Keep Running Darling

Who Am I?

For the second time, I feel my mind becoming less fuzzy and the ability to open my eyes returning. This time is different though. I can hear something. A voice? No. Voices. Multiple of them. 

I sit up quickly ignoring the pain coursing through my body, reaching for my ray gun. Slowly I make my way behind a shelf and watch the front doors as the voices grow closer. 

I grip my gun and aim it for the doors, using the cover of the shelf to protect my broken body. 

The bell atop the door dings as four men walk in, guns nowhere in sight and chattering amongst themselves. 

Click

I try to turn the safety on my gun off as silently as possible, to no avail. In seconds their guns are drawn and their eyes are scanning the small store. 

One pair of hazel eyes meets my blue ones. They are partially covered by a mop of bright red hair but I can tell they are out for blood. 

"Who are you?" The man attached to the eyes asks, earning me another three sets of eyes locking onto mine. 

I tighten my grip on my gun. Even in a four against one fight, Im not going to surrender. Not after getting this far without dying. I dont respond.

"I said who are you!" The man takes a step towards me and clicks off the safety on his gun. His voice sounding more and more venomous with every word.

I open my mouth to reply, but... I can't seem to find the answer he wants.

"I-...I dont know." I manage to get out, realizing that I really don't remember who I am. 

What is my name?

This earns confused looks from the other three to each other. But the red haired man continues to look at me, his gaze never wavering. 

As I continue to stare at him, gun still drawn, I feel the fuzziness in my mind and vision returning. 

No! This can't happen right now!

I feel my grip on my gun loosening and the gas station becomes gradually darker as my body loses consciousness yet again. 

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Party Poison's P.O.V.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

The girl standing behind the shelf doesn't look to be a Killjoy. But, she isn't a mind slave of BL/ind either. She has a gun. And she's in Zone 3. 

Her face is bruised and bloody, visible even in the shadows of the gas station. If I knew her I definitely would not be able to recognize her.

She doesn't answer my question so I step forward and try again, louder and more demanding, keeping my gaze directly into her blue eyes.

"I said, who are you!"

Her mouth looks as if she's trying to find an answer and finally responds with, "I-... I don't know."

I'm about to respond when she drops to the floor. I stare at the place she was, just seconds before, wondering if this is some elaborate scheme to lure us into a trap. With my gun still raised and aimed, I motion Ghoul to follow me behind the shelf. 

I round the corner and am met with a sight I was not expecting. She's covered from head to toe in dried and fresh blood, with wounds peaking from under her ripped clothes. Her dark hair is a tangled and bloody mess around her face. I can't help but stare. She's broken and dirty and obviously very unconscious, but she's... pretty.