Cereza

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The landscape was still. Too still. Sitting on the edge of a service tower, legs dangling down, Cereza stared through raised binoculars, constantly scanning. They weren't the smartest creatures, the enemy. To go through the Blood Streets was one thing, to come here, to their base was another. They were armed to the teeth with guns, bombs, knives.... here was nigh on impregnable.

She glanced up to the head she'd stake up a few days ago. It was already rotting on the metal pole she'd painstakingly plunged it on, and it smelt terrible, but it was a smell that would ward them off. They were primal after all- if the place stank of their death, they would tend to avoid it. It was like most humans. If it stank of death, it meant it wasn't a happy place to be. But that was the world after all. That's how it was now, at least.

She cracked her neck, and contemplated throwing the head further out towards the Blood Streets. After all, the stench was getting disgusting. She was doubting if the others that took this service tower when she was out were so gleeful of it. The gristle of neck muscle wasn't something that caused her unease, but others... she had gorge rise in their throats. Maybe that was the smell though.

Her smoky grey eyes fastened on the buildings in the distance, blinking through the lenses. A small silhouette shifted, but it was no where near enough to make her concerned yet. She knocked her army boots together. When was the next raid? It was cold, miserable. Her hands were numb with cold. One of the hunting hounds yipped on the ground floor. She liked dogs. Used to have one. Rough little dog, very curly. Never had found out the breed.

The dogs here weren't friendly- they were as hungry as the humans, and yes, sometimes they were fed human meat. Human strips of tasty, tasty flesh. Perish the thought. They could be as bad as those monsters out there. Nobody wanted to admit to feeding them it of course- but dead meat is just that. Meat. Dogs will eat just about anything. Even their best friends.

She inhaled and looked up at the sky. It was so black she felt like it could swallow her up. She licked dried and lips and tasted crusted blood on them. She was probably spattered with it.

"Cereza, your shift is over," George called up, climbing up the ladder. "Hit the hay, get some sleep."

She glanced down, and swallowed the taste in her mouth. Copper. Such a familiar taste. How could she feel tired at a time like this?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The bath was so soothing. It felt like Callie was stripping away the very grime and sickening sweaty sludge that coated Cereza. Cereza. She inhaled softly, squeezing the scrubber in her hand. Soapy foam coated her fingers. She stopped, feeling something rise up in the back of her throat. It reminded her of those zombie things, when she'd seen one pull out someone's guts and squeeze them. She felt oddly guilty and disturbed even though it was only a dream. But then....that she was dreaming all this was disturbing in itself.

She yawned and sank down into the bubbles. She'd slept for nearly ten hours last night. The smell of strawberries was thick in the air, making her nose feel sore. What could she do today that she hadn't done yesterday or even the day before? It all felt so monotonous, even if she happened to find a new person online or whatever. Job interviews seemed to be getting her nowhere. She wasn't, "energetic enough," didn't, "talk enough." So what was a girl to do but stay inside and binge watch things?

She withdrew from the bath and cringed back from the freezing air. It brushed against her skin, sinking into her bones. It was funny- as Cereza she never seemed bothered by the cold. She guessed the Armour helped, all that thick material. It was all so military, covered in that camouflage print. It hardly seemed necessary when they weren't in the jungle. A black one would be better suited at night. She picked up her own clothes in a bundle and opened the bathroom door.

At some point, maybe.... she sighed, walking into her bedroom. She threw her clothes on her bed and redressed slowly, taking her time. What to do, what to do... She opened her laptop, skimmed her blog. It was mostly just books and art she liked posting about and reviewing. She hadn't many viewers. Just as well, really. Maybe she should start posting about her dreams. They were certainly interesting.





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