Determinant Choices

Familiarity • 2

"The sound of your heartbeat drowns out everything, Aries. 

The screams of the unfortunate do not deafen you. The growling of the undead do not deter you. The cries of the innocent fall on deaf ears. At this rate, you are not scared of much after all this time. That's... admirable.

But please, stop upholding your 'tough guy' reputation- all it does is harm our chances of survival, Aries. I care about you, I care about us. But you anger me greatly.

The only thing you're scared of in this godforsaken world is losing those you truly love and hearing anything else but your own heartbeat. You're scared of it falling flat and finding yourself truly alone, because you don't know what unfamiliarity is, you'll never know how it feels!"

--

Aries Freeman, female, 24.

Still mentally intact, sanity withheld.

Freelancer. Lone wolf. Hardhearted. Realist. Introverted. 

Worked in mechanics before the "worldwide devastation", handy with the trade. Handy to team up with.

--

Somewhere inside me, I'm evidently going to be afraid. 

I don't show it, obviously. There isn't any time to show weakness, especially when it can be used to someone else's advantage. I'm not going to be some poor fucker's toy, I don't particularly like abandonment, not that anyone does. But when you're faced with making life or death decisions on a daily basis, that changes everything. I don't need influences in my life anymore, I'm intelligent enough to know a threat from a helping hand, or lack thereof. That's why I do everything alone.

It's been roughly 14 months since the outbreak. 14 months since life as I had known had been reduced to shambles. Hell, I see more humanity in those growling freaks than I ever saw in real human beings.

I have seen unspeakable things happen to people since this all first started, that's why no one is innocent in my book. We've all stooped to our lowest just to survive another day. But I don't get it... why are people so adamant on surviving? What will that bring you, when everyone you ever came to know in your life is possibly dead, what much do you have to live for?

I see why they say I'm a realist now. Borderline pessimistic. Every single person I have encountered in those 14 months have done nothing but fuck me over. The ones I ever showed a glint of care for- gone. Forever.  I find it hard to trust again.

--

I'm stuck in some small town inside of Kansas. No map, no sense of direction. No idea where I physically am, yet I persevere. It's something inside me that tells me to keep going, as I had said previously that when everyone you ever came to know is dead, why continue? It's like an unknown force. Of course, you wouldn't believe me if you hadn't ever experienced anything of the likes.

Strolling down the deserted dirt roads to me is tranquil. Being a natural introvert does have its benefits. Only the odd growler will be seen on these roads, because it is a quiet place, and luckily not yet ransacked. You see, scavenging is one of my strengths. I can find almost anything of use to myself. "Radar" was my old nickname to those who were actually ever close to me. And with this place having not been raided yet, this place puts "goldmine" in flashing lights into my head. While I'm here looking for supplies, I might as well set up shelter in one of these boarded up houses. Going to get tired of killing these relentless fucks sometime.

As I trudge to a slightly dilapidated yet cozy cabin, I'm alerted by the restfulness coming from inside. You know something is wrong when a place is too quiet. I honestly find it quite disconcerting, but investigate anyway. Crowbar at the ready, I brace myself for whatever may spring out at me. The eerie tranquility of this cabin still strikes me, so I press my face against the frigid timber door and I hear mumbling. 

...A growler, maybe?

I thought that was the case. I begin to feel unsettled when I hear more... human-like voices.

Not now... I don't need another run in.  

I sighed, and contemplated my options.

Either I face whatever is in there, or escape and risk being seen. How had I not been seen this entire time while I was skulking and scavenging this place? I peer through the cracks in the door and see 2 figures surrounded by one of those portable stoves, heating actual food. I was almost salivating at the thought of being around these mysterious figures eating a hearty meal and being warm. And, you know, company once in a while wouldn't hurt.

I lean against the door too hard while processing my thoughts, and it began to creak. I see one figure whip around quickly from where there were sitting, seemingly alarmed. I hide from the cracks in the door to avoid being spotted. 

"Hello? Who's there?" one figure hollered.

"Fuck sake man, can't we just have one night to ourselves? It's probably just another fuckin' lurker, sit your ass down!" the other insisted.

Well, they weren't wrong about me being a "lurker". But a tang of familiarity struck me- that first voice sounded strangely accustomed to me. It was soft and modulated. 

"Jesus, whatever. Just to reassure you, I'll go take a look. And don't forget you idiot, we're supposed to be quiet in here! No need to attract anymore of the lurkers' attention. You know what happened last time, man."  the first man said, softly spoken.

I took one last glance through the broken wood panels and saw the second man hang his head in shame, reluctant to look the first man in the eyes. I spent too much time focusing on the reluctance of the second man to notice that the first was loading up his shotgun.

"Fuck,"  I whispered, panicking. "I have to get out of here, or else it'll be too la-"

The door swung open with so much force, it really did shock me. I was staring through the barrel of a shotgun, which I saw was slowly drawn down to the man's legs. I glanced quickly at the owner of said shotgun and gasped. He also looked at me and gasped. The sense of familiarity came rushing back.

"Aries? What the... I thought you were dead!"