“The only way to survive is to surrender to our overlords!” cried one of the hooded and masked preachers standing in the centre of the town.

“I said I’m not interested!” the man practically screamed in his face.

 The traveller’s voice was muffled by the rubber gasmask he wore under the camo hoodie.

 The masked preacher shook his head.

“No, you don’t understand, only those in our order will be blessed with the chance to live anew on the second-earth!” the fanatical preacher yelled back.

“I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED!” 

“Seriously?! What the fuck is this guy’s deal?!” Thought the traveller looking around for any way to avoid any further conversation with the clearly insane man.

That was when he spotted it.

“AHA!”

He pointed to one of the armoured guards standing near the big gate of the city, it was made from crushed cars and barbed wire. 

In the guard’s hand was an assault rifle, its paint was worn off leaving it looking old and cheap.

“If you don’t leave me the fuck alone, I will call the guards!” he threatened.

The cloaked man glanced towards the gate and looked back to the victorious stranger, he seemed livid.

“FINE!” he yelled before turning around and approaching another innocent person.

“Fucking hell… how did it come to this?” the man thought stepping towards the concrete café converted to serve as an inn.

He wore an old, raggedy cloak over a green camo hoodie and green camo pants, on his face he wore a gas mask with a regular face-mask strapped over it at an awkward angle.

Over his shoulder, he carried a rucksack filled with a lot of the supplies he needed for his travels.

The wooden door to the inn creaked as he opened it letting the smoke of a dozen cigarettes escape outside.

About two-dozen different people sat around the small establishment, most eating, drinking or playing cards while some talked, most were silent as the stranger entered.

Quietly, the man approached the till where a large, shirtless man wearing a massive pair of jeans with suspenders stood anxiously.

“You guys need any work done around here?” the man asked before even reaching the seat he would sit on moments later.

The innkeeper looked the man up and down.

“Are you registered?” he asked.

The stranger nodded.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dog tag with five engraved strokes.

The innkeeper snatched the dog tag and brought it closer to his eyes.

“Engravements? Where’d you find this?” he asked.

The stranger breathed a muffled sigh.

“I didn’t find it, I got it when I registered with the guild!”

The innkeeper cracked a smile.

“Sure you did, these kinds of dog tags aren’t in use since about twenty-twenty five, that’s twenty years ago!” he said in a mocking tone.

“Nowadays they carry a signature.”

The stranger didn’t comment, he only grabbed his dog tag and placed it back into his pocket before leaning forward towards the innkeeper.

“Come on, man.”

“I’m just looking to fund my travels; I’ll accept a single meal as payment!” he offered desperately.

“I- I really shouldn’t… If they find out I’m giving out work to an unregistered nobody…” the innkeeper said glancing around, even so, his indecisiveness was enough confirmation for the stranger to know there was a job to be done.

“Come on, you said it yourself, these kinds of tags were used, I have a tag and I promise you I’m registered!” he leaned so far forward that the innkeeper started to back away.

“Alright! Fine!” the innkeeper relented.

He leaned in close to the stranger and whispered directly into his ear.

“Behind the inn, somebody’s been stealing our food, the guards won’t lift a finger for some reason!” the man gritted his teeth.

“They’ve been appearing every single night! I can’t catch them myself since I have to run this place!”

“I want you to catch this thief and turn them over to the guards, in return I’ll give you a meal fit for a king!”

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The stranger nodded.

And so, the rest of his afternoon was spent in the inn, chatting to the locals and sipping the same pint of beer he bought for one square.

Later that night as the inn continued to exist, lively as ever, the stranger was sitting in the fenced-off storage area located behind the inn. Several crates of fruits, vegetables and other raw ingredients littered the yard.

Aside from the two-dozen lights distributed around the town the whole place was dark, lit only by the monochromatic light of the moon.

“It’s quiet…” the man thought not hearing the mutant bats which crept around like flightless blood-sucking rats in just about every urban location.

Not even the insects made any noise.

That’s when he heard it.

Somebody was climbing over the chain-linked fence, not wanting them to escape, the stranger didn’t move, he remained still as a statue as his eyes focused on the individual.

When they reached the top of the fence, they jumped off and landed on the dirt with a thud.

As the thief sneakily moved through the forest of crates and barrels, they stopped by one of the boxes.

They lifted the top revealing a pile of salted meat.

The double-masked face of the stranger appeared from the shadows directly behind the figure.

“Good evening!” he said with a masked grin as the stranger shrieked.

The tone of said shriek confirmed that the thief was probably a woman.

She immediately moved away from the stranger with a stunning display of her athletic ability.

“Oh! That’s pretty cool!” he thought seeing the thief hopping over the fence.

Just barely, she managed to jump over it and retreat into the maze of abandoned homes the meagre population of this town had no chance to fill up.

“Who the hell was that?! Why didn’t I hear him?!” she thought jumping from wall to wall on her way to a small hideout located on the top floor of a partially collapsed three-story building.

A makeshift table made from a crate lay in the centre of the room next to the torn-up couch-foam, a different, leather couch stood in the corner of the room with a blanket on it, designating it as a bed.

A collection of three different curtains were covering the gaping hole in the wall which served as the only exit and entrance to the ruined home.

Moments later she could hear the groaning and heavy breathing outside her home.

“Gehh!”

“Ugh!”

“Nghh!”

The sounds slowly got closer until eventually, the face of the double-masked man appeared from behind the curtains.

“Found you~🎵” he hummed resulting in another horrified shriek.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” demanded the thief reaching into her cloak and pulling out a knife with a serrated edge.

The man stared at her in silence.

After a few seconds, he spoke up.

“I know you can’t tell, but I’m raising an eyebrow right now.” He clarified.

Seeing her attempt at intimidation failed, the thief charged at the masked man, she held the knife with both hands as the stranger effortlessly swept her off her feet with a single kick. 

“WHA-”

She fell to the concrete floor with a loud thud.

“Look, I just want to get paid for catching you, don’t make this harder than it has to be…” he said with a sigh as she got back up onto her feet.            

“H-how much are they paying you for this?!” she demanded holding the knife in one hand while the other covered the aching shoulder that absorbed most of the force from her landing.

The man scratched his chin as he looked away from her for a second.

“Good question, I hope it’s curry… or stew… nah, I think I’d prefer curry!”

Her brow twitched as she listened to the man go on.

“Food?! You’re going to sell me out for a measly meal?!”

The man shook his head.

“Not just any meal! I was promised a meal fit for a king!” he corrected the thief as his mind became filled with images of curry.

“What if I get killed!? You’d seriously kill a person for some food?!” she demanded.

The man nodded.

“I mean, have you had curry before?” he asked in a mocking tone.

After a few seconds, the thief shook her head.

The man’s eyes widened in shock.

“Seriously?!”

“You need to try some later! It’s pretty cheap!” he said with folded arms.

“Oh, I forgot, the whole probable-execution thing.” He laughed.

After a few awkward seconds, the thief charged at him once again.

With a bored sigh, the masked man didn’t bother with any fancy techniques, he simply grabbed her wrist, squeezing it so tightly the blade practically fell out of her hand itself.

“LET GO!” she demanded.

“THAT SEEMS COUNTER-PRODUCTIVE TO MY GOALS!” he yelled back.

He began heading back out dragging the thief by the hand with a grip far too strong for her to break.

“Hold on!” she pleaded.

By the time the idea of using the dagger to cut his hand came to her she was already too far away from to grab it.

“SHIT!” she thought.

Desperate, she dropped to the ground in hopes of using her foot to reach the blade to no avail.

“Come on, don’t act like a child going to the dentist.” The man said audibly a little irate.

“I’M GOING TO GET KILLED! THIS IS A REASONABLE LEVEL OF DISTRESS!”

The man turned around to face the thief.

“Sometimes, in life things like money, joy and even one’s life are less important than the great things that make us human…” he began.

For just a moment her struggling stopped.

“Compassion, honour, love, the need for adventure! These are things that elevate us above walking sacks of carbon!”

He turned towards the thief with a reassuring look.

“So, remember! Live with pride and dignity!… For a few hours while I eat my curry!” he said with a thumbs-up.

“SO, AFTER ALL THIS BULLSHIT YOU’RE STILL VALUING CURRY OVER ME!?” she demanded resuming her struggle.

“I mean, you are thief, don’t get me wrong, I’m not into that whole morality thing-…” he began.

“I couldn’t tell…” she remarked bitterly.

“But if you’re stealing, you live knowing that you can be caught!” he said turning to her as if he expected her to agree.

She looked furious, as if she was seconds away from skinning the man.

“It’s not like people become thieves out of their own free will!” she exclaimed.

The man breathed a sigh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you mind-controlled into stealing?” he asked.

“…” she didn’t reply, the thief only continued to glare at the masked man angrily.

“Did a wizard come over and dip his nuts into your coffee and when you drank it you became compelled to become a thief?”

“Perhaps a secret organization implanted a chip into your skull making you a thief?” he continued.

She slammed her foot into the ground in rage, shocking the man.

“That’s not what I mean!” she yelled.

“It’s not like I have a choice!” 

Tears slowly began to form in her eyes.

Her tone became noticeably softer.

“I don’t have any skills… I basically have nothing to my name… It’s not like I can just waltz up to a person and say ‘hey, wanna give me a job?’ or something!”

The man pinched the bridge of his masked nose.

“Look, person, I really could not care less about your backstory, I just want my curry.”

“What the hell would you have done?!” she demanded.

The man went silent for a few seconds before stepping outside, with the thrashing thief under his arm like luggage, the stranger hopped off the building and landed back on the ground with a loud crash.

“I would have walked off somewhere into the wasteland and starved with dignity.” He said coldly before making his way back towards the inn with the thief.

Tired of the conversation and the unending struggling, the man used his free hand to land a single, well-placed strike causing the cloaked thief to pass out.

Not long later, the double-masked stranger returned to the inn, thief in hand.