on each shoulder. The driver didn't wait for him to sit back down, the danger of the place making it unfit to linger.

Once the soldier was seated, he tossed one of the large packs over to his comrade in the seat across from him, and together they began to empty it's contents into their laps and pass the supplies down the two rows of seats behind them to the roughly fifteen new recruits.

"Each of these small packs contains a compass, swiss army knife, small flashlight, M.R.E, lighter, and bottle of water," the soldier said.

"If for whatever reason you become separated from the group," the other continued, making sure that each person got a small pack.

"During the trek on foot to your new home, we want you to use the compass to head south east. If you get lost, keep following south east. It will eventually lead you either to a dead end-where we will come to get you, or it will lead you to the surface. In either case, once you reach the end, or the surface, stay there. Do not, I repeat, do not, try to figure these tunnels on your own. As some of you may have guessed already, they are full of nests and if you try to fight on your own, we can't guarantee your survival."

Once all the packs were handed out, the other soldier turned around in his seat and took a slow look around.

"Any questions?"

From the front, directly behind him, and young girl with dirty blond hair spoke. Her voice was so quiet though, that the soldier had to repeat her words back to the rest of them.

"So Sky here just asked how much longer we have to go. You can all sit back an get in a little nap if you like, because it will be about another hour before we get out and start walking on foot."

Once everyone's questions were answered, the men turned back to face the front, their postures still somewhat stiff and ready as the van rolled on. Throughout the next portion of their journey, the headlights only revealed darkness and gray, cracked concrete, and Roth began to get an idea of why these particular soldiers outfits were gray and dark, rather than the traditional camo or shades of tan. When your home was a concrete jungle, then your clothing needed to match in order to blend in. Clever.

The next sign of active human activity, was a huge service tunnel that was well lit by by interspersed lighting, and peppered with both serviceable and seemingly abandoned equipment. What they used these tools for, Roth wasn't sure, but he could make some guesses about it once he wasn't so weary.

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Once the tires hit the smooth concrete, the van picked up speed, quickly driving them through and into a huge warehouse. They didn't get too much of a chance to really see the place, the journey through being quick, but with a bit of neck straining, a few lucky youngsters would be able to spot the storage containers on the upper levels.

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From there, it was another half hour before the road finally came to an end, and what they entered was a huge structure consisting mostly of concrete supports and railing. It looked to have been a train station, though it had long since been abandoned.

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The van could go no further, however, so once here, the driver stopped and put it in park. He didn't shut the engine off, however, and as the two soldiers stood up, Roth couldn't help but look at them with furrowed brows.

"Alright kiddos, grab your stuff and exit the vehicle. It's time to trek it."
 
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Daven took his pack and immediately opened it up. He took out his flashlight and pressed the button to turn it on. The bright, white light shined across the aisle to the small young man on the other seat. He squinted and flinched, and Daven turned off the beam. He caught a disapproving look from the girl next to him, and shrugged. He replaced the light in his pack and took out the multi-tool, opening it up and inspecting the components. There must be a reason that they’d given these specific items. Was there going to be a trial of sorts, on the way to this compound? If so, Daven vowed to himself to be ready.

He heard the man’s admonishment to not explore the tunnels on their own. Was that really what they wanted, or was that itself a test? They hadn’t survived out there on their own by just listening to someone else; they’d done it by taking initiative, and looking out for themselves. If something happened on the way to scatter them, Daven was expecting it to be a rigged ploy to test them, and he intended to capitalize on it. He couldn’t predict what that would look like, though, so he just had to keep on his toes.

So apparently they were still an hour out from getting off the bus. Daven had been thinking when the floor was first opened up to questions, so Sky had gotten hers out first, but Daven didn’t want to let this opportunity to get noticed slip by. He leaned back in his seat with a nonchalant look on his face, and shouted for everyone in the bus to hear.

“My only question is when do we get to kill some monsters, right people?!”

The response was much more tepid than he’d hoped. .Instead of rousing agreement, he’d heard a few stifled giggles and then crickets. Some of the others were looking at him like he was crazy, including the blonde runt across the aisle who he’d shone his flashlight on. Those were probably the weaklings.

“Ah, eager, are you?” The soldier laughed, and Daven couldn’t tell if it was an approving laugh or a mocking one. If it was mocking, Daven comforted himself knowing that that response would be temporary. “Once we arrive at the base, we’ll run y’all through some mild training sessions once you’re settled in. Then we’ll get you into a more regular schedule.”

If the people running this show weren’t on board with his coming rise, it was going to be tougher than he’d expected, but he’d be ready for it. In the meantime, he leaned back to sulk in his chair, his eyes closing to appear asleep, but he was still listening to the others’ questions. He just didn’t want to deal with any negative looks from the other young people. He sat like that for the rest of the drive, until the soldiers told them to get out and start walking.

They filed out of the bus in an orderly fashion, and Daven tried to look around to see who looked like they might be a valuable ally. He spotted a young woman with long red hair who had a hard look on her face, and decided to go talk to her. He swaggered up to her and gave her a smirk.

“Hey there,” he said with as much charm as he could manage. “You look like you know what you’re doing, but if you need any help out here you come to me, okay?”


Daven could tell by the look on her face that he had misjudged her. She may have been capable, but she was also super stuck-up. That kind of attitude wasn’t going to fly out here in the real world for long, but he didn’t feel like sharing that insight after her snub. She didn’t even answer him at all! Well, if she was going to be rude, than Daven would just find someone else to reach out to.

“Whatever, nevermind.” He rolled his eyes and walked away, surveying the other recruits. That Roth kid was clearly a weakling, as was the runt that had been sitting across the aisle from him. It was too early to tell who the real stars were going to be, so if Daven couldn’t find someone mentally strong, maybe he would need to settle for physically strong. He spotted a big guy talking to a sullen young woman, and walked over to them. Daven learned that the big guy was named Phil, and the woman was Maria. Phil warmed up to him quickly, and Daven could tell he hadn’t misread the man’s intelligence. Maria was cold at first, but it wasn’t long before she realized Daven was someone whose coattails she could ride, and she quickly warmed up. They walked together as the group set out through the tunnels.




**********




Luke kept his head down as he exited the bus, avoiding eye contact with the dickweed who had shone his flashlight in his eyes an hour ago. Yeah, the world was a dangerous place, but that didn’t mean he had to be such a douchenozzle. Although, actual douchenozzles probably get a lot more action than that Dickweed, he thought with a smile. He had trouble stifling that smile when he saw the dickweed in question get shut down by a pretty redhead that he hadn’t noticed before. Luke made eye contact with her and rolled his eyes about the guy, and then he kept walking, holding his pack tight against his side.

This was a harrowing experience for Luke, who had been on his own on the streets for quite some time. He wasn’t much of a fighter, and he had survived primarily by avoiding conflict, scavenging food and resources and hiding from both monsters and people, but he was lonely, and he wanted to try to do something else. It was hard, and they hadn’t even gotten started yet.

He stayed close to the group, but hung back near the rear. He didn’t want to be the first person attacked if something stumbled onto them, but he promised himself he wouldn’t run if it happened. He was deciding not to be alone any more, and that meant not just looking out for himself. Although he didn’t really want to risk his neck for people like dickweed and his new crew, a guy who looked like his brain was half bicep, and a woman who looked like she would sooner stab him in the gut than say hello. Hopefully they wouldn’t get stuck together for any of this mysterious training.

Most of the others looked nice enough, if just as downtrodden and cynical as he was. He could see himself getting along with them, though. He was tired of assuming everyone was going to attack him to steal his food or shelter. He wanted a community.

Those thoughts kept his feet moving as they turned corner after corner. Without his compass, he would already be hopelessly lost. Everywhere he looked was darkness after darkness, and the sounds that he was either hearing or imagining didn’t help. He would have seemed jumpy to the other kids, and Luke hoped again that not everyone would see him as a waste of space like Dickweed probably did. He knew he would have to prove himself, and he hoped he had that chance.
 
Having largely ignored any and all conversations on the bus (using her seat-mate as a barrier), Crystal had read until they reached the caves. When the darkness settled in, she finally closed her book and tucked it away, a bit of unease settling in. It wasn't that she didn't like being in a tunnel, more like she didn't like the fact that the dark made one vulnerable if they weren't careful. If for some reason the whole bus, everyone but her, was wiped out, she figured she could survive on her own for a while. That being said, the only thing that mattered would be surviving long enough to find the surface and not to fall even deeper, and that... that wasn't something she was sure about.

As such, she was a bit tense as she got off the bus, not really trusting their guides implicitly like some of the others. It wasn't that she doubted their integrity, but anyone could be snuffed out if they weren't paying close enough attention or were caught by surprise. Glancing around, she was about to check her own flashlight when one of the guys approached. She vaguely remembered him trying (and failing) to rally the other kids over "monster slaying" earlier, the lady having thought to herself that he seemed a bit carefree.

“Hey there... You look like you know what you’re doing, but if you need any help out here you come to me, okay?”

Before he had opened his mouth, her expression had been neutral, open to listening to see if he had anything of merit to say, perhaps even something light-hearted. Though, when those specific words left his mouth, she couldn't help but be slightly shocked at the gall of that man. Who was he to be speaking to her in such a patronizing manner? Though she recognized that he was technically offering to help her, he made it sound like she was going to be one of his lackies, or as though he had the inside scoop on how monster slaying worked. Was he making the assumption that she needed his help because she was a girl or because he was full of himself? She decided she didn't want to know.

All he was given was a withering, sour look, the redhead staring at him for a few moments before he got the message and moved on. If she was going to be asking for help, it wouldn't be from someone who thought their dick was made of gold.

When he finally left she felt a bit grouchy, reaching back and running her fingers through her hair with irritation. She noticed another guy looking in her direction though and they happened to lock eyes. He was one of the smaller guys who were more quiet and reserved; she hadn't really talked to him, but he seemed like a good enough guy on the surface. This was only further reinforced when she saw him glance at Davin and then back to her, rolling his eyes almost as if to say, "can you believe that guy?" At this, Crystal actually cracked a little smile for him.

It surprised her that afterwards the guy just got in with the group as though nothing had happened, not making an attempt to get close to her. That told her that perhaps he was a bit of a loner, comfortable with surviving by the blood and sweat of his own labor. It intrigued her, especially since his stature seemed to be a bit less intimidating than the average person. He either had a decent talent, or he was very good and minimizing his existence and escaping dangerous situations. Either way, it made her a bit curious about him. Curious enough even to consider having a conversation with him later at dinner. It had been a while since she had a friend and she was a bit rusty at the pleasantries, but maybe at the very least they could share a meal.

Crystal also found herself more near the back, though she let a few people be the buffer between her back and the blackness. This place seemed old and spooky, her senses on high alert as they travelled the cave. There were several hushed conversations going on, but one in particular caught her attention from behind.

"I-I can't."

"Betty. Come on, we'll be safe in a group." Another girl whispered, huddled near the other. It was a lie of course, but it was definitely a comforting one that most chose to believe, even the ones who said it in the first place. "Betty" didn't seem convinced, the woman looking both ways and then over her shoulder with a shiver, her body starting to tremble.

"How do you know that? We're already so deep. It's so heavy and dark and... The air is so thick like-l-like syrup." She was starting to get an almost unfocused look in her eye, though Crystal couldn't see it for fear of giving away the fact that she was eavesdropping.

Her friend Ruby was trying to sound soothing, but she herself was feeling a bit of the sympathetic panic radiating from Betty, her voice trembling ever so slightly as she replied, "just take deep breaths and keep moving. We've already come this far, we can do this! We can do anything, remember Queen Bee?"

The nickname fell on deaf ears, the last remnant of sanity slipping away from the blonde. "I can feel them watch us, I can feel them in the walls! They're just waiting to pick us off one by one from the back and there's no where to go. We're trapped! We have to get out! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OR WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" Her shrill screech pierced the hushed hum of the other conversations, the rest of the group looking back in alarm and confusion.

The panicked woman turned and bolted, running back the way they came without even taking out her flashlight, as though she thought if she just ran hard enough she would reach the exit, the darkness itself nipping at her heels.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME! I CAN'T DO THIS! I CAN'T-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It was obvious that she hadn't gotten far based on the thud of her footsteps, but one could assume she had fallen into a hole by the way that blood-curdling scream seemed to get softer the further down it sounded.

For a moment there was stunned silence. And then... there was a low growl accompanied by a pair of eyes. There were several holes in an off-shoot of their path, many pairs of eyes starting to become visible after a moment of scuffling. The first rat that came out was BIG and very disgusting. Its flesh was rotting with hairless patches and scabs, puss leaking from different orifices as though it were only natural. This wasn't like a normal rat though, no of course not. These rats had their heads upside-down, their necks clicking and twitching as though straining to get their heads back into place. It wasn't necessary though, as Crystal watched the big rat unhinge its jaw like a snake and fold its face in on itself. Another large Rat emerged from a hole on the other side of the group, a small group of "little" German-Shepard-sized rats wiggled out and forward, hissing and advancing on the middle of the group.

If there was one thing she wanted to do more than piss her pants, it was to not be eaten. Crystal immediately shoved her hand in her pocket and quickly felt around, having placed them there before getting off the bus just in case. Ah, there they were- her worn silver bands. Slipping one on each of her ring fingers, she made a stance like when Sailor Moon was materializing her gloves. However what proceeded wasn't the sound of a magical girl's love- it was the zipping and clunking sound of metal. "Goodnight-Knight Online!"

Honestly, it was a bit embarrassing to say it in front of other people, but they didn't activate unless she said the words and did the stance, as that was how she had always done it. It was a small price to pay for not being ripped to bloody shreds though, and she figured they were probably paying more attention to the possibility of their own demises to pay much attention to her.

Her rings glowed an almost ghostly turquoise color before sheets and blocks of ghostly metal quickly built upon themselves around her until she was safely tucked away inside, sitting in her command center. It looked like a robot that was about the size of a van if the van was sitting up on its backdoors. While she sat in a seat in the middle with two joysticks as controls. This particular one held a large metal shield and a long sword, though it hardly looked elegant. She was a tank- the type of fighter that could take damage without batting an eye, but while her hits were heavy, agile wasn't the name of the game for her.

Her Goodnight-Knight wasn't one of her favorites per se, but it was a classic that she could depend on in a pinch. It was one of the safest ones in a cave like this because it didn't have any explosives or rockets as its main form of attack. If she were to let out a barrage carelessly, she could see the whole place coming down on top of them, their lifeless bodies suspended in rock and dirt to be found by those whose hunger didn't let them rest.

The rat-monster rotated its head to the side slightly with a sickening crunching sound, its teeth gnashing together as its insane-looking eyes bugged out alarmingly from the sides of its face-fold. With a deep breath and quickly-beating heart, she launched herself forward, bashing the big rat on her side with the shield and knocking it back away from the group. It wasn't that she was protecting them, it was more that she needed room if she didn't want to worry about having to cover for anyone else.

It hissed and scrambled to its feet, scurrying over to her and lifting itself up on its hind-feet, trying to knock her shield out of her hand with its face while attempting to avoid her sword. With one swing, she managed to slice its thigh, maggots spilling out from the wound instead of blood, making Crystal gag for a moment.
 
(part 1/?)
While he had looked around as they exited the vehicles, his posture was that of someone who was simply too exhausted to do much of anything besides keep their feet moving. The politics of relationships, while important he knew, currently did not hold his interest. He made little effort to mingle, largely ignoring Daven and instead turning his eyes to those who seemed weak and scared-but not for the same reasons as the go-getter. His eyes held no contempt for them, but rather a weary sadness and recognition. The purple above his pale cheeks scanned each individual briefly, taking stock of certain details about them before they headed out on their trek.

Roth was sticking near the back as they moved, to the left of the group and towards the edge closest to the wall. He liked the position because he had learned over time that being near a wall, so long as it wasn't trapping him in, was one of the safer places to be. It would be difficult for any monsters to sneak up on him without the noise first alerting him, though he always had his eyes peeled as well. Sometimes the beasts were as a silent as a whisper, riding on the dark shadows themselves as their long claws reached out to tear and grab unsuspecting flesh.

There was another advantage that he liked about being near the back, though, and that was that he could keep an eye on the group.

During his time on the streets he had to lead many a party of rowdy children and preteens; to organize and mold them into a cooperative group that would be willing to focus on the bigger prize. Those that didn't yet know him often took offense to his seeming cowardice and letting the vulnerable 'take the blows' as it were, but over time he earned, not commanded, their respect. They came to understand that his role was not that of a bull-running in head first and plowing down everything in his way, but rather a shepherd protecting his flock. He rarely lost sight of his sheep, and he always had a strong arm up near the front who could give him time to react to an ever changing environment.

Because the two soldiers who had brought them here were leading their current group, Roth felt it best that he take on this, his usual, role. The strong arms were those soldiers that now led them to their destination, and until further notice, Roth was putting faith in them that they could do their job and do it well. So as they walked, the young man spent his time people watching and sticking near those whom he thought may need a hand if or when the time came.

Luke, in particular, caught his gaze more than once. The young man, while pretty well muscled, seemed fearful and quick to panic. It was a sign that Roth had learned to search for and to get the resources and help to first. A rope was only as strong as it's threads, after all, and if someone lost their ability to stay calm it could get them killed. This would unfortunately be demonstrated once more, as a screech from right and behind had his stomach flipping.
 
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(part 2/2)
"WE HAVE TO GET OUT OR WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

His attention had been so focused on Luke and another boy slightly in front of him, that Roth had lost track of a sheep. A mistake, again, but now there was no time to linger on it as he was pushing his way past the crowd, trying to get to her before it was too late.

"Wait! You have to stop, it's too dangerous!!"

"STAY AWAY FROM ME! I CAN'T DO THIS!"

He had broken through and hit the cracked pavement running, but he was too far behind and he knew it. Still, he was going to try, his feet pounding hard on the ground until they suddenly came to a scrabbling halt and he almost tripped back onto his ass, his arms swinging wildly to keep him standing. Something had tickled the hairs on the back of his neck, tugged on his psyche like a whisper in a cold winter wind, and he knew better to ignore it. Never ignore it.

The scream hit him so loud and so hard that he almost sobbed. A gut reaction that tore through his heart, and the pain he suppressed. Turning and running back, knowing it was too late for her now, he dodged and sometimes had to kick, the furry plagued and disease ridden rodents that wished to chew and slurp up his entrails.

His boots brought him back in record time, those new long legs of his making quick work of the distance he needed to travel before he was back to his herd and his mind was readying for the fight. The young men who had brought them here had a plan, Roth could see it immediately from the way they shared a look before one of them quickly stripped his gear off of his back and started to dig something out of his supplies. The second he pulled it out, the tactical part of Roth's brain thought, bomb, though if that was actually what it was, he wasn't sure. The way that they both bent over the device, though, told him that they needed a bit of time to prep it. Likely not much, just a few seconds, maybe, but seconds were precious with every tick of the chaotic clock.

Backing up quickly to the crowd in which he had been trailing, and that most of which were now huddled together in fear and panic, he tore off his backpack. Not the one he had been given on the bus, which he had been carrying in his hand, but his own personal supply stash. From it, he quickly pulled out a sketchpad and a loose, smooth, stick. Opening it to the exact right page and catching the charcoal pencil and pen compass that fell from it's pages, he bent down and laid the pad on the ground, using the two tools in combination to quickly draw a perfect circle on a blank page. Once the circle was complete, Roth tore the sketch from his pad and dropped the pen compass between the pages, folding the tools up in his sketchpad before tossing it back into his pack. His head shot up, jerking first left, then right, taking in the details as quickly as his eyes would allow while he rolled the paper up around stick, the thin remnants of what was once a plant now starting a new life as a protective weapon, similar to a scroll. Once it was rolled tightly enough, he turned it vertically and held it, his fingers and thumb wrapped so tightly that his knuckles almost matched the white and the veins in his wrist visibly throbbed. He concentrated hard on his makeshift weapon, his gaze boring into it with determination as sweat broke out beneath his messy bangs. It took a lot, his lips parting to pant and his legs trembling before he felt it rising up from his belly and shooting out from his chest.

It was just a little thing, the tiniest and bluest of sparks, but it lit the paper and set it ablaze in ghostly hues of blue.

With knees weakening, he fell to the ground and slammed the burning page down onto the concrete. Like a chemical reaction, smoke and sizzling noises erupted from the old rubble concrete and dirt, the paper and rod that held it now being replaced with a dirty plume of smoke that Roth quickly batted away with his hand. What was left was a scorched circle in the pavement, of a similar size to the one that Roth had drawn on his page.

His moody eyes took another defensive look around as he reached down and dug his nail into the dirt, his finger hooking under the circle that was now morphing into a solid blue ring. With one tug, it pulled up slightly from the ground near his body, staying connected to the earth on the other end but beginning to rapidly expand into a larger radius as the young man pulled back and began to shuffle his feet through the crowd.

"Move move! Jump over it and stay inside it!" he spoke, not harshly but quickly, encouraging the need for speed and for the importance of the matter at hand. He didn't dare stop until the ring, which was now glowing a ghostly neon, throbbing with an energy that seemed to be being pulled from the crowd itself, was completely encircling the group of young people. Only then did Roth let the ring drop to the ground, the following thud and shake of the earth sounding heavy, as if he had just dropped a large piece of metal.

Panting hard, he stood up and looked to his left, quickly eyeing two girls with their arms wrapped around each other in fear. With a hand that should have been shaking, but was instead as solid as the ground they stood upon, he pointed it at them and spoke.

"Hey, you two! Come put your hands on this and wait for my signal."

Again, his voice was not harsh, but it was commanding and held a certain air of a wisdom built from someone who not only thought they knew what they were doing, but could back it up if asked to prove it.

The girls did as they were told, quickly coming over and bending down to the ground, each of them putting their palms upon the now warm circle on the ground. From there, Roth wasted no time in pointing out and ordering four more people, all on opposite sides of the sphere, to do the same as he ran back to the front. Once there, he looked over and spotted Luke. The intensity in his purple eyes was heavy as he all but begged the young man to join him in his task.

"Help me lift this, will you?"

He didn't wait for an answer as he bent his knees and got down on the ground, his hands flattening over the edge of the front of the ring he has made. His chest begin to heave before his muscles started to work, and with a quick glance over at Luke to see if he would join, Roth began to focus and pour all of his mental energy out through his arms and into his hands.

Little sparks of blue and white lightning began to crackle and pop from his fingertips, each one immediately hopping and jumping down into the glowing sphere, seemingly trying to feed something and create a reaction.

"Ready?!" Roth suddenly shouted to the crowd behind him, his voice almost grunting with the effort.

"Everyone lift!"

With combined grunts, growls, and desperate shouts, the dirt beneath their feet shook and rumbled as a barrier began be pulled up from the earth. A wall of translucent and warm blue light, tugging up and into the air through their combined efforts as it began to raise high above their heads, and well below their feet.

Roth himself was sweating and grunting, his body lifting and turning with the wall, pivoting until it was facing the inner circle. His hands, arms, and eyes were raised to the sky in a bit of a praying stance as he focused on completing the seal at the top with the others that were helping him to lift it, not wanting even one millimeter of exposure to the world outside this barrier.

"Rrraa!"

With one final, heavy, grunt, it was done. Roth let his hands fall to his knees, panting hard, but it was a temporary reprieve as just as quickly he was standing and looking at the crowd, their faces painted blue under the warm and protective light.

"If you can't fight, stay here. Feed your energy to it and it will keep you safe."

As soon as his instructions were clear, he turned from them and reached into his pack, fishing a small leather bag out that bulged lumpy with it's contents. From it he pulled out two smooth stones and a Shepherd Sling, readying his weapon and straightening his back as he left the protection of the warm light and joined the cold world of nightmares once more.

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Luke’s head jerked toward the guy, Roth he thought his name was. Was he seriously asking him for help?

Okay. Yes. I can do this.

Luke jogged over and stared at the circle made of light before he reached down to it, trying to figure out what was happening. It didn’t matter. Luke was a good judge of people, and he trusted Roth in that moment. Lift it, he’d said.

Luke reached down and tried to touch the light, only a bit surprised when his hand didn’t phase right through it. He could even feel some weight to it, somehow. He was curious about the man’s talent, but he knew now wasn’t the time. Joining Roth, he lifted, straining against gravity.

Once it was up, Luke felt a rush, both of understanding and of pride. So it was a barrier, a shield of sorts! Good. They all had some talent, or they wouldn’t be here, but some people clearly weren’t ready to put themselves on the line.

Put myself on the line, huh? Yeah. “If you can’t fight, stay here,” Roth said. I should fight. I need to fight.

He’d done it occasionally, but not for years. Still, he kept his talent in working order. There was no such thing as safety, after all. Reaching back into his pack, Luke pulled out a pair of fake cat ears attached to a headband and slipped them onto his head. They were old, from one of his sister’s old Halloween costumes. So was the tail. He pulled the tail out next, an orange, ratty thing with a safety pin on one end. As embarrassing as all this was, the next part was, by far, the most embarrassing.

“Hey, uh, Roth, was it?”

Luke’s voice was tentative and quiet. He wasn’t used to asking for things from people, but this particular costume he couldn’t quite reach to put on the right way. He was short, and stocky, and his arms just didn’t bend enough to do it.

“I know this is weird, but can you pin this to the top of my pants?” He saw confusion on Roth’s face, and he was sure it was both from how weird a thing this was to ask, as well as a lack of confidence in the shorter man’s abilities. Well, Luke wanted to contribute, needed to contribute, so if he didn’t have the confidence to show it, he’d have to fake it. Maybe if he’d acted like more of a badass years ago, his sister would still be around to give him a hard time about wearing her old Halloween costume.

“I can fight,” he said with the fakest determined look Roth had probably ever seen.

Luckily, it worked. Once the fake cat tail was on, Luke charged off toward the nearest rat.

Woah, I forgot what a rush this is! He hadn’t used his talent in years, despite keeping the equipment for it in as good a shape as he could manage. The change in his speed was a real thrill. He felt lighter, more limber, more coordinated, and he was quite literally much faster and stronger. His mind was faster, too: the mind of a predator.

He scanned the battlefield as he ran. Most of the other folks who could fight were pushing forward like he was, but still trying to keep some sort of circle around Roth’s shield. Luke didn’t know if it was necessary, but it was clear from their positioning that they were mostly trying to protect the group. Or, if they weren’t, they were at least more interested in survival than in racking up a kill count. Most of them.

Luke saw the redhead from earlier in a freaking badass mech-warrior…thing! It was clobbering a rat with its shield, pieces of the disgusting monster flying off with the impact. He saw Roth, readying his sling. He saw that big guy that douchenozzle had been talking to earlier. He was standing with his back to Roth’s shield, pointing an old flashlight at a rat. He said something, under his breath, and a laser shot out of the end of the flashlight, torching one of the rats.

It was brighter now, the dull glow from Roth’s shield and the occasional flash from the big guy’s flashlight contributing. Most of the light came from that girl that had been with the big guy, though. Her fists and feet looked like they were literally on fire, her kicks and punches exploding on impact with the furry, rotting hide of the rats. She was fighting her way into the mass of monsters, pushing past the group.

Luke looked and finally saw what she was moving towards. Douchenozzle was the exception to the rule about maintaining a perimeter. He was deep in the shit, surrounded by monstrous rats. Luke couldn’t see how exactly he was still alive, but every once in a while he could see the rats close to him stop fighting for an instant, freezing in place in a circle around Douchenozzle while he swung something at them.

Luke was getting close to the rats now, though, so he turned his head to look at the closest one. It was hideous, half its jaw rotted off. It made a gurgling squeak and lunged for him, and Luke opened his right hand in a claw shape, swiping at the air in front of him. In that instant, something magical happened. Luke didn’t know what it really was or how it worked, but some kind of invisible force sliced into the rat in the shape of giant claw marks. Four huge, deep gashes cut nearly halfway into the meat of the rat, and a follow-up swipe from Luke’s left hand cut off enough of the thing that it stopped, collapsing to the ground in front of him.

Luke took a deep breath before he started looking for the next nearest rat. This weird agency-whatever-thing was his chance at a real community, so he was going to do his part to protect it.
 
Some light was caught out of the corner of Crystal's eye, and she glanced over to see a forcefield being erected around the group of people who weren't prepared or willing to fight. It was difficult to determine who was creating the barrier since there were several people lifting it, but she commended whoever it was. While it wasn't really a skill she could see being too useful for fighting monsters, it was an excellent last-resort measure if one got cornered.

There were several kids within the barrier who were cowering around the middle, looking around with wild-eyes or huddling down with their hands over their heads or eyes. No doubt the long years of fighting for their lives had taken a toll on their mental health, and she assumed that it was more overwhelming than normal since they were in a dark cavern, essentially in the lair of the beasts. She took note of those ones to the best of her ability, trying to remember in case she got paired up with one of them. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was having someone at her back who couldn't be relied on. It didn't matter that they were young, or that they had been through very traumatic events; the fact of the matter was that hesitation and weakness got one killed.

Her attention soon returned to the huge rat in front of her, the thing squealing as it lunged at her once more. She had dealt some damage to it, but it was time to try to deal the final blow. Blocking it with her shield, she let it scrabble against it for a moment before rotating the mecha so she could bring her blade down at a diagonal. it sliced its head clean off, the rotted, spoiled thing flopping to the ground. With the big rat down, she could turn her blade to the smaller ones, or at least try to. It was difficult to actively pursue the rats as the smaller ones scurried with a quickness that she couldn't match in her armor. Fortunately, they seemed intent on coming close enough to kill her, which at least gave her the opportunity to swing her sword at them and slice through the unlucky rats that weren't wary enough to avoid her blade.

One of the guys in the forcefield dug in his backpack and brought out an old, worn plastic dinosaur. It was a velociraptor, the toy held aloft as he muttered something to himself. Outside of the soft glow of light from the barrier, an apparition appeared in the shape of the dinosaur, though this one looked much more realistic. His tongue stuck slightly out of his mouth in concentration as he "played" with the toy, moving it around in front of himself and making it act as though it was running and hunting. The ghost of the dinosaur did just that, dashing to and fro and pinning rats down to rip out their throats.

At the same time, a melody started to ring out from the forcefield as well, though it was hardly an award-winning performance. A mousy-looking girl was playing "In the Hall of the Mountain King" (
) on a plastic recorder. Despite her missing notes occasionally, the tune was clear throughout the squeaky song. It seemed to distract the rats, their attacks becoming less aggressive as they tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. It was as though she was taunting them, but the sound of the recorder didn't betray her position as if they heard it coming from all around them.

One of the rats fixed its milky eyes upon the people inside the barrier and charged forward, intent on making a snack of the people sheltering inside of it.
 
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1/2
"I know this is weird, but can you pin this to the top of my pants?"

The look of confusion that Roth had given Luke had partly been due to the lightheadedness he was feeling after erecting the barrier. He was still in the midst of catching his breath, not quite understanding what the boy had asked of him, until he made it clear he could fight. He was not one to shoot down others usefulness, as he knew everyone had an ability to be an asset if given the right chance, so with a nod he had did as he was asked, grateful to have someone else walking out of the barrier with him.

A few of the younger teenagers screamed and huddled together when the plagued creature came their way and though some other did step up to the edge, intent to at least try and fight, most back up to the middle in fear. It would be unnecessary though, for as soon just the first twisted whisker of the slobbering rat touched the barrier it was doomed.

It's body became frozen; every limb paralyzed save for a few twitches of it's wide, insanity filled eyes and the tips of it's bloody claws. In a similar manner to the barrier itself, it began to glow a ghostly hue of blue until every surface-even the rotting maggots falling from it's moving corpse, were pulsing with the same warm energy. Suddenly a smell of buttery popcorn could be detected from the direction of the rat, wafting on the breeze moving through the barrier just seconds before a dark, quivering, and wriggling shadow formed behind the rats body. It quickly took the form of two small hands extending from an equally obsidian oval that grew to match the size of the rodent. With fingers first searching, feeling, and then mercilessly digging into the rats flesh, the creature was suddenly seized and pulled back, completely disappearing into the nether just before the shadow quietly popped out of existence.

And so it proceeded, with each monster that tried to breach the azure glow yielding nothing but a pleasant smell and strange small hands. The smells differed with each rat that was slain; sometimes it was cotton candy, sometimes chocolate, sometimes something that left the tummy grumbling, like hot fried foods that one might find in a carnival. One of the young men could have even swore he smelled teriyaki chicken skewers, so fresh that he wouldn't be surprised to turn around and see the little stand right behind him, handing them out by two and threes.

"It's coming up from the ground" he commented to no one in particular, simply observing with relief that the barrier was not only protecting them from the sides and above, but from below as well.

Thwack thwack!

Thwack!


Two smooth stones hit two corpse rats that were making a beeline straight for the soldiers, their bodies going limp and dropping to the cold ground almost in unison as a third stone went sailing over the device between them and dropped another rat that had been crawling forth from a pile of rubble. The creature had been so quiet that neither soldier would have saw it's ambush until it would have been too late.

"How much time do you guys need?" Roth asked, jogging up to them and quickly taking stock of what was going on. From the corner of his eye, he saw Luke slash open a nasty creature, his speed now seemingly a hundred fold what it had been. Bringing his attention back, he looked down.

The device laid out between the two seemed simple enough, but three of it's colorful wires had been very clearly severed. Not with a clean cut, no, but chewed to pieces in multiple places. No doubt the rodent creatures that were now attacking them either had led them all into a trap, or had simply chewed on the bomb when it was left unattended. As if the setback was of no consequence to them, but more likely they simply had no time to waste, the taller of the two armed men knelled on the ground, and began unscrewing the main box while the other unraveled and cut new lengths of wire, prepping it for installation.

"Eighty seconds-" he started.

"Sixty" the other finished, handing him the first cut length of wire.

With a simple nod, Roth turned his back to them and quickly climbed the rubble, taking a stabilizing stance and using the small pieces of broken concrete below him as ammo. His eyes darted in all directions, seeing but not really taking in the abilities of each person on the field. Instead he was looking for any amount of cover he could provide.

Wherever a young women or man was about to be jumped from behind, or take a bite to the throat, Roth was there to drop the foul smelling beasts. Swift and deadly stones never missed their mark, sometimes flying right between bodies and barely missing human limbs, but never drawing red blood. Similar to the soldiers now under his guard, he wasted no time in trying to take out extra monsters or help with a finishing blow. The people that had chosen to fight were already capable and did not need an extra hand, and it would take too much of his energy to go after the rats that were still coming up from the ground. The device was to take care of that, Roth assumed, so all of his attention and focus went to making sure they all survived this deadly encounter. A life had already been lost, and even one, one small flame in a sea of hundreds of millions, was one too much to bear.

To the left of Crystal and somewhat behind her mech, another young women was picking up stones and rubble from the ground as quickly as she could and using her small single handed training bat to smack them out of the air as they were tossed up. The bat looked to be very old, it's metal starting to rust around the handle and bottom, but the collision it made with the small pieces of concrete and stone was solid. Once smacked, the rubble transformed into small bullets of purple, laser like lights that easily tore into the flesh of the enemy. When she missed her aim on one of the swings and knowing she had no time to pick up more rubble, she resorted to gripping the handle with both of her small wrists and bashing the rat over the head as it came within reach. With sweat beading on her forehead from the effort of the constant hits, over and over again she hit it, even when it fell, screeching and twitching from the amount of damage it had taken to it's skull. It was like the young girl couldn't stop herself, her eyes wide and her distressed voice coming out in short bits of sobs, rageful curses, and startled half screams as maggots gushed from it's open and oozing wounds. She had just lifted the metal bat far above her head, letting out a battle cry as she prepared for the final blow, when a low pulse whooshed through everyone's ankles and calves. Pausing, she only had enough time to look back over her shoulder before it happened again, and then again not two seconds later.

From Roth's vantage point, he could see from his peripheral the moment the soldiers finished rewiring the device. There was the sound of a thunk as they slammed the cover box back on, not bothering to screw it into place, and then what looked like a small sequence of numbers was pressed on a keypad.

Immediately the device went into action, whirring as it lifted itself about a foot off the ground with the same magic as what fueled their imaginations, and gave power to their physical world. First trembling, then shaking, the device looked as if it was about to become unstable and either fall back to the earth, or explode into it's base parts. This is where the soldiers came into play, however, as the two of them quickly stood to their full heights and took a stance on either side. Together, they put their hands out over it, palms down towards the box-almost touching fingers with one another. Together they began to feed it with a glowing soft energy that spilled forth in a stream of what looked like pastel yellow paint in the shades of cadmium, cyber, and minion. Once the box was drenched in their imaginary paint, they closed their fists tightly, tensed, and then flexed them open to stop the stream. The device seemed to soak up every last drop of paint through creases and openings leading into the middle near the gears and wires, and once it was done, it emitted a glowing warm gold light that shone down on the concrete and illuminated the steel toes on their boots.
 
2/2

Roth would have offered to help with the device but he didn't know what kind of intent fueled the mechanisms gears, so he simply kept firing off shot after shot from his sling-ensuring that nothing came near enough to stop the soldiers from the grand finale.

Together they began to spin the box from some unseen handle or grip, both of them taking practiced, alternating turns, their arms pumping from the effort and speed to get the device moving. Once it gained enough moment, spinning as fast as a top, with no signs of slowing down, they both took a step back and, sharing a look, put their palms towards the device once more. With one final move, they both 'pushed' at the air, hard, and seemed to click something into place in the device. Immediately it began to pulse, great whooshes of energy dropping out from the bottom and expanding into the air, widening out like circles formed from splashes in a pond. They were invisible to the naked eye, but the effects of them could be seen in the way that air could be observed-moving clothing and hair, and in a similar manner, could be felt upon the skin. It was a bit warm, like a summer breeze, and each time it hit a rodent with it's energy they writhed and screeched, filling the cavern with a cacophonous symphony of death as their bodies began to glow with hot yellow light and melt into the same pastel paint that the soldiers had armed the pulse bomb with. After only about four, or perhaps it was five, more pulses, all that was left of the ferocious beasts where puddles of ochre, their diseased fur having stained the beautiful paint to a muddy and dulled shade.

...

As if sensing that the threat was gone, the large barrier began to gently fade. The hue slowly lost it's glow, and the pleasant smells were swept away on the wind, disappearing like a ghost in the night. Roth watched it for a mere moment, a slightly sullen look in his eyes, before he climbed down from the rubble and joined the soldiers by their side.

"Do we have first aid? I can help administer it."

The taller of the two soldiers gave a curt nod, turning to quickly procure a pack of supplies from inside their gear and handing it over to Roth with some basic instructions on how to apply it. From there, the three of them set off in different directions through the crowd, hurrying to anyone who might need the help. As they moved, the other soldier spoke loudly above the chattering voices.

"We need to move quickly now! As soon as were done treating wounds, we'll be heading out. Our weapon needs time to recharge and we don't want another ambush! Pack your things and follow our lead, the wounded take the front directly behind us and anyone who can't walk, buddy up with someone who is strong enough to support you!"
 
Daven was breathing heavily when the last of the rats near him turned to paste. He’d killed nearly a hundred of the little fucks himself, and he was sure that was more than anyone else. He looked back at the barrier, and the fighters who’d stepped past it to stand next to the soldiers. So those are the fighters, he noted to himself. He was surprised to see Roth and the runt among them. He had pegged them as hiders. Pussies. Well, if they fought then it would be all the more fun to take them down a notch or ten.

Phil was there, too, with his flashlight. So he’s a ranged guy? Seems like a waste of muscle, but that’s something to work on. Daven was way past them, deep into the fray. He was pleased that no one else had waded into the rats like he had, risked as much, accomplished as much. He wasn’t surprised, though. I’ll teach them how to nut up, how to be worth keeping around. Well, some of them.

He nodded at Maria, happy to see that she was the only one close to him. He’d chosen his friends well. Of course he had. Still, it was nice to confirm that early. With her flaming punches and kicks, she’d done a respectable amount of damage. And she’d emerged mostly unscathed, although that gash on her upper arm looked like it might get blood on his clothes if he got too close to her right now.

“You’ve got potential, Maria.” Daven knew how important it was not to be too free with his praise. It was always best to leave them wanting more. “Don't worry. We’ll get you up to snuff soon.”

He could see in her eyes, that pride that prodded her to snap at him, to insist she didn’t need any training. She wasn’t stuck up like those other bitches (Daven used that term for any gender. He wasn’t a weak little fucking misogynist.). Maria had seen how many rats Daven had cut down, as well as the fact that he was completely unscathed. She knew there were, in fact, things he could teach her.

“Thanks,” she grunted, her breath still coming in heaving gulps.

He flashed her a winning smile, because he was winning. He’d won that brief interaction, and he was going to keep winning.

Daven could see Roth, and then that runt, who had clipped on a ridiculous set of cat ears and a cat-tail, taking first aid kits from the soldiers. He looked Maria in the eye and pointed at her arm. “Go ahead and get one of those pussies to patch you up.”

She nodded without that flash of irritation this time. Good. She was learning, and she was going to be a valuable ally here, as long as she followed his lead. Now, it was time for Daven to check on Phil while Maria jogged over to one of the soldiers. He found the big guy standing at the edge of the largest cluster of recruits, putting his flashlight away in his backpack. He had a melancholy look on his face, and it was time to wipe that off.

“I didn’t expect you to be a ranged guy,” Daven teased with a smirk.

Phil shrugged. “It’s what my gift is.”

Daven didn’t like hearing that kind of fatalistic nonsense. When there was something you couldn’t do, you fucking figured it out. You didn’t shrug and let yourself languish in mediocrity. The first time Daven used his gift, all he could do with it was run. He bought himself time to escape, and take another breath. That was good. Without it, he’d be gone. But it wouldn’t be good enough anymore if he’d stopped there. That was probably what some of those kids hiding in that barrier had done. Instead, Daven picked up the katana his dad had brought back from a business trip to Japan, and he fucking learned how to use it so he could end those monsters instead of running like a little kid.

“Don’t worry, Phil,” Daven assured the big man. He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll fix it.”

Phil seemed to hesitate, so Daven flashed him one of those winning smiles. “We’ll try out some weapons, do some combat training, turn you into a proper badass, yeah?” He gestured towards the soldiers. “Surely they’ve got everything we’d need for that. Don’t worry, bud. I’ve got you.”

He didn’t wait around for the big guy’s answer. He could tell he was coming to terms with what Daven was proposing. Sometimes people needed a little bit of time to figure out he was right, to figure out how important it was to become valuable , and the Daven could help them do it. Shortly, Phil would either accept it, or he’d be left behind, just a man who wasted his potential. As long as it didn’t take too long, Daven didn’t mind waiting.

So, he left him to it, and started strutting around the camp, occasionally flipping his sword in his hand, eyes looking over everyone’s heads to try to figure out where they were going. He vaguely heard the soldiers speak to everyone, but he couldn't be bothered to listen. He intended to lead the way, as soon as he figured out which way that was. That’s what was important to him. Let the others do the first aid stuff, all the support work. Men like Daven were meant to be moving forward, and when they couldn’t do that, looking forward. Always forward.
 
Thank god it was over... Crystal sighed and looked around at the myriad of disgusting rat corpses. Some of them were still twitching as though the hunger for violence was struggling to accept that its vessel had perished. It was a blessing that no one had died. Well, no one but the fool who had sprinted blindly to her own demise. Perhaps it was a good thing that the woman had perished from a fall rather than a monster. Some of the most gruesome deaths she had seen had been from some cursed thing or another.

"Goodnight knight, Offline," she stated firmly, the glowing turquoise cubes unbuilding themselves and dissipating, leaving her with her feet back on the ground when all was said and done. Having been so focused on her own battle, she had only noticed those huddled near the center and she cursed herself for not looking around at the other fighters. It was one thing to know who not to be paired with, and another to know who was made of stronger stuff.

The girl started to walk back to the group, trying to avoid stepping in any of the bodies or fluids as she went. Of course, it was a dark cave and accidents happened, so she wasn't entirely taken off-guard when her shoe landed on a rat's thigh. Instead of sinking into it, the hair literally detached from the muscle and slid with the force of her step like wet tissue on a smooth countertop. Her balance lost, she felt herself fall forwards into someone else, knocking them over with her.

"Shit!" she hissed, scrambling off of them. "I'm so sorry!"
 
"The fuck?" Daven said as he tumbled to the ground in a tangle, with someone else landing on top of him. "Fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped, pushing the arms and legs off him as quickly as he could, which was not very quickly. Fuck, he probably looked like a chump, taken down and fumbling like that. It made his fucking blood boil.

Finally, he got her off him and scrabbled to his feet. It was that frigid ginger lesbian, the one with the little mech-thing. Was it some clumsy come-on? Or was she actually that much of a klutz? "It's you! Listen, you've got good taste, but I'll let you know when you've earned a ride on this dick, alright?"

Next thing he knew, Phil was fucking helping the bitch up.

"You alright?" the big guy asked her, and Daven had to pull him off her before he fucking probably would've offered to carry her or some other cuck shit.

"Don't waste your time," he advised his new friend. "She can find us later if she wants to start being useful."

Phil gave her an apologetic look, but to his credit he turned his back and started walking with Daven again. This was a red mark on his file, as far as Daven was concerned, but at least he knew how to do what. People like that were always useful.
 
All she could muster was a flustered and slightly offended, “what?!” Before Phil gave her a hand up. She accepted his help gratefully, managing to only get out, “thanks, I’m-“ before the dickwad shut her down.

After that, she watched the little shit stalking away with his friend in tow with a shocked look on her face. His words finally sunk in and an infuriated scowl replaced it.

Did he think she did that on purpose? To him? Of all the insufferable pricks to land on…

Her fists clenched and she gritted her teeth as she stood there. He was the worst sort of person. Arrogant, self-centered, insufferable. She had apologized for falling on him- he didn’t have to insult and debase her. The pretty boy thought he was all that, and that she was beneath him. God, it infuriated her!

She would never willingly work with that creep.

Crystal stomped to the other end of the group and seethed, cursing that guy several times over in her head.
 
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