Bill and Merin were situated on the second floor of a two story building. Bill was set up by the window, his gun resting on the windowsill. Merin stood guard behind him in the room.
It was some type of jewelry shop, with many different types of gems and necklaces and such.
"Are you alright?" Bill asked, seeing that Merin was sweaty and nervous.
"Yeah! I've just got this weird feeling in my stomach."
"Maybe you just need to eat."
"Yeah, you're right."
All of the group's bags were with the pair, sitting on a small table behind them. Merin sat down and pulled out a small sandwich that Bill had taken earlier.
It was a ham, tomato, and lettuce sandwich. Merin frowned and took off the ham and tomato and happily chomped down. He smiled as warm memories flooded his mind.
He paced around the room, looking out of all the windows. He flinched at Bill's first shot.
"Wow, that thing is loud!" He said.
"Sorry, didn't have any earplugs or anything for us."
Merin gulped down the rest of his sandwich and covered his ears. Shots continuously rang off and he entered another room, full of minerals on display.
He looked at them, saying ooh and pretty over and over.
He looked to the ceiling, seeing a small hole in it. Sludge was stuck around the rim. Bill had inspected it beforehand and it checked out to be clear.
As he admired the rocks, a tiny object suddenly fell and hit his hand.
"Huh…?" He muttered, leaning down to see what it was.
It had bounced underneath one of the tables, and he got a better look at it.
It was a rotten tooth.
"Where did that come from…?" He muttered to himself, turning his gaze back up to the hole in the ceiling.
He saw nothing up there, but fear overrode his body at that moment.
He turned around and jumped back at what he saw. It was an infected right behind him, laying on the ground. Its body was oddly contorted, and Merin looked up to see that it had managed to open one of the narrow windows and squeeze through without making a sound.
Its face and legs were wrapped in black bandages, with only its eyes visible through them. It's torso was exposed, with the bulge of a machete visible down its side, and the handle jutting out.
"Bill!!"
He got up and ran away to him as the infected twisted its legs back into place, with loud pops and cracks as it did so.
"What is it?" Bill said, looking back and gasping in shock.
He immediately charged at it, running past Merin and shoving it away. He had his hunting knife in hand.
He moved to stab it in the head, but it slapped its own jaw and twisted its head to narrowly avoid the blade.
It raised its hand and sunk its sharp nails into Bill's arm. It slashed down and ripped through his coat, tearing off chunks of flesh.
He grunted in pain and was kicked down. The infected raised its hand to do another swipe, but Merin charged it from behind.
"Get away from him!"
He climbed onto its back and repeatedly stabbed it in the neck and shoulder with his pocket knife.
It didn't make a noise even as blood dribbled from its throat, and simply tossed him to the side. He slammed against the wall and landed with a yelp, as it stared at him with murderous intent.
Merin grabbed his crowbar and looked on in terror as it grabbed the machete handle and pulled it out. There was an almost slimy noise as it pulled out the bloody weapon.
If I get cut by that…will I become a zombie?
He cried out in fear while the infected took swipes at him.
The first one barely missed his head as he ducked down.
It stabbed forward and nearly got him in the hip, and it was getting ready to stab again but Bill grabbed it from behind.
It dropped the machete and tried to twist its head unnaturally to get out of his headlock, but Bill kept it firm in place as he raised his knife to stab.
It was the first time that it made any sort of noise, making a panicked squeal. It was cut silent by the blade piercing the side of its head.
Its body went limp and it dropped to the floor.
"What was that?" Merin asked, then saw Bill's arm. "Oh shit! Are you okay!?"
"I'll be fine…" Bill looked at the body with questioning eyes.
He leaned down and stabbed it in the back of the head, and the infected jittered and twitched with another loud squeal.
He began repeatedly stabbing it in the head until it stopped making reactions, with a squelching sound each time.
"Was it faking?"
"Looked like it."
He dropped his knife and grabbed one of the bags, making his way to a table and setting it down.
He sifted through it, pulling out a medkit.
"I'm sorry…it came out of nowhere. I dunno how it made zero noise!" Merin exclaimed in a guilt ridden voice. "I'm really sorry…"
"It's okay. Don't stress yourself out about it. This wound is treatable."
He looked at his wound with worried eyes, but thankfully not spotting any sludge around it. He removed his coat.
Bill let out a huff as he got to work, grunting and hissing during the process.
Although there was no sludge, for whatever reason, the wound was particularly delicate. The skin surrounding it was extremely sensitive.
Merin buried his face in his hands and listened in sadness, to the cries of pain filling the room.
YOU ARE READING
Final Crisis
Science FictionIt's the year 2077, and Finn Comoya, a nineteen-year-old ready for adulthood, finds his world thrown into chaos as several world governments release a virus into the technologically advanced world. Everything is still available; electricity, interne...