WITH HOOD (black hoodie)
WITHOUT HOOD


Name: Chaos
Age: He can't remember...
Height: Five feet, eight inchees
Weight: One hundred and ninety-eight pounds
Hair Color: Jet black
Eye Color: Bright crimson with slitted pupils and black corneas
Type: Hunter


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Jump! Climb! Run. Go this way! Nonono, that way! Need to hunthunthunt! Need prey! Where is prey? Over here? Over there? ...Prey not here. No fresh scents. Must check usual hunting grounds! Must find prey! Must kill prey!

Wisely, the Common Infected scattered about parted at the sight of their much stronger cousin, wanting nothing at all to do with him. He weaved his way through the lumbering crowd of groaning, vomiting Brothers and Sisters, nose to the ground and sharp crimson eyes focused on the path before him. Hunters were a feared breed of Infected, able to traverse the landscape around them without making a single peep and pounce from a massive distance onto their target, ripping them to shreds! This one was the dominant territory holder, and thus, the other Hunters, both male and female, in the area paid him massive amounts of respect. Brought him food and trinkets--he did so love shiny things. Rubbed up against him and offered him submission in the form of mating. Chaos, as he called himself now, lived the good life.

Well...most of the time, anyway.

During his younger years, Chaos had nearly been slaughtered by a group of two-legged prey creatures (his personal favorite prey). At the time, he was simply another Hunter in the territory and not the dominant Alpha. He made a foolish mistake spurred on by his extreme hunger and chose his target based on the amount of meat it would provide, rather than how easy it would be for him to take down. The prey creatures were easily able to overpower him. They captured him. Kept him hostage for days on end. Beat him. Tortured him. And then, they tied him to a post and tried to burn him to death. Chaos managed to escape, but not without some parting gifts. Permanent burns covered the majority of his arms and the upper half of his torso. They no longer ached, but remained as grisly reminders to always choose his prey wisely, no matter how powerful he was.

Speaking of extreme hunger...it had been days since Chaos had a good, decent meal in his belly. The Brothers and Sisters he grudgingly shared his territory with offered him mere snacks from time to time, but it was never enough to sate his hunger. He was starving. This area was devoid of two-legged prey creatures, though he could easily find a four-legged furry one somewhere within his territory. Lots of them running about unchecked. The prey seemed to be doing a wonderful job of avoiding him today. How troublesome.

Chaos paid little mind to the Commons crowded around him, oftentimes knocking one of them over if it happened to get in his way. They were stupid creatures. If the food situation became desperate, he often took one or two of them down simply to fill his belly, though the meat was often rancid and repulsive. Just as he finally breached the crowd of staggering Commons, the most delightful of scents caught his attention. The famished Hunter perked up, sitting on his haunches and raised his nose ino the air, a snuffling sound escaping him as he sampled the air around him. ...Yes, that was definitely the smell of a fresh kill. Fresh meat! Maybe he would be chowing down today after all!

Eagerly, he trotted in the direction of the powerful scent. If he wanted to claim that kill, he had to get there quickly and chase off any Brothers or Sisters that tried to claim it first. Halfway there, Chaos suddenly paused, powerful eyes squinting and head tilting to the side. ...Hm. That was strange. Now he could smell a two-legged prey creature nearby. The scent was familiar. He'd smelled before in this area, but was never able to catch the dratted prey creature. He had never even seen this prey creature before. It was sneaky. It knew how to avoid him. Which was infuriating, really. How dare that stupid prey try to outwit him!

With freshly renewed irritation in his arsenal, Chaos snarled and continued on his way, wanting to solve the mystery of the disappearing prey creature once and for all. As he turned the corner onto the street where that super-huge fence, as he liked to call it, was, he noticed that there was something odd in front of the super-huge fence. It looked almost like a little den, separate from the super-huge fence. And that was where the delicious smell of meat was coming from. The Hunter's wariness was more than obvious. He took a few steps forward, and then one step backward, making nervous clicking sounds and furtively glancing around to check for other Infected. While he could defend himself in a fight, if he could get away without squabbling over food, that would be ideal. It was now a battle of hunger against his better judgement. This den-thing, whatever it was...it reeked of two-legged prey creatures. Chaos hated two-legged prey creatures! It could just be an elaborate ruse, or something that would harm him.

But...that meat smelled just divine...

Eventually, as his stomach began to gurgle impatiently, Chaos finally threw caution to the wind. He straightened himself up (as much as he could while walking on all-fours) and strode confidently toward the metal den-thing. He hesitated again, confidence shaken, as he peered into the odd contraption, wondering just what was inside. And...hallelujah! Look at all that meat! He couldn't even decipher what the meat was from...but just looking at it made his mouth water! Without a second more of hesitation, and with a happy chirp, Chaos bounded into the well-baited trap.

KER-CHANG!

The loud noise startled the Hunter. Instantly, he turned and went to leap away...but he couldn't anymore. Something was blocking the exit! He shrieked with panic, thrashing inside of the confined space, but all he managed to do was rattle the walls. With low, concerned keens, he turned back to the pile of appealing meat. His current plight forgotten, he tore into the stuff, eager to stuff his belly before he tried to free himself from this prison.

Name: Kenéz Gabor
Age: Thirty-four
Height: Six feet, two inchees
Weight: Two hundred, ten pounds
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Grey

The last couple months had been awfully… awful for Kenéz. Being stuck at work was bad enough as it was, but being stuck alone was worse. The day the out break infiltrated the campus of the CEDA had to be the worst day of his life. Up until this point, he'd been a dedicated scientist. He worked hard, he studied hard, and paid his fucking taxes. He was loyal to his country, his place of work, his lover, and his studies. His colleagues hadn't been so loyal. They fought for a little while, as the first sets of infected persons came running across the field, but then something changed. The enemy changed.

Not long after the battle was started, it was ended. They'd stood their ground until it wasn't just animated corpses with a taste for flesh. They soon realized that the virus had taken several forms of mutation and had different effects on different body chemistries. After the corpses came the big ones. The big ones that waddled in and exploded all over everything and attracted hordes of corpses. Then it was the ones that coughed and hacked and drug people off with their tentacles.

That had been enough for over half their man power. The rest of them were able to barricade themselves in a separate wing of the building, to continue their research. A cure had to be created - the effects had to be reversed! Kenéz was determined to find one. But quickly enough, the people around him began to disperse. One by one until he was left by himself. That didn't stop him though. He kept working. Though he didn't often leave his haven. Only when there was a desperate need for supplies. Then he'd venture out.

On the days he went out, he reinstated the cameras surrounding the perimeter. That made it much easier to get a look at what he was up against. The mutations were far worse than he'd imagined. There were more than corpses and the ones that exploded and the ones that coughed. Through the monitors, he discovered the ones that ran around laughing like hyenas. Then the ones that aimlessly ran at walls. Stupid things. The next that came was the most horrific, he thought. They were built like fucking tanks. Their bodies were massive, their yells were loud, and Kenéz never wanted to be out and about when one was strolling through. He'd be killed the second he walked out.

Someone he loved had been taken by the infection. His secret lover Csilla. He'd kept it to himself that he had a preference for men, but he was sure his colleagues had their suspicions. Such a pretty thing like Csilla coming through had to have risen a couple flags. Csilla had been on the campus when the infection hit hard. Instead of turning into a flesh eating corpse… It had turned much worse. What used to be a beautiful, glowing young man was turned into a creepy little shit that slithered around in the darkness; growling and jumping around and ripping things apart.

He'd managed to capture his lover, somehow. He'd taken Csilla and kept him in one of the isolated labs, strapped down to a table. It had been hard to handle, but he'd managed. He vowed to find a cure for his love, but the different experiments had made it worse. It made the male's body unstable. Only a week in and his lover was dead. It had been maddening, but it made Kenéz even more determined to find a cure!

Reviewing the footage from the courtyards, it was brought to his attention that there were several infected that had mutated the way Csilla had. Dark, violent little creatures. They liked meat. If he could capture one, he was sure he could continue his work. Maybe even find the cure. He had to try at least. So on his next trip out to search the area for gas to fill the generator, he set up a trap. Steaks from the cafeteria refrigerator had gone bad and were in no way salvageable for a human to eat, but he doubted a monster cared if the meat was bad. He'd taken it and set up a trap, close enough to his door that he'd be able to reach the little beast and get it inside. Now all he had to do was wait.

Two days later, he had a prize in his box. He'd made sure to set up a camera inside so he could see what it was doing inside. He watched it thrash around for a few moments before it seemed to get distracted by the meat. He bet it would be easy to control as long as he provided it with food and there was plenty where that meat had come from! Kenéz geared up in a hazmat suit, made sure the coast was clear, and stepped out.

The side of the box had a slot that he could open, just enough to stick the tranquilizer rod through. A tranquilizer would have been nice, but most of them had been used up earlier in his studies. Instead, he used a paralysis agent, doubling the dosage, just to be safe. From there, he slid the metal box onto a cart and hurried back inside. The cart was brought to his lab immediately. "Are you going to be good? He purred as he peeked into the box through the slot. It didn't look like the mutant was moving at all… So he took his chances. He unlocked the box and pulled the creature onto the slab. "I bet you weren't expecting this, today, huh?" He grinned and began strapping it down.

Csilla had been crazed once he'd reached this level of infection. There hadn't been a way to communicate with him at all. Communication was something he wanted to study. "Do you even know that I'm talking to you?"

The meat was downright delicious. More scrumptious than he thought it would be. And fresher, too! In this day and age, when there were so few prey creatures out and about, coming somewhat fresh meat was highly uncommon. So much so that any Infected who happened to make a fresh kill had to be instantly ready to defend the prize from the other Brothers and Sisters occupying the territory. It was a bona fide free-for-all, and the strongest typically won. Every once in a while, though, an exceedingly crafty Infected could pull the meal right out from under a stronger foe.

In the world of the Infected, intelligence was just as important and significant as pure brawn. Tanks were the most powerful of the Infected, but even they had to be on their guard around craftier foes--they weren't very bright. Chaos outsmarted the resident Tank in this territory all the time. Typically, only one Tank and one Witch occupied a single stretch of territory--they were loners, and they did not like to share. Witches could tolerate each other if a plentiful supply of sugar was available, but Tanks were the most territorial of the Infected. Right alongside Hunters. Boomers were not very powerful, and not very smart either. Chargers were powerful, but almost completely brainless. Spitters had little strength on their side, but were surprisingly sneaky. Jockeys were highly intelligent creatures with a respectable amount of strength for their tiny size. Smokers were intelligent, as well, but physically not too strong--they could poison their victims, though. Witches ranked in number two on the list of the most intelligent and resourceful Infected.

Hunters came in first place. A bit of a mix between a big cat and a mighty wolf, a single Hunter, if he played his cards right, could even take on a foe as daunting as a Tank. By far, they were the most animal-like of the Infected. With the exception of Witches, the others behaved, for the most part, as simple killing machines with an appetite for meat. But Hunters behaved more like pack animals. Ever-curious. Willing to try new things. Able to solve complex problems in order to obtain something they wanted, such as food. They displayed minute and diluted forms of emotion, as well. Chaos himself had learned how to mimic several different prey creatures. Including the two-legged ones, though he could only eke out a couple of words to lure them in.

It was usually enough to have the dim-witted prey barreling toward him, weapons down. Infected were not supposed to be able to speak, after all.

Before the unwelcome arrival of the strange prey creature, Chaos managed to finish his meal. He knew he was trapped, but he continued to look for a way out, sniffing the walls of this unfamiliar prison and clawing at the entrance he initially came through. Chaos feared very little, and confined spaces were not on that diminutive list. He did, however, fear starvation. He didn't want to starve to death! If he had to perish, he wanted to go in style! And with a nice, plump, full belly. As such, as the seconds passed, the black-clad Hunter grew more desperate, whining and dragging his claws along the interior of the cage. The sound was piercing enough to make the Hunter himself stop and cover his ears, yelping. He wasn't going to do that again.

A strange sound caught his attention. His hyper-sensitive ears attuned to the noise, Chaos peered out through the tiny circular openings lining the sides of the prison (air-holes so that he could breathe, though he obviously wasn't aware of this), instantly alert and looking for danger. The thing making all the racket was...was...hm. He squinted at the oddly-shaped and colored creature, mistaking the haz-mat suit for skin. It looked kind of funny. And colorful. Bright, too. It smelled odd, like a mix between a two-legged prey creature and some other scent he couldn't quite name. Several inquisitive clicking sounds escaped Chaos. He was completely focused on this strange creature, the likes of which he had never seen before!

As such, he didn't notice the little door leading into the prison opening until it was too late. Chaos yelped and jumped when something suddenly pierced him, going through the arm of his beloved hood. A knee-jerk reaction, he let loose one of his trademark screams, lunging at the closest living thing. In this case, it was that weird-smelling brightly-colored thing. But he couldn't reach it! This damned prison would not relent under his attack! He tried everything, from attempting to chew the walls, to clawing at them, and then even to bashing his head against them!

Just as Chaos was about to consider turning around in the little space he had and using his powerful hind legs to kick at the wall...a peculiar sensation washed over him. At first, he felt strangely...cold. Then, just a couple of seconds later, the most intense wave of fatigue the Hunter had ever felt crashed down onto him. He grunted, wobbling arms struggling to keep him upright, before they finally gave out on him and he collapsed in a heap on the cold floor of the prison. He didn't seem frightened by this sudden change in his body. No...in fact, he appeared to be angry. So much so that his extremities were resisting the paralytic drug. His viciously-clawed fingers continued to twitch, curl up, and relax. His feet were covered by ratty old Converse sneakers, so it was unknown if his toes had the same reaction.

It was at this point, mind still racing now that he could no longer move, that the strange creature's scent became clearer to him. It wasn't a new creature...it was one of those horrible two-legged prey creatures! And now it had him cornered! Confined! It must have done something to him, and now he couldn't move his body like he wanted to! He couldn't understand any of the sounds that the prey made, but he gave his own response--a low, clearly threatening growling. It rumbled through his entire body, but was centered from deep within his chest. His upper lip twitched, allowing for brief flashes of those razor-sharp teeth...designed specifically for tearing through flesh.

A more panicked sounded escaped the Hunter when suddenly, all at once, the prey creature reached out and touched him. The panic rapidly transformed into aggression, and though he could no longer move, he snarled, hissed, and spit at the horrible thing, unwilling to give in so easily. There was...something cold against his back. He had been deposited on something. The restraints provoked a more immediate reaction than the table did. The only thing he could relate them to was a rival Brother or Sister attempting to pin him down. And no one pinned Chaos down! He was the dominant one! The Infected's hands began tightening into shaking fists, resisting the effects of the drug. But it was already too late, of course. He was restrained, and he had nowhere to go.

The look he fixed up on the prey creature was venomous, prickling with rage. It was made even more menacing by his eyes. Bright, radiant crimson. His pupils were slitted like a feline's, and the corneas had turned black. There was nothing to indicate that this creature had a name--no wallet or personal belongings left on him from his previous life. There was one interesting thing...the hoodie he wore had a decal all across the chest. A bright red decal, made to look like a messy scrawl in bright red lettering. Chaos, it read.