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In the darkness, her weary eyes burned with sin.
The air is silver and pearl, while a milky moonlight glow leaks through the cracked windows that shine above. Below the moonlit glass, Vienna Olson watched the faint rise and fall of a sleeping man's chest. Her sharp eyes carefully inspect every sudden movement of his restless slumber, waiting patiently to capture her perfect opportunity to escape.
Battered fingers curl around the jet-black handle of her malignant dagger with stealth. The wicked man shifted in respite, sending a chill down Vienna's spine. Even though he was seemingly at rest, the madness blazing in his dozing mind was enough to scare the skin off her bones.
He is death in the form of a man. Joe is sadistic, and she knows that firsthand.
A ghostly path of light casts through the rigid rupture of the window, shining onto Joe's filthy facial features. Several cuts and fresh bruises coated his dry skin, accompanying an overgrown silver goatee and the infected yet self-healing scar underneath his dark eye. A tattered ginger-colored blanket covered his body, sheltering the evil vitality that sweltered the aura around him.
Vienna's eyes lowered to the slim pillow beneath the scared face and fixated on his switchblade hidden beneath the cushion. She imagined the fury of Joe's knife and the countless victims of its sharp-edged horror.
Unwanted memories that aged into nightmares clouded her mind. All the sinful acts that Joe's crew committed—the pain—the wrath—swirled within, bringing her back to the true enemy.
He is the perfect embodiment of a sinner. Like many, Joe used the world's end to his cruel advantage.
Sure, in some ways, everyone did. But not like him. No, not like Joe and his death-defying perspective of the apocalyptic world. Before the end, he was just another volatile man with a short temper joined by narcissistic tendencies, who spent his nights drinking Jack Daniels at busty bars—like most men who resided in the States.
Though, there was a chilling fire in his eyes. Something dangerouswas brewing, and the end of the world gave him the perfect opportunity to let it blow.
The fiery demise of humanity created a new and hardened Joe. One whom friend or foe could not trust. Even his own blood was at risk.
Selfish, cruel, and suffocated with anger, Joe tore down elements of hope for humanity as he ripped through the roads of Georgia, plucking hostile survivors off the streets—promising them security for the simple exchange of their souls.
He claimed them.
Joe created fear. That fear was the foremost reason Vienna stayed with the group. Even after everything she had seen or done—fear kept her contained. The Claimers changed her. They turned her into a monster—an advocate for the root of evil. It's not that she didn't want to leave. But, if Vienna tried to run, she'd die by dawn.