apocalypse

Chapter 1: The Mutation

I walk along the desolate streets, avoiding the living and the dead alike.

Neither will accept me now.

Every puddle I walk by gives me a glimpse of the person I have become, the mix of life and death. I wish that I could just be squarely on one side, rather than being a misfit in both. "It's no use.." I sigh. "Wishing won't do me any good." I realize that I've been standing in the same spot for over a minute. "Better keep moving. The Soups will always follow." I shudder when I think of them. "All I want to do is join the Resistance," I say, somewhat pouting. "But that'll never happen." I know very well that they will never accept me. But a girl can dream. I'm pondering why I tend to talk aloud, as it could be quite the liability, when a cry comes from down the street. "SOUP!!!" Oh no. They've caught up.

"SOUP! SOUP! SOUP!" The chanting gets louder and louder. "It's her!" I hear one yell. They found me.

I don't bother heading back to the little alley that I call home. No doubt that's how they knew I was here, anyways. In a moment of panic, I move without thinking.

I turn, not towards the end of the street, but towards the forest. Towards where I know I will find them. I've been able to find out some things, despite being too nervous to actually spy on them. I run through the woods, the sparse evergreens becoming thick foliage; you can barely move without running into a tree. Even so, I arrive at my destination, a small metal structure in a clearing, almost hut shaped, with a heavy-duty door in the center. I try the door, and unsurprisingly, it's locked. "So... Now what?" I mutter to the locked bunker door. "Is it like a keypad, or a scanner..." Really, the possibilities are endless. I took an uncertain step towards the door. There doesn't seem to be any way to open this door, from this side at least. "I guess I could knock..?" I approach the door, uncertainly, but to my surprise, it opens before I can do anything. "Hello. I see you've managed to find our little group." I'm standing there blankly, unsure of what to say. "You'd be surprised at how often survivors show up to the resistance, actually. Kinda how we came to be." A boy was standing in the doorway, maybe 14 years old, surveying me. "What's that on your face?"

"Uhm.. just some... mud," I say nervously.

"Green mud?"

"Yeah?" I bet I look really suspicious right now.. I've never been good at lying.

"Hm. Well, why don't you come inside?" he said, standing aside to allow me entrance. I couldn't believe this was happening. I descended down a rickety old elevator, into the depths of my new home.