*CLINK - clink* another series of sparks is sent flying in the air. The hammer blows are rhythmic, bouncing twice each time against the orange metal. If you were passing by outside it would be very clear just what kind of establishment this was. *CLINK - clink* Flashes of memories coincide with the flashes of metal. Every now and then it would all come flying by, fresh as ever in my mind. Beyond the flames of the forge, I could almost see them. The burning homes, villagers fleeing in different directions. My mother was in my fathers arms as we ran. *Clink - clink* I snap out of it, and tried to focus on my work. It was no use reliving it, wouldn't change what happened.
I had built something here and now, this shop wasn't much, but it's mine. Well, mine and my fathers. We opened it up in this town a roughly 2 years ago and since then we've become a staple for iron wares. Everyone buys from us. Cooking ware, iron shoes for various beasts, mostly little metal clamps or chains. I was currently smacking a glowing sword with a huge metal mallet. Flattening the edges. I still consider myself amateur all things considered. I could make something hard and sharp, but there was always something to improve upon. I had to remind myself, I'm making basic tools here.
It was getting late, and the full moon hung low in the sky casting long shadows through the shop windows. Besides the light of the forge, there were oil lanterns. We lived here as well, as there was a home attached which had a cozy cabin aesthetic. You know what? I'm proud of this place. We had only moved here a couple years ago. And already, the space has changed so much. It was some elderly ladies pottery shop before. Now? It was likely the best forge I ever worked in, though that isn't saying much...
We had to modify it to have good ventilation, so there were new windows and instead of a door leading outside there was a set of leather blankets. I have been working on this blade for half the time I lived here. Not many people know this, but it actually takes time to make weapons. Like months. Even years sometimes. If you were making the same cookie-cutter blade over and over, you could get 'em done in 9 months or so. But this sword was for self defense, I'm going to practice sword cultivation with it. Learn a few tricks. While examining the blade I was working on... I think I got lucky. It came out well. No two blades were of the same quality. There were times you would have to start all over.
*Clink* my hammer chips off the side of the anvil sending sparks flying- a good sign as any to finish for today. I dropped my sword in a bucket of water kept nearby for this purpose. It wouldn't do me any good to overwork, the quality would only suffer. Stepping away from the forge I embraced the cold draft that wafted through the back of the shop. My father and I kept our tools on a series of shelves and wall mounts in the back.
But there was a violin hung alongside the tools also. It kinda stood out, varnished wood among rot-iron tools. Grabbing it, I push aside the leather flaps of the smithy entrance and step out into the night. This side of town was full of craftsmen of all kinds, it's district was designed to manufacture goods and then send them to shops in the market district. Each district had a district head that would represent the interests of the district in a sort of tribunal. Besides the distant bustle of the market district a few blocks away, it was a quiet night. Most people were in the market district celebrating the solstice. Others were celebrating their time off the road. That district never needed to sleep, and never needed a reason to celebrate. At least there were many cobblestone walls to muffle it's sound.
Taking my position a few paces from my shops front stoop, an area with some potted plants and a sign that listed things like; "No specialized orders.". I grab the bow from the bottom of the violin, start to play a simple song. This violin was a gift from my mother and she was obsessed with teaching me to play. To tell you the truth... I wasn't the most cooperative student. But now, I play it to unwind. I'm just glad to have found such a good town. Doing honest work for honest pay.
A white aura drifted out 3 feet around me. Nothing impressive. Just a basic sound altering ability. It could add reverb, volume, or distortion to music. In this case, it was limiting the distance the sound traveled. I'd be too embarrassed to perform for anyone, it was mostly just the playing of it that I found calming. Plus it was a good exercise for essence cultivation. 'Do it until you're tired' type training. It would help with my sword techniques later. The song slowly built tempo, becoming faster and slightly more complex. Testing the limits of what I've learned.
-Then I heard it, a woman's scream echoed nearby, causing my last note to shriek in surprise. I lower the violin and listen closely. Again, the terrified scream rang out. I hurried back inside and traded my violin for a hammer before rushing down the narrow alleyways towards the sound, as I couldn't use a sword yet. I mentally prepared myself, it was most likely a robbery and I would likely have the advantage of surprise. Crisis only ever comes at the most inopportune time it seems. And this time I wouldn't hesitate, I planned what I would do if it was raiding party. Attacking in the dead of night. The sound had bounced through the maze of streets and stone walls.
I had a general idea of where it came from, like a map inside my head. But with all the thick walls and funnels sound often traveled in unusual ways. In other words, it would be difficult to track it down. As I turned down a street it may have come from, I found nothing but a streetlamp and some wooden dumpsters and barrels. Surely someone who screamed bloody murder like that would be easy to notice...
I was about to turn to search elsewhere when I saw something glistening in my peripheral vision. A tiny dark pool was spreading out from in between some stacked barrels and crates. Maybe some wine was leaking out, but I slowly start walking towards it. Raising my hammer up over my head as I stepped towards the darkened crevice.
Then he came into view. A thin man dressed in a fancy shirt had a woman pinned against the wall. The womans makeup was running from tears. She must've been the one who screamed before- "Fuck off ya' pervert!" I give an intentionally light smack to the back of his head with my hammer. "Please just be knocked out" I thought to myself. *BONK* It felt like I hit concrete, the impact resounding in my arm from such a weak strike. He slowly lifted his face from her neck. He turned around with two fiery red eyes, freezing me in their gaze. Blood dripping from his chin, an eerie smile spread from ear to ear on his face. "What the hell?" I whispered. Is he under some kind of curse? Is it some kind of monster wearing human skin?
He turns back towards the woman, ignoring me. As if my weak strike made me seem like less of a threat. Steeling myself, I brought my hammer down seriously this time. It was infused in a way similar to my violin earlier, but instead of a white aura, the hammers head itself glowed orange. He cringed from the impact, but before he could react I brought my hammer down again, my arm reverberating from each hit. Pouring essence into the hammer. Willing it like flexing a muscle harder and harder, imagining the hammers head hardening in my minds eye. I was giving it all I had and it didn't seem like enough...
The man dropped to a knee before I landed another strike, and he fell over just as I went to deliver another. My hammer was dripping with viscera. The mans head was partly caved in. My heart was racing and I knew it wasn't over yet. He still twisted on the ground. Suddenly he reached for my ankles, snarling. But I stepped high and away from his grabs.
I stumble back into a cobblestone wall that lined one side of the alley. He threw his hands beneath him and was about to push himself up, but I quickly kick him in the side of the face. My toes crumple inside my thin boots. It stalled him from getting up, but it was like kicking an anvil. He turned his face towards my kick and bit the bill of my shoe off, revealing a black sock. Yikes. With another swipe he undercuts my other foot and I land flat on my side. partly into the blood.
He grins past the boot leather caught in his teeth, baleful red eyes starring at me not a foot away. He was grabbing at me, and with one hand I held him at bay but he was stupidly strong. -I reached instinctively towards where I heard my hammer bounce on the ground. I made a lucky guess. Gripping the handle just within arms reach, I make a full swing from where I grabbed it. I hit him on the top of the head, causing a few of the teeth locked in his mouth to shatter. His eyes lose their glow, and he collapses face first. A peaceful grin plastered on his face. Pacing heavily, I wrench my hammer from the top of his head.
-Coming to my senses I started gagging. Fighting the urge to vomit, looking away from the man. My right side was soaked in blood, but at least it wasn't mine. I pushed the handle of my hammer through a belt loop of my thick cargo pants and stepped towards the woman. Whom seemed frozen in position, until I touched a trembling hand then she melted into my arms weeping.
She held onto the collar of my shirt for dear life, shaking like a leaf. It almost made it difficult to get a look at her wounds. Bite marks were all over the side of her neck and shoulder. Gnarly and mean looking wounds. The medical pavilion was on the other side of the market district, so I'd best find a peacekeeper before then. They could treat a wound like this, and figure out what happened to that guy.
I rip the freshest fabric from a pant leg and start wrapping her. The wounds made gross squelching sounds as I tied the bandages tightly. Over and under her shoulder and chest area. "It's okay, you're safe, we're gonna find you some help..." but even I could tell I wasn't very confident. She could collapse at any moment. I looked left to right frantically, calculating the fastest path without stairs or slopes to the market district.
I began leading her towards the end of the alley. Her stumbling into my side, nearly needing to be dragged. She was about my size so carrying her was hardly an option. I see a group of three drunk and stumbling into each other turning onto our corner from the market district. "And get this, she was already about to start swinging- But you know what I said then?" His taller friend chuckled "Whaduya say?" -"Then I says to her- 'but you ARE a baker!'" the trio laughs. They were all about my age. Twenty somethings.
"Hey! Little help here..." I grunted over their laughter, and they all stopped abruptly, staring blankly back us. One of them letting out a *hic* sound. I drag her up to them and we meet half way, she was about to lose the last strength in her legs. It was like dragging a 140 pound sack of sand with me. They laugh at us "Someones having a good time." one of the guys said. His friend let out a cheerful "I want some of what she had!" That is, until their eyes gaze down to see the red drops hitting the street. "What the hell?" the shorter of the two men says.
The third person in their group was a freckled girl with orange hair, "Oh my god... What happened?" She asked. "Some psycho bit the shit out of her." I kept walking as I met them. "Let me help-" One of the boys hoists her up on the other side. The others following closely at our sides.
"...It was like he was drinking her blood." I said after explaining some of what had happened. "Maybe it's dark magic! I heard that could change a person. My uncle dabbled in it for medicinal reasons... Then they got him." the shorter man said. "Hmm.. I've seen people act pretty weird when they eat a certain mushroom that grows in the forest." the women said, "What do you mean 'they got him'?" the taller man said. "Yeah I've heard of that, but that's just a drug. There is this disease animals can give people that makes them foam at the mouth and get scared of water." the short man said. "Oh yeah, we need to get her to a healer right away!" the women says with a frightened tone. "I'm serious, who got him? Peacekeepers? Other necromancers?" the tall man asks again. "Jeez man, you're still caught up on that? That was like a half hour ago." They continued to bicker the entire time until we finally reached the market district.
It's like stepping out into a new world. The quiet dull backstreets of other districts were usually only lit by the greenish lamps. Here many stalls and shops shone brightly also. Vibrant yellows, reds and greens. Colors of all kinds. A person seeing it for the first time could be overwhelmed by the sights and sounds.
Shopkeepers shout out deals and wares to passerbys', whatever their grift was. Street performers get jeers of approval for impressive feats. Smells of cooked goods like steamed vegetables and pasta filled the air. The buildings here were ornamented, unique looking and tall. The denser population here lives vertically rather than horizontally. Some visitors even had their parties on rooftops. A lot of people were celebrating the winter solstice. Not everyone had the same holidays, but no one would turn down a celebration when it was happening.
We wade between crowds of people as we go, some actually notice and exchange worried whispers along with their stares. The blood had been slowly dripping from my back, leaving a permanent divide in the crowd behind us as they avoided and stepped over it. Eventually we saw who we're looking for, a pair in uniform. Brown leather armor and blue-grey interior fabrics, with an official looking patch sewn onto the shoulder. "Peacekeepers! Over here, this woman was attacked!" the women with us shouts out. Shouting over the blanket noise of idle chatter, sellers and street performers. They both glance from the coffee shop they were standing in front of. Placing their cups on the counter that a male teen was serving from. One of them reaches for a long blunt object tucked in a utility belt of sorts, and the woman of the pair gazes inquisitively at our group.
Stolen novel; please report.
The dark skinned PK woman put a hand up to slow our approach, we were practically skipping to get the girl here. "She's hurt, she's bit!" the taller of the two men shout out. We shed her in front of the peacekeepers and the woman PK grips her shoulders studying her. She had collapsed to her knees. "Figures, on my shift." the heavy set man in uniform said, eying the blood stain on my side. "It's okay we got you hun-" the peacekeeper woman says, pulling a pouch from her belt. They peel the now red bandages from her wounds and honestly they don't look as bad as I thought. "Well, it was an effort." she said patronizingly as she unwrapped the wounds.
At this point we started to become the center of attraction here, onlookers slowing as they passed to get the gist of the situation. Before losing interest and going on about their night. The woman peacekeeper tends to her, dabbing a healing salve over the frothing wounds. The wounded womans whimper had gradually died down before we reached the market district. She was mostly staring off in shock. There is a subtle crackling coming from her, her stomach was rumbling, and she would flinch every now and then.
"We'll need a statement from you. She was bitten-" she interrupts herself gripping the sides of the hurt women's head as she examined her wounds. "-by a person? Why? Where is her attacker?" the female peacekeeper said. "I-I- was back there, in the craftsmen district... Outside Orlands' Cobblery." The heavy set asian PK looked at me with a scrunched face as he quickly wrote what I told them on a small notepad.
He pulled a flat piece of wood with a simple rune inscribed from his pocket. It was a talk tablet, or in other words a sermocin, or a walkie-talkie. There were many names for it. A white light started to glow as he spoke into it. He spoke in a rehearsed way- "Station we got an attempted murder, outside of Orlands' Cobblery. Speaking with witnesses-", "I.. Killed him." I said, still shaking off the insanity of the situation. The PK continued; "Likely perpetrator apprehended, dead on scene. One of the witnesses admitted to killing him in defense of the victim.". He gave us a final look over. "Over."
A moment later a voice came from the small plank and the rune glowed. "Sending PKs to Orlands'. Return to Station with witnesses for questioning once they're ready for transport." The peacekeeper interviewing me simply nodded. "Okay." he said into the chunk of wood before stowing it away. "So, here's the plan- we need the five of you to come down with us to the station."
He looked down towards the women being bandaged on her knees. Then continued; "But first, what is her name?" he asked. "Haven't asked..." I said. And after a look from the peacekeeper I answered; "My names Jarrath Constelle." He jots the name down in his little notebook; "Like Jair-rith?" He asked enunciating each syllable.
I just nod. "And the rest of you?" he asks, pointing a pen between the trio. "My names Jeff." the taller man said. Then I heard a chuckle. A devilish chuckle. The wounded woman raises her head, smiling from ear to ear. Her mouth oozed red blood, and an empty but satisfied look filled her eyes. Glowing with a tinge of red.
"Mam, please don't move mam, I'm tending to your wounds" the female PK orders her, hands on her shoulders. Trying to lock her into place as she tends her wounds. But the wounded woman jerks her head up towards her. "Please don't move!" she says to the peacekeeper before abruptly swinging at her with a clawed upper cut. As if she would cut her with her finger nails. The female PK leaned away from it- stepping away into a battle ready stance. The wounded women had stood during her slash. Her knees awkwardly bent inwards. She laughs and tilts her head to the side at our group, then back at the officers.
"She's in shock- we need to-" the male peacekeeper goes to put a hand on her shoulder but is suddenly gripped by the collar and launched into the air. He flew with incredible force. *THUNK* He hit his head on the shiny metal letters of the coffee shop leaving a red stain behind on a corner of the 'C'. Flipping back onto the ground face first. The young girl with us shrieks in fright- the female officer pulls a thick short knife from her belt and slashes at the wounded women, sending strings of blood onto people who were passing by.
The crowd recoils from it in disgust and a wider circle begins forming around us. Not sure who is friend or foe they begin looking from face to face. The two women meanwhile battled each other in the center of the forming arena, the feral woman was swiping out randomly. Seemingly unperturbed by the peacekeepers attacks. The PK was ducking and rolling out of the way carefully avoiding attacks.
But as the peacekeeper ducks one swipe a man dressed as a butler behind her had his throat slit, a shocked look overcame his face as he grasped at the air around his throat before falling to his knees. At that, some people started to run away in different directions. The peacekeeper charges forward, a force around her knee shimmered into existence as she kneed the feral woman in the stomach. She hunched over from the blow with a shrill screech.
Then the PK stabbed her in the side of her ribs and rolled over her back still gripping the plunged knife. Before the peacekeeper could wrench the knife out- the feral women jumps away, twisting off the knife taking far less damage than intended. To my surprise the feral woman landed gracefully on her feet. All awkwardness in her stance gone. As a passerby runs past behind her the insane woman slashes without looking, causing the runner to fall clutching an unseen wound.
The peacekeeper makes a tssk sound at the woman in frustration, she jangles the shackles in her hand. The moment the woman across from her looks at them- the PK throws her knife at her. But it is batted out of the air before it reaches its target. Still, she runs in close to the feral women and leans away from a swipe before clasping a shackle around her wrist. Runes around the thick iron shackles began to glow yellow. The crazy woman drops to her knees, the smile slowly twisting into confusion and disappointment. Looking up at the peacekeeper. She just looks towards the other peacekeepers corpse for a moment. Then pulls another knife from her belt and plunges it into the once again kneeling women's face. She falls over completely still.
The peacekeeper turns and begins to walk away. "Oh, Steven." she said, gazing down sadly at the asian PKs corpse. At this point, me and the trio were just inching back against the many stall counters lining the market. Mouths agape. I couldn't take my eyes off their exchange, it all happened so fast. The peacekeeper woman grunts in mix of surprise and pain. Blood splashes across the ground in a cone towards us. "Ugh, what the fu-?" she begins to say the arm is abruptly pulled from the center of her torso and she collapses.
The butler who had his throat slashed earlier was now smiling in her place, curling his fingers examining the slick blood. I raise my hammer and take two steps to strike but he suddenly appears closer and grabs my throat with his clean hand and begins lifting me from the ground. Then slowly looking up at me from his bloodied hand. Shit, if they could just do that then why didn't the crazy lady just rush her?
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" the butler asks, staring with inky black eyes which were beginning to glow red. *clink* a white porcelain cup shatters against his head. His head twitches to the side as brown steaming coffee begins to trickle down his face. His smile fades. He drops me, causing me to gasp for breath. The butler quickly turns around, to see Jeff still standing with his arm outstretched. "Fuck, oh shit." Jeff says as he turns to run. In one movement I pull my hammer out and raise it. But I feel my legs get swept out from under me as my world is turned upside down. I land hard onto the ground facing the opposite direction. It seems the butler had kicked my legs as he turned to run all in one movement.
I roll over, only to hear a wet *THUD* and Jeffs head lands in front of me. At this point, the crowd was screaming and frantically climbing over each other to get away. Some steeling themselves for a fight. The passerby who was wounded earlier was also attacking at random. "We're being attacked!" I looked to where the shouting person was pointing and a man was crawling up a wall vertically without handholds, dripping blood. "Call the peacekeepers!" someone shouts. A woman leaps from the top of a different building into the crowd her eyes leaving a red trail. "Fuck that, have a taste of some good ol' fashioned whoop ass!" a rugged man with a long brim hat says as he jump-kicks the feral butler in the side of the face. Sending the butler flying. With that, random battles began to break out and I couldn't help but stand for a moment in awe and horror of the chaos unraveling in front of me.
People were knocking each other through the street vendors, a pot of boiling water was splashed into someone's face, a person puked their guts out, an elderly woman with a pink bonet sat knitting. Some were being pinned down and bitten, the monsters drinking their blood hungrily. Their mouths almost becoming tube like and lined with rows of teeth just before they bite. One person stood squatted low, and positioned his palms across each other, lightning started to arch between his hands- he waved them around a few times, then he turned towards a feral and clapped his hands together. A loud *BOOM* sounded as a arc of lightning slammed into the rabid person, turning them into pink mist. I gasp. The man was elderly, dressed in gym shorts and a tiki-shirt. Guy had to a master or something. I turned and began running frantically back towards my shop. I didn't have anything like that in my arsenal, and it'd be better not to get in the way- I convince myself.
After I took a few corners I noticed the rest of the surviving trio were following. "They killed Jeff, the crazy bastard killed jeff." he said in disbelief. The blanket noise of the market distract went from jovial to horrific as it faded in the distance behind us. Muted by the stone and concrete walls we passed. "Where are we going!?", the freckled women asks. "Let's get back to my shop, we got weapons there!" I said. We passed by some people and would shout at them to run, we're being attacked by crazy people. Something about our attitudes made them believe us. We found ourselves pacing heavily outside my shop with the trio made duo, their friend Jeff having been beheaded by that butler. They follow as I push through the heavy leather flaps covering the entrance to the forge.
Sparks are flying over the bulbous shoulder of my father, who sat at the forge I was at before. But at the grinding wheel, peddling causing it to spin against a blade. "Not a bad blade boy, we might make a smith of you yet." I walk up to him as the duo pushes a heavy shelf full of tools in front of the entrance. "Dad! We need to get the hell out of here, people are killing each other out there!" He turned on the stool to face me, eyes darting from between me and the duo. Recognizing the worried look on our faces, he asks; "Are we being attacked again?" I shake my head as the duo nods. "It's like that then," he says. He lifts a large warhammer from the wall of stock weapons. "They're not outsiders, or a army, it's like a sickness or something that changes people...", I still don't quite understand it myself, I can only explain it as I saw it. "Let's go, you can explain while we get ready." he says leading us through the heavy oak door that led to the house part of the shop.
We clamber through the house grabbing a go bag of sorts, life is peaceful in this town but we live in a dangerous world. Peace was a privilege, I've fled from an raided town before. Evacuations can be savage. It's not like we hadn't prepared for an enemy attack. Monstrous or otherwise. I grab my sword which seems to have been sharpened and strap it over my shoulder. Pulling the laces tight on its sheath, it shrank to grip the weapon. The duo each grab a weapon. The girl has a pitchfork and the boy snatched an average length sword.
As we scramble around the house my father just drifts through gracefully from table to table methodically, grabbing memorabilia and business ledgers into a large satchel. I grabbed the pre-packed go bags that contained travel rations and other miscellaneous supplies into mine. I talked with the duo as I did so. "We were here studying under an apothecary, staying at the tavern." one of the duo explained as we packed. "We were celebrating Selendris getting an apprenticeship..." the other chimed in. I learned their names a moment before. Selendris -a plucky redhead, and Kyle, a sheepish tanned man with dark black hair. They had their choice of any weapons, and Selendris ended up grabbing a freshly forged pitchfork. Kyle went with a generic sword over average length.
We gathered supplies and talked over our shoulders about the things we saw. The way they fought, the blood drinking, the change. My dad listened and after a few somber moments he says; "I've had to deal with raiders, but this is something out of a bards tale! We need to get out of the city..." Selendris gave a few practice jabs with her pitchfork as he talked. Kyle was peaking out the window- "I don't see anyone, should we chance it?" Kyle asked. My father nodded, and we all walked towards the front door. He says "Don't get separated and watch each others backs!", then opens the door and we head out.
We pushed out into the night. There was no immediate threat outside the shop, our quiet neighborhood had remained quiet. There is the occasional distant scream or shout. Intermittent explosions could be heard, as more heavyweight fighters like tiki-shirt have gotten involved. We stuck to the back roads and ducked through narrow alleys keeping to ourselves. Taking the longer quiet route.
We saw some horrific things along the way. One man sat outside his home with bloodied hands starring between his legs, another was hung lifelessly outside a window. Passing by a ramen shop a man stumbled backwards outside with a girl wrapped around his waist clawing at his face like a pissed cat. We had to run faster at times and jog when we had the luxury. We weren't really being chased. It seems they had their hands full with those who ran out in the open. But I held my hammer at the ready anyways.
The city was surrounded with an 8 foot cobblestone wall in most places, and the entrances seemed to have the heaviest fighting. My father ended up opting for climbing out instead of leaving through the main entrances. We turned down a dark alley with him at the forefront and the duo between us. I wasn't massive, but I was fit from years of working the forge. The two apothecaries in training didn't have much muscle at all really.
My dad raised his warhammer in the air as he ran, preparing a swing. I could see shadows ahead of people hunched over corpses. Slurping and growling. I heard him swing low into the darkness, his hammer glowing bright orange at the moment of impact. As I passed by the people he had swung at, I saw caved-in or decapitated skulls. Every now and then a grasping hand would reach out through between fences or stalls towards us but I did my best to avoid or ignore them and run. My thoughts were racing, time was slowed and no matter fast I ran it seemed painfully slow.
Turning another corner, we could see a lone elderly woman ahead with a pink bonet- standing backlit by a streetlamp in the middle of the road. A family left their home and one of them walked up beside her. "Grandma, what are you doing out here? It's cold, come inside." A teenager says taking her hand. The grandma follows for a few steps before stopping, gripping the boy's hand. The teen tried to pull away but his grandma only looked up at him, bright red eyes flaring. She raised a hand to strike him but someone jumped from the third story above.
A pair of heavy boots crush the woman's head into the cobblestone street. The teen shouts out in shock and the rest of the family runs up, "Why did you do that!?" a middle aged woman asks in a mix of despair and shock, to which the similarly aged man replies; "She struck with the intent to kill our son.". He glances warily over his shoulder towards us as we run up. My father slings his hammer over his back and puts both hands up. "The city is infected with some dark magic, we're leaving while we can. You're free to come with us but we're passing by." he said walking briskly towards and past them.
The man just eyes him cautiously as we gradually pass by single file on the opposite side of the street. The military man wore a tank top and heavy boots with baggy pants. His wife was had an athletic build too, a ponytail dangling past her shoulders. She's wearing a dress. Both of their hair seems to have greyed prematurely from stress. We were almost to the wall. I stole glances over my shoulder and saw the rest of his family riding his coattails as he went back into the house he jumped out of, a mix of teens and children. Maybe a young adult or two in the bunch.
We arrived at the base of the wall, me and my father jumped, grabbing the ledge before heaving ourselves up. Standing up on the wall we could see over the few short buildings that lined the cities perimeter. A blazing orange horizon reaches up at the dark of the night accompanied by shouts and screams in the distance. Fires were breaking out, the occasional explosion thundered. Figures leap from buildings, climbing over them. It was like predator and prey. The creatures seemed to get pleasure from death and pain.
Me and my father exchanged worried glances. "We'll run through the forest, they don't seem to be interested in leaving the city, but we'll go as far as we can. We'll rest for the night and go at a more reasonable pace from there.". I nod, "Whatever we do, we can't get cornered by these things. I'd rather be surrounded by trees than walls.". From then we talked strategy. The behavior of these things was unpredictable, some would go straight for the kill, others seemed to delight in drawing it out like a game of cat and mouse.