𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

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Late Autumn, November 2033

Colorado Mountain Plaza

Tomorrow, the promise of spring will blossom as flowers do, to give bounty to all her children, sending her rain and warm wind to kiss the rich brown soil of millions past, to waken the seeds and sing to them as they grow. Flourish in a ray of colorant. Zenith strengthening tincture burgeon. Prospering to be successfully fine and dandy. She blesses the skies with more of humanity's winged brethren, from the mighty eagle to the vibrant firefly.

And yet today the wind blows cold, a serenade for winter's song. Upon the ground there was snow, much like sprinkled bittersweet sugar over cake. The frigid air has a way of keeping warm flesh in the moment, whisking away body heat faster then it is replaced. There was a briskness to movements that melt with the snow. Stalking, like a specter, the bitter cold laughed as it tore through scarlet hearts and turned crimson blood to icy sludge. Muscles began to ache and grind like cogs in old machines.

The young, warm-ivory teenager could only help but pant for fresh air. Exhaustion inflated with frayed nerves, she longed for soft freedom against her blue-tinged lips. The air was thick with blunted knives, poking and prodding at the jugular of her brittle throat.

"Shit!" She hissed at full tilt. "Come on, give me something!"

Pastel-colored eyes, faded emerald of Evergreen, scampered past the lingering contents overlooked from bypasses as she hastily shifted through granite-hued drawers in an abandoned store. Follicles of burnt sienna contrasted heavily against winter-tide, pristine warmth coronated above her swarthy brows.

Small, porcelain hands soaked in red ichor overturned every piece of object in her way, dimly cursing under her breath. A needing crusade for resources proved to be infertile much to her teeming worry crinkling her forehead. Rubbish, rubbish, more rubbish. Nothing. Kitchenware. Useless, worthless. Oh, you little fucker.

A fourteen-year-old on a swift mission, just like the second counterpart across from her raiding cupboards and plausible cabinet with a door or opening contraption.

𝐀𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐦'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫² - the last of us.Where stories live. Discover now