Alive

10

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~~~~~~⚫️Chapter 10⚫️~~~~~~
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The wind whipped past me as I took a step back, preparing myself for the leap. Without another thought, I hurled myself off the edge of the building, the city streets rushing up to meet me. I landed hard on the concrete below, a jarring impact that sent a shockwave of pain through my legs, but not the kind of pain that would have shattered bones or left me immobile. It was strange—unnatural—but I simply shook it off, steadying myself as I took in a deep, steadying breath. I was stronger than I'd ever been, and somehow, even a fall from such a height was just... nothing more than a sting.

Without wasting any time, I took off in the direction of the fire I'd seen from the rooftop. The streets flew by in a blur as I sprinted, dodging the occasional creatures still crawling in the shadows. The deeper I went, the less thick the black ooze became, the city looking almost... normal, if not for the decay and destruction that scarred every surface. The air began to change too, carrying with it the thick, acrid scent of smoke, and soon enough, I could see it—billowing up from somewhere just down the street.

I slowed down as I got close, the flames crackling in the distance, licking the air with fierce orange and red tongues. But as I stepped closer, the heat hit me with an intensity that was almost unbearable. I shrieked, stumbling back as the flames flared out, the sheer heat biting at my skin, searing into me in a way that felt far more painful than it should. Confused, I held my hands up to shield myself, backing away from the blaze. I didn't understand why the fire hurt so much, why it felt like it was cutting through me more viciously than any wound.

Before I could gather my thoughts, a low rumble echoed from further down the street. I turned, squinting into the haze of smoke, just in time to see a truck barreling toward me. My heart leapt as I saw it, and I took off running, keeping pace with the rumble of engines and the smell of gasoline that cut through the air. As the truck drew closer, I could see more cars following behind, their headlights flickering as they sped through the broken streets.

Five cars in total, each one packed with people holding guns, torches, makeshift weapons of all kinds. They leaned out of the windows, yelling to each other, tossing flaming torches toward the horde of zombies that lurked in the shadows. I watched as some of the creatures lunged at the cars, only to be blasted back by gunfire, their twisted bodies collapsing onto the pavement as the vehicles sped past.

The urge to catch up with them was overwhelming. They were people—actual people—and they were alive. Somehow, seeing them ignited a spark of hope, a fierce need to be close to them, to find out who they were and why they were here. I pushed myself harder, my legs carrying me faster as I gained on the last car, my hands reaching out, nearly brushing against the metal.

But just as I was about to grab hold, one of the men in the car spotted me. His eyes widened, and he raised his gun, shouting to the others, "Mute! Watch out!"

I barely had time to register his words before he fired. The first shot hit me square in the chest, a sharp, piercing pain that forced me back. Another bullet lodged itself in my arm, then another in my leg. Each one felt like a tiny nail digging into my skin, embedding itself painfully, but not in the way I'd expect. I staggered back, watching in stunned horror as the cars sped away, leaving me standing alone in the street, bullets lodged in my skin like fragments of burning metal.

I clutched at my arm, feeling the sting of the bullet buried there, but more than the pain, it was the shock that stunned me. They'd called me something—Mute. Like I was something to be feared, something they didn't understand.

The street was silent again, the only sound my labored breaths as I looked down at my hands, at the small wounds dotting my skin, each one burning with a strange, sharp ache. I was... hurt, but not in the way a human should be. I should be bleeding, or worse, but the bullets had merely lodged in me, like splinters, not shattering bones or tearing me apart. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, as if my body hadn't even registered the injuries as dangerous.

Confusion clouded my mind as I watched the vehicles disappear down the road, the rumble of their engines fading into the distance. They hadn't even given me a chance to speak, to explain. To them, I was just another creature, another threat to shoot and leave behind. My hands clenched into fists, the anger from before boiling up again, fierce and blinding. I didn't know what I was or why they'd reacted to me like that, but I knew one thing—I wasn't done. I wouldn't let them just leave me here alone in this hellscape.

I took a shaky step forward, still feeling the sting of the bullets, but determined to keep going. The fire, the people, the trucks—all of it felt like a beacon, a sign that there was still something to fight for, still something that hadn't been consumed by the black ooze and decay.

In the silence, I felt an ache—not just from the injuries, but from something deeper, something raw and unyielding. I was alone, stranded in this nightmare, and