The Lowly Gate's Guard

Ch. 8: Last Man Standing (1)

'Be the last person alive in the Zone.'

The words were written in front of him.

Dean knew of the Gate's missions because of class, but he's never heard of one appearing outside, and especially the ones with clearing conditions like this.

This was life or death. The Gate's missions were absolute. He didn't know how, but if he wasn't the last person when the timer goes out, he would die. He felt it in his gut.

With the state he was in, naked and weak, he couldn't put up much of a fight against the two. It was a primal feeling, the type you get when you stand in front of a crocodile. It waiting for you to approach so it can rip you apart with its monstrous jaws.

So, he turned from both the men and ran. He jumped through the chapel's window. His arms were up to protect his face. Luck was on his side, barely any glass had cut into him on the way out. Stumbling from the landing, he got up and continued to run, it wasn't cowardice but a tactical retreat.

The host laughed. A grin plastered across his face as Dean ran away.

The host clicked his fingers at his colleague.

The slump man ran through the front door and chased after Dean. A knife gripped firmly in his hand.

The muscular host dusted off one of the chapel bench's and sat. Leaning against the back rest, his head focused up to the sky light.
He pulled out a cigar and zippo lighter from his jacket, he then flipped his zippo lighter open. The flame sparking alight as it opened. He bite the end off of the cigar and spat it on to the floor.
Submerging the end of the cigar in the flame he took a big inhale of smoke.

Savouring the taste of the high-quality tobacco.

"It's nice to meet a fan."

He blew out a thick cloud of smoke from his nose and stared at the black hazy sky through the skylight. The man waited for his colleague to find and kill the naked man.

...

Dean had been sprinting down the street barefooted, the tarmac of the road was hard against his feet. He hadn't ran much since he was younger, but he seemed to be quite agile running for his life with a cloth barely covering him.

He hit a lightly opaque wall. The knock threw him off his feet, disorientating him as he fell.

On his back, the wall went high up into the sky, vanishing out of sight. The only indication that it was there was that it had a light blue hue to it.

The sky was dark, covered by moody clouds. The buildings nearby were ruined. Windows were shattered, some were even missing roofs and chunks out of them.

He looked at his level the streets were covered in cracks, glass everywhere. The streetlights were bent and unlit. It's a miracle he didn't step on any glass while running.

"What the hell is going on?"

Dean got up to his feet, he looked around the destroyed ruins that were once streets. The scene of the general area looked like it came from a movie. The world he once knew was dead.

The colleague of the host came running down the street. His feet heavily hit against the tarmac. The man held a knife towards Dean.

Dean's eyes were wide. He was trapped in a cage with two mad men! An invisible wall behind him; two destroyed buildings to the side of him, and an insane person with a knife in front of him. Dean had nowhere to run.

Dean looked around the area, the man not too far from being able to cut him with the knife. Dean picked up a big chunk of brick from the destroyed building next to him.