I slowly walked down the dim streets. Everything around me torn apart. Bodies of previously alive people scattered around. I held my shotgun in a position that allowed me to hold it up in a aiming position if I found my way into any fights or problems with anything. Without much of an actually plan, I was kinda just...walking forward. I was still walking before hearing a loud crash on my left. I instantly turned towards the sound, my shotgun cocked and aiming at the alleyway.
A boy, about 5'5, perked up his head at the sound of me approaching, immediately putting his hands up as I held the shotgun a few centimeters away from his head. "Woah, woah! I'm not threat!" He inspected me. "Oh, Sarah, right?" I was now holding him at gunpoint, pressing the gun against his head. Well now I had to kill him. I couldn't let him turn me into the police. Plus, I never said my name, and there was no obvious evidence or sign of my name, so just how did he figure it out?
"How. Do. You. Know. My. Name." I said loud and clear, hearing the echo of my voice traveling through the night. He just stared before grabbing the top of the gun and moving it away, half standing up, all in one movement. Yet he had froze. He had froze since I now had a pistol aimed at his head. "Tell me, or I will pull the trigger."
The boy chuckled. The first millisecond I saw a sign of him turning into an alternate, I shot him. Even after he collapsed, I shot him a few more times before sighing, staring at his cold, lifeless eyes. I carefully lifted him up and dropped him in a nearby dumpster. If this place ever got better, might as well not leave any signs of the past. And it was hella creepy anyways.
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Who Can We Trust?(A Mandela Catalogue Au)
FanfictionSarah Heathcliff, the younger sister of Mark Heathcliff, who had recently committed suicide, was seeking out a way to escape the alternate infested counties. It didn't help that the population of alternates was on the rise, she was wanted by the FBI...
