into fire (dreamnotfound) (complete)

one.

a little note before we begin.

this is a dreamnotfound fanfic. it's not going to be one of those insanely creepy ones, over extremely overly sexual ones though. it's mostly built around seeming extremely realistic while also following an intense story line full of trauma and tragedy. please vote and share if you enjoy, or leave comments or questions as you read. this story is completely pre-written, so uploads should be semi-consistent. there most likely will be around 5-6 chapters (subject to change), because i don't write super long stories very often. thanks. -e

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word total for this chapter: 1299

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Running. Always running. I can't stop for long, because then they'll catch up. And then I'll be dead. Worse than dead.

My throat burns, and I cough, attempting to get rid of the feeling. They're getting closer. I've been too close to the fires for too long.

The whole world is on fire. It seems as if I'm one of the few left alive. Many were taken out by the first wave of wildfires; they came so quickly, and with absolutely no warning.

Cities suddenly went up in flames, and people couldn't outrun the rampant destruction. I was one of the more fortunate.

I stayed on my toes, even though the majority of humanity didn't believe that they could be next.

Now, I'm just making my way toward the coast. I've heard rumors of an offshore colony that would be safe from the fires. Currently, I'm hiking my way through a small range of short mountains.

The snow hasn't yet melted off the caps, but it will be soon, even if I'm a day ahead of the fires. It's following me, slowly consuming the entire land. It's always the coldest right before the fires hit. Feels like the dead of winter. Like now.

I huff, a cold sweat rolling off my face in my exhaustion. Hiking my pack further up my back, my feet drag slowly, my breath coming in short gasps. I've never been the athletic type, even before this apocalyptic life.

The day goes slowly, my body tiring even more as the sun starts to set once more. I finally find the top of the small hill I've had to climb, and as I look out beyond me, I notice that for as far as the eye can see, there's just trees.

For miles, trees litter the land. I sigh. The fires will eat through that so quickly. Such a shame. Starting my trek towards the tree line, my legs ache, sore from day after day of being on my feet.

By the time I reach the bottom of the hill, and the edge of the tree line, there is very little light left. I decide that my best option is to find somewhere to sleep for a few hours.

Observing the area around me, I find a tall and very sturdy looking tree off to my left by about 50 paces. It seems like the perfect spot to climb up into the thick branches and sleep against the trunk.

Grabbing the lowest branch that I think can support some of my weight, I pull myself off the ground with some struggle, grunting from my lack of upper body strength.

After an unknown amount of time, I finally reach a decent height, where I'm not too afraid of animals underneath climbing up, but also not too high where I'd die instantly if I fell. Don't get me wrong, it'd hurt like a bitch, but I'd probably live.

I settle against the thick trunk, the cold of the large branch under me seeping through my clothing. Cold chills cause my body to tremor, and my toes begin to go numb. I forgot how quickly the cold gets to you when you're not actively moving.

Slinging my pack onto my lap, I unzip the largest pouch, reaching around for the small airplane blanket I packed at the start of all this. It folds up to the perfect size; not too big for my pack but not too small for my body.

Spreading it out along my legs, I breathe in short gasps, my chest starting to hurt slightly from the frigid air. I tuck the blanket underneath my legs and feet and try my best to cover my torso and upper body with it too.

My body warms, but only slightly. After a few minutes, I realize that it's all I can do; I just have to suffer through it. I sigh deeply and tilt my head back against the tree's trunk, my eyes fixing to the stars above.

While they're not the clearest because of the thick tree cover above me, I can still see them shining, lighting up the night sky. Despite everything, a smile creeps onto my face.

As a kid, I didn't get to see the stars that much. I lived in a large city with lots of pollution, and the only time that I could actually see the night sky in all of its glory was when we went on road trips overnight, and I'd watch the stars still as the car sped on.

My thoughts start to get fuzzy, and my eyelids droop without my permission. I fall into a peaceful sleep, my head tilting slightly to my right shoulder.

With a start, I'm awake. I hear the cracking of sticks and leaves under me, and with caution, I lean slightly, attempting to see what kind of animal is below.

Sucking in a breath, my jaw drops slightly at the sight. It's no animal. It's a man. My breathing shallows as my mind runs through a million possibilities.

Do I say something? Should I just try to stay still and hope he leaves? What if he wants to kill me? What if we could journey to the coast together?

Foolish. I scold myself. Even if he was friendly, I highly doubt he'd want to travel with me. He's probably an idiot and doesn't know basic wilderness survival.

I sit more upright, trying as best I can to make as little noise and movement as possible. Watching him from the corner of my eye, I fold the blanket back up, shoving it into my pack.

Cringing as the zipper starts to go up, I bite my lip, looking down at him again. Or, I would have, if he had been there. My breathing stops for a second when I realize that I don't know where he is.

"Come down from there!" He yells, his voice different that I thought it would be. I freeze and hope that he'll just think he was imagining the noise.

"I know you're up there!" His statement startles me. Yep. No getting out of this one. This is it. Great going, George.

I clench my jaw and finish zipping up my pack, slinging it back over my shoulder. Patting the side of my leg where my holstered knife is, I decide to comply, and hopely get out of this with my life.

Slowly, while watching the ground for any signs of movement, I climb down the branches, one by one. He comes into sight again, and I startle, nearly losing my grip. Yikes.

He's definitely taller than me, and he's got a dark green hoodie on. If he was smart, he could probably blend into his surroundings pretty well. Except for the starch white mask covering the majority of his face.

It causes him to stand out, completely distinguished from the rest of the area, even despite his attire. What's totally the weirdest thing, though, is the minimalistic smiley face on the front.

His tone and body language make the mask seem like irony; he seems like the furthest from smiling. From what little I can see under or to the side of the mask, his face is fairly tan, yet it's also covered in scars.

"All the way to the ground." I can't even see his mouth move with that mask. Without saying anything, I look back to my task, realizing that I had stopped completely about 10 feet from the ground.

My feet planted firmly against the hard ground, I turn to face him, but he's gone again. Looking around, my brows furrow in confusion. As I turn my body, he's there, merely inches away from my face, with a long, steel blade held menacingly towards my chest.