Chapter 10

It was eerily silent for one singular eternal second. So much so that William let go of the tendril.

Closing his eyes, he waited with his back facing the monster.

Moment.

Another moment.

He knelt there, full of unknown thoughts and a blank mind, while even his Emblem accepted its end. The storm swirled inside the Emblem to no avail. William’s back faced his nightmare; it made sense to not see its coming.

Then, a loud crash and flashes of wind, followed by something else that he couldn't care about, rang behind his back. Only the sounds and wind had come; nothing he could see.

No attack arrived. No voice chimed to his head either, but a little buzzing returned like moans. The tendril around his leg lost its strength. It slid off as if it was no longer so tough and tight.

Noticing it, William kicked it away, before walking forth, limping as his right arm strained his side. Fearing the monster's comeback, he decided to not turn around just in case it would come back. That should get the job done. He should make sure that the monster wouldn't appear behind him ever again.

“It works…. The monster is not coming.” William mumbled to himself with the last bit of strength, going slowly to the edge of the square.

Not far from his initial position was Carnijaw's lifeless body, forced deep into the square. Laying there, its lifeless limbs convulsed and twitched, and it was about ten feet away from William's previous position. It could've killed him with its tendrils but didn't.

Unfortunately, it didn't eat with them, yet it could snatch him but didn’t. Frankly, it turned stupid when it wanted to finish William with its jaw. So much for the great Berserk Dark Aspect.

It was very close indeed. Forced into its head was a large crimson spear, helping William for the second time. Made of unknown, but radiating crimson energy, it killed this Carnijaw before turning its head into a sizzling mash of flesh, leaving limbs broken but intact. The spear obliterated it in an instant, glinting and looking half the Carnijaw's size.

Frankly, Carnijaw was in pieces the moment the spear cut into it in a flash of crimson light.

After a few moments, the spear flew away, disappearing in a blink to a not-so-distant battle that was shaking the whole camp from the depths of the Dark Fog.

William was oblivious to the fact that some savior had saved his life, nor how this camp was soaked in blood and tremors. It was nothing worth mentioning; he had so much satisfaction upon realizing that no monsters came to him when he wasn't looking at them.

Soon, he reached the building complex made of thick walls and fewer corpses around it. That could mean something good, he thought. There were no windows, so it looked more like a series of large slabs of rocks and cement added together. There were tiny little vents for air, looking like tubes, or ventilating shafts.

Banging on the doors ended up fruitless. He got no response, nor a tone. Within a few minutes of his tries, he figured bunkers were likely closed, but why?

Weren't dangers for bunkers? His mother told it, or did his father say it first?

More minutes passed with him banging on various walls of this bunker. He even forgot the issue of potential monsters behind his back, but he knew that if he didn't look, nothing would come. So William ensured this by being front-faced against the walls. He went around the building complex, looking for a way in.

Expectedly, more blood followed the sides, with even some Darks munching some corpses around like hungry beasts and... people. Corrupted humans looked like straight-up nightmares. They were far too busy caring for their meal or fighting each other than to look at William. Once again, he hadn't seen them, so he had no idea that some glanced at him but considered their meal their priority, or that he was small and unworthy of their tries.

His current shallow Emblem probably helped with that, but it was still notable with movement, red light, and thin glint. The skin around it was pushed to its limits, shivered, and darker, and veins seemed broken like skin, vessels, and bones.

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But William moved the arm just fine, which was curious, yet welcomed. Even if every movement hurt, it wasn't alone. Everything hurt today.

His eyes faced the walls, and even if he had seen some bloody imprints, it was probably a work of art. Being ignorant while going forward wasn't a bad thing. His mother would praise him for such an idea, William believed.

He wasn't a weak-minded, nor a strong-willed boy. He was just a child growing up in this lost world, doing his best because of his parents. He still went through hundreds of corpses in the past minutes, stepped on them, bathed in them, or seen them, but what was dead wouldn't eat him, or hurt him.

The apocalypse was nasty when it hit like it, but what did it even matter? It had been a century already, and even when new births kept humans going, some struggle was inevitable. It was nothing strange, nothing worth mentioning from the broader perspective. In fact, what was it like at the start, when there were billions of human lives? Now, how many were left? Millions? The core living places for humanity were long turned obsolete, yet the planet kept going as if it didn't care.

Perhaps it was even more lively than before, although it was a matter of perspective how one looked at Darks, nature, Walkers, and their struggles.

Apart from Emblem in William's body, he might be considered a normal boy. The Emblem was his token for the future. A chance. His birth points to one peculiar fate. Calling it fate was something many regular people thought, and some even considered Walkers an evolution of the human race.

But then, what were Darks if not that as well?

It was curious, yet unfair to most people Outside. In fact, many regular people didn't think that being a Walker was all that great. They didn't envy such heavy responsibility, nor did they want to face Darks and whatever those Fogs were about. There was no other choice for Walkers.

Regular people, survivors, had many other choices. They could have jobs to work for Walkers, around settlements, or for themselves. Of course, with Darks around many corners of this world, it was rather hard and never that bright.

Darks focused on Walkers much more when Rifts opened, or Incursion happened, or in a simple meeting Outside.

People fought with weapons, though running away sounded even better. They had plans for that thanks to history, and this camp was no different. Alas, this Incursion turned plans to shit, and this camp to pieces.

Now, obvious to the barren square at the outskirts of this camp, which was long considered unfit for attacking or defending, let alone fleeing, William found some rare peace.

No Dark gave him any regard, as most of them were already gone to new locations. He looked for ten minutes for something. In a barren place, devoid of living beings, William didn't know that. It was a good choice if there was nothing for Darks, even if it meant going through some nasty streets.

He was tired of giving attention to something he didn't want to hear or think about.

As he moved and stared blankly for survival, looking for a way into the bunkers, suddenly, this massive building beside him blew up into a huge concrete mess and rocky debris, stumbling him dozens of feet away. It was sudden and without heat or steps beforehand, causing huge tremors to shake at once. Big rocks went for his head but they either turned to halves or disintegrated when he pushed his arms before his head. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t see what happened.

Something massive forced its way into the bunkers, forcing the rest of the walls to crack and waver. These bunkers were gone, exposed to pieces like a wave of a hand over a house made of cards.

William couldn't see what happened, or what caused it, but the walls and safety of this bunker became a wave that was coming at him, rather than a safety. A clutter of destruction soon followed, and William faced crushing boulders. Behind them, dark round energy struggled, looking like flames exposed to green poison, or a spiraling massive cocoon size of a building. Still, the debris flew onward, while William was too tired to move or act against this wave of destruction. Soon, large noises swallowed him and his mind, and William was unable to notice how the darkness and flash of redness moved, one snatching him away.

William didn't like that noise. It felt like a moon went against him.

He was unable to think or feel. He wasn't helpless; he just quenched his hands, unaware that he couldn't move his body. Thinking of running away was just an afterthought when he lost his sight.

Instincts were a frightening thing. Not the monsters the size of a four-story building, or an attack of its size that killed it. The monster became pieces of flesh the size of stalls, and the gobbled-up energy exploded, leaving walls and buildings in pieces. Wind and debris blew into the wind, and destruction settled in a pile of dust and lingering Dark Fog.

Blank and tired, William lost consciousness after that force slammed into him, escaping him, or itself.

***

Unknown time passed. William shed dreams and felt sorry for his hands. He shouldn't have dreamed of his mother's hand. It made him shiver and sad. But he couldn't sleep forever, for the memories and the explosions moved him next. He saw how that outbreak broke that building to pieces. It was almost impressive and he watched it all.

He woke up in the darkness, shivering, bleeding, and not knowing where he was. He was unaware he was underneath the debris of the former bunkers. Stone, pieces of concrete, and rocks surrounded him, acting as a safe zone because there was no way out or in.

He had trouble waking up, let alone moving. But for some reason, his mind felt restless as if his injuries weren't that small, or something hot kept his mind aflame. He couldn't see, though he felt heat and something flowing. Something felt very wrong. It was even worse when the noises came back.

Then, the voice. Was it the annoying one, or the one that was so much worse?

He quickly realized it was neither; it was a crying voice.

“You… awake?” a crying boy around his age asked, coming from a proximity of this tight space. He sat there, weeping as someone who shared a similar fate as William.