There was a burning feeling within his heart. He could feel his body becoming tense; a thousand tiny needles had prickled his figure. In quiet agony, he had rolled from side to side. The dim throb within his temples had left him speechless. He had not even been capable of mustering the courage to scream. All he had been able to do was rest there; all he had been able to do was writhe and whimper as the chaos consumed the stark, urban terrain. The howling whistle of monstrous groans had created a demonic symphony for his ears. It was growing louder; it was growing closer. It was only a matter of time. The end. Had he really met his end within a store house? Alone? Rattled with fear? It took all of the strength within his mind not to attempt his woeful wails. Yet, he was not strong. He had needed to curl up. He had needed to whispers his lonesome apologies in hopes that some benevolent being would make it all stop. Apology after apology, bargain after bargain, he was only met with the growing noises of the doomed day; then the store house door had shattered.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. In a frantic motion, Vinny had sprang from his make-shift bed on the floor. His hands had clutched the blankets, squeezing until his knuckles were a painful white. He had felt his heart pattering wildly against his chest. A cold sweat had engulfed him as his eyes frantically search his surroundings for some form of an explanation over it all. One minute he had been telling his nonpresent Aunt that he was sorry for not feeding her fish, and the next he was in bed. Bed. As if having realized the entire horror was part of his imagination, his shoulders had become lax. He had heaved a few staggering breaths. As his chest had made the motions of rise and fall, he had listened carefully to the racket of his alarm clock. It had taken him several moments to simply gather that he was safe. Naturally, it had taken all the more to realize the source of the noise that had rescued him from a fate worse than death. In the most wary of manners, Vinny had grabbed his clock. He had torn the plug from the wooden wall of the store house, and he had tossed it off to the side in mild annoyance. It was the second time the thing had startled him! The second - and that was unacceptable for him. He had suffered enough of a fright within the brief passing days. How many had gone by, he was uncertain, but he knew a number had passed since it had all began. The nightmare. The trouble. The desperate wandering for secure shelter, which he had only found after running for at least one dawn to dusk day. It had been sheer luck at that. He had simply caught the door wide open. Not a soul had been contained inside the little room. It had been perfect! A small, shed-like house in the middle of someone's back yard. As unorthodox as it was, he had supposed no one would mind if he locked himself inside. A bed had been set, a clock included, and there had even been a few food provisions mixed with the many tools and belongings. It was a living space. It was a secret, emergency living space, and he had managed to comandeer it! Certainly no one would fault him. After all, the circumstances were grave. The things to lurk outside during certain hours of the night were dangerous. They would tear him to shreds if he were not shut away where they could not find him. No one had knocked on the door, anyway. No one had banged or pleaded he let them in; no one had emerged from the empty house, and he had failed to find anyone when he had bothered to take a glance one afternoon. There was no shame in inhabiting the shed of an empty house. It had been an blank place, as barren as a desert! That was fine with him. Though he would never admit it aloud, he thought it all for the better. If no one else were around, there would be plenty of supplies for him. He could simply stay within the shed while concocting a plan. He could bide his time and not worry about where he would be sleeping, or if he were safe.

As Vinny dwelt on the matter of security, he had tossed the blankets off of his body. A quite glance had been given to the thin mattress he sat on. With a weary smile, he had patted the object before rising from bed. The beat of his heart had gradually slowed, as well as the labor of his breath. He was at peace. He was alive - and that was everything he needed to know in order to smile crookedly and crawl away from the mattress. A loud yawn had erupted from his throat as he stretched. His bony fingers had scraped at the sides of his wrinkled green t-shirt before fixing the hem of his tan shorts. As he did every morning, he had sought to motivate himself; he had searched for a reason to move, as well as a means to think. Water had been splashed over his pale face. His hands had tugged at the mop of pumpkin orange hair atop his head; then they had taken to rubbing at his eyes, his temples. He had paced the ground, muttering his incoherent statements until he had finally grown weary of the wooden shack's appearence. Habitually, he had slipped on his shoes. He had grasped the rake from the rack wall; then he had opened the door with a thought of caution. The creaking noise it had made filled his mind with adrenaline. His tawny eyes had become wide as the light from the outside slivered against his face. The sun. It was warm. It was ... So warm, and he was happy to feel it. With a bout of eagerness, he had thrust the door open. The rake had been held in a quirky manner, as if he wanted to swing it like a bat at anything to draw near him. When nothing had come, Vinny had taken to holding it like a walking stick as he emerged. A new day had began. Another new day within hell...

Charles wasn't a particularly brave man; neither was he strong, cunning, or armed, even. But there was one thing Charles could do that fixed all of his problems- he was fast. 'Leave and let live!', as he would say. In fact, that was exactly what he had done last night.

He couldn't hear much now, save for the pitch of the wind and his own reverberating heartbeat. It was just another corner to safety, another corner out of this town- another corner to anywhere but here. Charles felt trapped and alone, and as much as he fancied the idea of being the last human alive, this was definitely not the way he wanted it to end. His fingers inched slowly around sharp turn of the stairs. And if he had been in any other situation, he might have stopped to admire the handiwork. Charles struggled up into a standing position, and took a weak breath.

One. Two. Three.

With a jump, he hurdled down the hall and past the flickering shadows, ignoring the pounding of blood in his ears, tears threatening to burn his eyes.

Charles' train of thought stopped, and he jerked up abruptly, only to be greeted by a large branch and a mouthful of leaves. The first semi-coherent idea that fluttered across his mind was: 'Am I dead?' And as if to answer his question, the tree gave a startling snap, and Charles tumbled ungracefully down in a flailing mess of limbs and tangled foliage. He stifled a curse as pain coursed through his back and ended somewhere in his throbbing head. No- he was definitely alive. Logically, if he was alive, then he must have escaped from his apartment.

"Remind me never, never to rent a tenth floor room ever again." Charles muttered. They say there is no such thing as Hell on earth. He took a shaky breath, and with help from the tree, Charles staggered upright, trying his hardest to ignore the pain lacing up his abdomen. A quick survey of his surroundings told him that he was sleeping in a tree overlooking a fenced-in shady, overgrown yard that had (you guessed it) an old, decaying shed. "Sure looks like Hell to me."

Silence. That's all she could hear. That's all she wanted to hear. After that dreadful night, she wouldn't want to hear anything ever again.

Chain walked into her bathroom, with sunlight beaming all through her window, so there wasn't any need to turn the light on. She raised her left arm and examined it. There was a bandage that had reached from her wrist to her elbow. She tried touching it, but of no prevail. And it had only made the pain aggrivate more. Cautiously, she had tired peeling off the bandages and had seen part of a gash sewn up and had looked it had been healing. She taped the bandage back up and continued on with her business.

Just when she had began to finish, she had heard a loud banging noise at the front door. She froze, hoping that whatever had happened to her the night before, hadn't come back for more.

The gentle light of the sun had enveloped Vinny with a sense of complaceny. Nothing seemed horrible with the glow; it left him feeling warm, and it left him feeling safe. Like a small child who had just recieved a night light, he had smiled comfortably. The color had seemed to return to his face as he took slow strides into the deeper regions of the yard. After each step, he had seemed to become more confident. His heart had slowed, and his mind had followed in suit.

When he had reached the center of the yard, he had planted the rake firmly against the ground. He had straightened his anxious body to get a finer look at things; his head twisting left and right, up and down, as if to view what he had deemed to be his property. It did not look particularly beaten. The yard was in tact, and the house appeared just as he had seen it the night before. That was good news; that was perfect news! His grin had become all the more crooked. Slowly, he had rolled his shoulders before inhaling a deep breath to try and relax himself. "G'morning, Vinny." He had whispered to himself before grasping the rake. In a brisk motion, he had set it against his shoulder as if it were a rifle he were carrying.

Just as he began advancing towards the house to explore it a little more, his eyes had caught hold of something lurking within the tree. Suddenly, he had been stripped of his confidence. The rake had taken on its sword-like stance, and, in a frantic matter, he had swung the thing before heaving: "Out now! Out now!" The rush coursing throughout his body was almost painful. He could feel his breath constricting as he stared at the tree and what he could not make out. It had not dawned upon him that anyone were sleeping there; rather, he had felt a threat ... As if one of those things had remained to strike him down when he least expected it. His dream had taunted his brain, heightening his senses as he slammed the rake against the ground and let out a loud, frightened yell: "Get out of the tree! It's morning already - can't a guy get a break? Just a break!" Once more he had slammed the rake against the ground, the prongs breaking off from the force. Soon he had become too worn to continue. He had dropped the rake and had turned to scurry off towards the house. His hands had brutally grasped the back door handle, rattling it and pushing on it ignorantly, as if he had made himself too hysterical to understand how to use it properly. No matter what he tried, he had been incapable of getting the thing open; thus he had began kicking it and cursing aloud and wailing. His foot had kept going until it had become apparent that he was not going to get the thing open. That had prompted a brief strike of the entrance with his shoulder before he had sank to the ground. "It's morning, dammit - morning!"

Vinny had taken a deep breath before risking another glance towards the tree. Nothing had seemed to jump down. Nothing at all, which had left him feeling angry, if not a little bitter. Tears had stung his eyes as he got to his feet and walked backward to regather his 'weapon' of choice. All the while, he had wiped the salty water from his eyes, smudging dirt against his face.

"I'm too young for this." He had murmured in a volumous heave. His shoulders had began shaking wildly as he moved about, hugging the slender garden tool as if it were a long lost, batter friend.

She quickly dove into her bedroom grabbing any blunt instrument she could find and inflict damage upon with. She had realized then and there that she had a baseball bat. Problem was, it was supporting the door from any intruders. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." She inched herself by the doorframe. The pounding started to sound more presise as she had made her move and closed in on it. Prepared to take the bat and inflict pain, Chain quickly withdrew the bat as the door swung open...

Charles heard something that quite possibly could have been four soap opera seasons in one minute. "Hello?" He lazily called out. The fence was too high for him to climb, but maybe if went around, there'd be some sort of front that he could enter through. Whoever was in there sounded like they needed some help- and to add more to the situation, Charles was going to try help him. (Because God knows how long he's been out here without a soul in sight.) Besides that, it was light outside and he had yet to see one of those things. Maybe they were afraid of the light- although everything to him already sounded like a cheap horror novel. 'Oh well.' He thought, 'More cliche to go around.'

Vinny was not apt to admit his own cowardice. After having scared himself, he had found a rush of anger flying throughout his veins. In silent thought, he had condemned himself. Sluggishly, he had planted the rake in the ground; then he had lifted it, only to again repeat the action time and again until he had once more found the back door to the house. Jiggling the handle, he had opened it to peek inside, but not before giving a look back at the shed, and towards the fence. A lazy hello had captured his ears; the rake had crashed to the floor.

He was confident that the brutal beings lurking the streets had never uttered hello. There would be no tricks to the matter at that. They were ignorant, violent things. No sense. No intellect. Certainly they could not speak! Choking on his surprise, Vinny had attempted to stammer: "H-h-hello? Someone's really there?" He'd shouted. His prior complacency of being alone had diminished somewhat as he peeked into the house, then back outside. "Are you out front? Find the door - I'll unlock it!" He had explained before hurrying off inside. His feet had reverberated throughout the building as he sought out the door, only to pass the bedroom as its entry way were unlocked.

In a quick manner, Vinny had paused. His floppy red hair had rushed outward, flying back as his torso had turned to stare at the open way, and the woman holding a bat. People? Two of them? He had felt an exciting twang of reassurement, and as if to say that he were doing something, he had held up his hands to beg her wait a moment. Then he had been off again to find the front door and unlock it (were it locked).

The back of his mind was on fire as he scurried. He had searched the house the day before - and not a soul had been found within. The existence of other people was remarkable, but, he had to wonder ... Where had they come from, and why had he failed to notice? His fingers had located the front door. In a quick and eager manner, he had unlocked it and thrust it open for just anyone to walk inside, then he had turned himself around to stare off towards the bedroom down the hall. He was at a loss for words.

He wasn't alone. While he was not about to share his supplies, something about company invigorated him.

He stepped lightly around the bushes lining the towering fence and thought: 'How could I have missed him?' Charles didn't know where he was currently, but he figured he must have gotten to the other side of the city somehow. There weren't any forests where he had lived, and he knew he couldn't be in another town because he hadn't driven by the gates last night. It was then that he noticed the houses were much larger, and the atmosphere was actually... nice for once. Charles compared it in his mind with his apartment in the slums and shuddered.

"Are you out front? Find the door - I'll unlock it!"

He tucked a few loose brown hairs back behind his ears and shouted back. "I'm on the side! Hold on, I'm working around your damn fence!" Oddly, he felt satisfied to be cursing at someone. Throwing obscenities at those things never seemed to deter them from their path towards Charles.

...Your damn fence!. The statement had resonated within the back of Vinny's mind as he inhaled a few deep breaths. His heart was racing like never before; the sweat to have gathered on his palms left him feeling warm and sticky. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but he felt proud of the rush he had received. He felt all the more proud that he had accomplished a mess of things almost immediately after waking up! If he had been gifted the chance, he would have waggled the fact in the face of everyone he knew - the ones who had always told him he were lazy and unaccomplished.

Grinning inwardly, Vinny had seemed to watch between the door and bedroom. Soon his joy had splattered against a metaphysical floor. The gravity of the situation had sank within him again. He had realized something once again, and it had left him quivering within his shoes. For a moment, he had felt the bit of twitching panic rise within his throat. What an adventure he was having. In a quiet manner, Vinny had wiped his eyes. His lip had seemed to twitch as he shuffled to poke his head outside of the front door. The messy mop of hair against his head had jerked from the motion, strands dropping to his face quickly. Young as he seemed, it gave the insightful clue that he were nothing more than a teenager - or possibly a young adult. He was sloppy, unsophisticated, and beaming with childish tendency and fear. The way he bit his lip in anticipation, or bounced from foot to foot, was more than enough evidence to his immaturity.

"It's not my house!" He had called out suddenly before glancing back towards the direction the bedroom had been. "Someone else is here too!"

Charles looked up from his feet. "What? Other people? How many?" His head was spinning with excitement. Were there really people inside? If so, how many? Were there supplies? His mind was flushed with relief when his fingers finally unearthed a corner of the gate- it felt a little something like a hinge. "I think I see the gate! Did you open it?"

"O-only one! I saw a girl, I think!" Vinny had beamed as he set foot out the front door, his fingers holding it open as he leaned outward to look at the yard. Things looked almost peaceful. The ghost town nature of the place, while it gnawed at his nerves, did little more than poke at his mind. The destruction seemed limited, if not nonexistent, which led him to wonder if the town had even been touched.

He had bitten his lip in contemplation before the mention of a gate had captured his attention. A gate? "The gate?" He had murmured to himself as he jumped to the lawn, still acting with a bit of caution. After a bit of searching, he had managed to find the gate himself, and, with a bit of labor, he had unlocked it. His jaw had quivered a little. His hands had twittered from the growing anxiety as the town weighed on him. It had never bothered him before, yet the sound of voices had suddenly wrought him with the realization and grave fears. The corner of his lip had twitched as he smile loosely, stepping back from the gate and smoothing out his hair. "There - it should open now." He had breathed loudly. "This is amazing - I really thought there was no one else out there. That was, well..." His 'stolen' supplies. Was he going to have to share them? Of course not! They were his!

But it was a dire circumstance... With a frown, Vinny had nudged his foot against the dirt. "What's your name? You got one, right?"

"Hello? Is anyone there?! I'm warning you I have a bat!" Chain hesitated towards the opening. She quickly glanced outside to find shadows moving about on a dirt road. What the hell? Other people? Could there be?

She didn't realize that her bat had plummeted to the ground; she was too relieved to find other life, standing right in front of her. She grabbed her bat, and warily walked down.

"Not really. I was born in the middle of a jungle by a group of elves." Charles rolled his eyes, "We identified each other by waving, but now that I think about it, that never really worked out too well. Do you have a name?" Hah, 'name'. It had been a while since that word had come out of his mouth. His sarcastic demeanor certainly hadn't faltered during the outbreak, and he exercised it every chance that he could.

She walked over to what seemed like two boys. Chain inwardly rolled her eyes and sighed. Guys? Are you serious... She was thinking too much and could care less, if they were boys. Chain needed company, but more improtantly, a friend--or two, in this case. Approaching them, she overheard their conversation. Sounded as if they were blabbering on about elves, or something of that nature. Psh, figures.

The hostile nature of sarcasm was something that Vinny had never adapted to. Even as a young man, well into the years of brutality and poor retorts, he was never very receptive. Something about the chiming and mockery pushed him against his ropes. He would shiver and stare, as if insulted or irritable over the matter.

It had not helped that he had frightened himself so much. The panicking. The crying. The saying apologies or praying, even when he never prayed before. Sarcasm seemed out of place. This was serious. With that in mind, Vinny had gaped at Charles as if he were mad; then, with a shake of his head, he had tossed his hands to the air to blow the matter away.

Before he could find himself responding, he had glanced over his shoulder again to see the woman. His eyes had grown wide with the realization that he had not been crazy. "And there she is. I knew there was a girl!" He had smiled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts, only to fidget and withdraw them again.

His focus had again turned to the other male, a heavy gravity circulating about his air. He had been elated, but ... Fate had its way of working things. "My name's Vinny - care to share that identifying name or can I just call you Keebler?"

Hmm, they don't seem much of a threat. Guess I could put the bat down...for now. Chain smirked at her thought tossing the bat rather a couple of feet away. She walked into the group, stuffing her hands into her back pockets, letting them rest on her hips. "Hey." She smiled.

He shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, Vinny. My friends called me Charles, by the way. How long has this part of town been under?" Charles had lived in a pretty sterile part of the city (well, infection-wise anyways) and he had only recently encountered one of them. He supposed Vinny had been seeing them a little too often; the poor man looked like he was going to keel over at any moment. The woman behind Vinny decided to add herself to the circle too, and Charles had to wonder: 'This guy is a wreck, but she isn't?' It was only logical that they would've both met the same amount of them.

Chain cocked an eyebrow. "Been under?" That phrase never really clicked into Chain's mind. She didn't really see it like that. Maybe it was a term for 'infected'.

She hadn't really seen anything after that night. It made her paranoid. REALLY paranoid, to the fact that she couldn't really trust her hideout. It just didn't seem safe to her. Now, that she had seen life, two lives at that, Chain knew she had a fighting chance at survival.