Borders of Canada and the USA are one of the many corners of the surviving human forces. It is also one of the few places where people live and manage to prosper on land.

However, there are no villages, cities, or towns. Instead, there are places considered a camp. They are easy to manage and nice to get rid of. It is the ordinary kind that is an attempt by humanity to keep on living. People in vast numbers are, after all, like ants, stronger but more easily butchered. That is not important, as survivors keep on living. Dark Age is still a long way from obliterating the USA, and the reach of Canada is a tad far off.

This time around, in the 22nd century, is a mark of the disaster that shaped the planet Earth as a whole. 100 years ago was the start of the apocalypse. Through that time, as the Dark age kept on rising, humans remained going, as if the matter of the apocalypse doesn't matter. The monsters are hunting, eating, and enjoying themselves in the horrors that are such attempts to survive against their hunts.

To no avail, a disaster of hordes of Dark beings strikes a particular camp that is on the outskirts of the USA and Canadian borders. There aren't too many of them, so with too little chance to change the status quo, a disaster strikes one from time to time.

“William… William! Run. Hide. Mother will be safe… you need to trust me.” a hurried and nervous voice says to one scared, and bloodied child.

A boy is left between the buildings in no particular street. Crying in anguish and sadness at the leaving hand of his mother, he can't stop her hands even if he wishes. He is young, too young to understand too little. At 5 years old, he always has a warm hand around him. Security, as well as a smile of warmth, which always follows behind.

Now, he could hear the screaming and a litter of high-pitched noise of what appeared to be an annoyance and frightening experience to him. His mother long disappears, as he can't see her. She is gone, and his sight of anything leaves him in a panic amidst this noise.

It is barely the middle of the day, yet everything went to darkness for half an hour already. William snuggles himself into a corner of some walls, putting his hands across his ears, but it helps little, if any.

All of a sudden, amidst many screams and clutter of noises, a group of people comes around the corner of these buildings. William isn't one to notice them, as he can't hear, or he chose not to hear anything. Some of them run even with bloody holes in their chests, but not too deep to affect their lives. Although they still drip and leave a bloody path behind their panic.

After all, they are running for their lives, knowing what is around this place, and the corners of the street. They notice a tight intersection where they could escape to, so they go there, hoping to find shelter and hope. It could be a protection and safety for some time, which are probably in their mind as they discover this spot. Stumbling to each other, they hide behind the trashcans, which are bigger than them, which is perfect for a hiding place.

Again, their naivety leads to a surprising sight that none of them expects. A boy holds his eyes shut, while his hands protect his ears. He snuggles himself in the corner, a small distance away from them. There is something else about him, though. Within his right forearm, there is a crimson colorful gem. His bloodied and tattered shirt and trousers on himself make him rather pathetic looking, but those people are nothing better.

He is yet to notice this group of people not so far away, but he is in no state of care, or mental fortitude for that.

Silence. He wants a silence and warm hand to hold.

One man from the group points to the boy with his hand.

“L-look! That is a fucking Walker!” He tries to shout, but all that comes is nothing but inconvenient words.

Too bad for him, as this mistake costs him his life. A tendril flickers from the opening of this alleyway, appearing fast and steady.

It takes just a moment until it goes noticed by the man who sees no pointed hand. It disappears with the tendril, or it is obliterated regardless of that flick. Shock? He has no time for that, as the pain and utmost fright grow in his mind. The messed-up flesh that is left around his elbow doesn't leave his eyes.

Screaming in panic, the whole group panics too and forces the man to be quiet, since it's a matter of life and death.

Nonetheless, it is too late to even try. Even if they kill him right here, right now, and the tendril disappears. Each of those people holds no point in life since that hand disappeared too fast, and maybe... more hands will soon follow.

Bitting their lips, clutching their fists and the man's mouth, the group notices drops of blood starting to rain down. They drop to their faces, bodies, and around them as they struggle with the handless man. Silent, and with utmost horror, the man with the remaining hand looks up within the grip of the other 4 people around him.

Carnijaw…

He thought in a continuation time of his horror. A monster with horrific features of a massive head and 4 limbs resembling human arms is standing on top of a building. Its head protrudes from its body and looks down about 20 feet above them. Multiple dark veiny eyes look at the group as if the prey just arrived. Its jaw almost seems smiling with countless sharp teeth within its wide jaw.

Tendrils are around its whole body, but mostly it's back. They flicker in a moment, and a gushing motion slices the group from the handless man. He falls to the middle of the alley, bathed in crimson blood. Panicking, he fled. Away? He doesn't want to see the flying heads of those people, and the crunching sounds of human bones as they become food.

He is soon 30 feet away from the corner of the alley.

Then 20, and 13 feet… 13 feet.. 13 feet? “Why is it so far?” he asks himself, as he stops in his movements.

He tries to move his legs, as they are his mean of running, but they aren't there where they are supposed to be. Where did they go? He doesn't know. There are only studs under his knees that move puddles of blood underneath. He no longer feels pain as his vision suddenly turns. Making a circle, he flew up, and then down to the ground. The head falls from the headless man who couldn't even run but still pleasure himself, with his other hand.

Not like he needs to even consider it any longer since his head is no longer his own and so is his free will.

Carnijaw from above almost smirks if it could even be called that. It looks down on those remaining people, who scream in terror as some of their limbs were gone from their bodies only a few moments ago. In the fear of death, the adrenalin remains, so they haven't died yet. Screaming to their heart's content is all they could do, while a few even try to flee, but to no avail.

It matters nothing to the Dark being, which consumes the living. Its jaw-like strike from its mouth grabs one man, who in a moment, disappears from the street into its mouth.

2nd soon follows in a minute, then the 3rd sometime later. Much to anyone's surprise, the last one already bled to death, since this person shoves in a deadly expression and unyielding tone, a knife into his own neck. He rather died than watch any more of the sight above. With all those crunching noises, he felt horrified that it lifted any sense of life from his mind.

So he chose the easy round, so at least he couldn't watch that monster grab him and quench its thirst with his body. More crunching sounds follow. The flow of blood, bits of flesh, and bones remain on the ground, as some of these things can't be processed by the Carnijaw. At least it seems like it. Perhaps it doesn't like to eat them, so it spits some of that to the ground, or into trashcans that are conveniently placed close.

15 minutes pass, while William remains in the same position, even when some of the blood ends on himself. It is a case of ignorance, fear, and confidence that the mother will come back? He is unsure and ignorant. Not like he needs to be sure, since she was always there for him.

Why did she leave me? He wonders for like the hundredth time, while his hands around his ears turn numb from his forceful and tight grip. He remembers there were situations like this in the past. Few, but they were scary and uncomfortable moments in his life. There were screams and terror in those moments, but not... this. It holds the same clutter, and darkness in the middle of the day, yet his mother never left him before.

She has been always there for him. Either fleeting for his safety, and comforting him from the safety of some building, or from far away, so any scream could be always inaudible to him.

Not this time, mommy... he guesses, not accepting the reality.

Unwillingly, he realizes that the scream he heard the cleanest, disappeared. Opening his eyes, he is watching his surroundings with a child's face of naivety. Blood and gore are all around him, with no resemblance to humans.

The Carnijaw spares not even the body of a man in the alley since it is food, prey, or whatever it assumes.

The boy calmly watches, with a stone-like posture. He freezes since he had seen similar sights one time, but this is... stranger. He remembers that this crimson is unlike what is within his hand. This is human, in front of me, or used to be one. He thought as he watches what appears to be a gore of flesh around a skull. There is even an eye mixed there, with a human jaw that is only in one joint.

Turning his face around, he knows this mess wasn't here when he came here a moment ago. Although he was uncertain about it since the surroundings are hard to memorize for him because of the shock and fear.

“M-mom?” he asks, expecting some answer and the face of his mother.

No answer came, but a tendril drops from the sky above and floats close to his face.

Dark, red, black, dark red, and other kinds of colors that he learned about are within the tip of this tendril, which almost resembles a tightly shut fist, but smaller, firmer, almost like a spearhead.

It opens up to 4 parts, grabbing his face. It is a success as if it's something expectant for a 5-year-old to defend against it.

Struggling? He fails.

Crying? He couldn't because he is too frightened as he lost his voice.

William couldn't tell the height or time. Only a movement of going up, and a force around his panicky eyes, observe the grumbling and chewing of a creature 2 feet between the openings of this 4-faced tip of the tendril.

Still processing the meat is important after all, so the Carnijaw waits until it ends. Although small, this boy is prey too. It knows it.

This prey's struggles are futile since it's so little. There is no strength, and any tries could only remain in futility. Not even enough… far from being called even a try. Even adults are dead against this monster, much less a child with no independence.

It is normal at today's age, but the boy doesn't know that a monster of quite an ordeal is before him. He is too little. His mother always said to wait for something, so he always waited, or not at all, since he forgot it soon after she told him about it. Memories of children are never something concrete or easy to rely on. That is common sense.

Carnijaw, completely unbothered by the struggles of the boy, flips its tendrils around its back, and limbs right towards the boy. Smooching it, hugging him, it misses a deadly attack on purpose in a flick of a deadly tendril towards the head. It senses something within the boy that intrigues it.

Like a sunflower that is calling for the Sun.

All of a sudden, a crimson light penetrates the tendrils around William's body. Not destroying it, but disintegrating it into tiny particles until it turns to dust in a few moments. The monster howls in terror and anger, as the boy mindlessly falls to blood and gore from about 20 feet of height.

Fortune within misfortune, his fall is better because of the gore and guts that remain in a small radius, which is his landing position. Right there upon the landing, he looks around as the crimson light points right to his face. It comes from his hand, but he has no time to worry about it, as he knows the monster is right above him.

Run?

Hide?

Two words from his mother jolt his mind and he does the first since it is the first one that comes to his mind. It is a rather easy and simple solution to his undecided heart or his experience. Stumbling to the ground, with some organ or whatnot on the way, he runs. Runs like he never had in his life.

Just as he moves about a dozen feet towards the end of this alleyway, the monster's jaw, the real jaw, munched half the trashcans, concrete, organs, and gore into its enlarged mouth. Enraged, Carnijaw cries in pain, frustration, and absolute anger toward this boy.

Stomping rapidly, it almost thinks it ate the boy, but soon, it realizes its mistake.

William turns around the alleyway, before disappearing into the streets of this camp. More blood, tendrils, screams, and munching sounds follow within the many streets that are nothing but destruction and chaos.

Now, he runs across one that used to be a market. A place where he used to walk with his mother to get food and vegetables. Even talking to strangers was occasional activity, but it was rare.

Before his feet, and around him, there are continuous pools of blood, heads, headless corpses, and people's faces. Thuds and screams of people running around are about right to expect from this chaos, as many kinds of monsters are chasing them. Some are small, almost like a dog or wolf. Others are big, like some kind of horse that is a weird and sinister mixture between a monster and a regular horse.

William doesn't see much of this, as he wants to continue with the run and that's it. His mind reaches its limits and runs to a spiritual wall. An unsystematic and basic premise where thoughts become mushy and instincts become stronger than personality or common sense. He runs beyond the blood, and headless corpses and the surrounding horror could only be left in the corner of his vision. His blank mind isn't looking for others, but a safety, or the only face he wants to see at the moment. A face of his mother.

Running through buildings, his thoughts assume the safety within them but to no avail, as tendrils shoot around him once again.

They disintegrate into the dust, as something shoots from his right forearm once again. It may be the last bit of the light from his forearm, but he doesn't even realize that something saved him just now.

Not like he knows or cares.

“Run... Run… Hide... William” reverberates within his mind.

It keeps fueling his instincts, but to minor effects, since a 5-year-old is a 5-year-old. Such a kid couldn't run over the entire camp for the possible... unrealistic safety. There may be some safety a few streets away. Maybe.

Running, panting, he stops in the suburbs of the camp after 10 minutes of seeing the pain in his chest. A large open space is there as a second assembly of the camp’s square. Rows of dead bodies are everywhere. Some with military equipment, weapons, pistols, and even shotguns lay aside their lifeless bodies.

Nothing here attracts William’s attention. He still wants to run, but he could only continue slower, because he clutches his chest with his left hand, and can't help but seep for some air.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't be given a chance, since Carnijaw from before will never stop going after its prey. It wants to follow, kill the prey, and avenge its tendrils with a prided hunt.

Screaming, howling with the saliva of red and dark coming from its big open mouth, it looks enraged and ready to kill whatever is in its path. The jaw is littered with sharp teeth that resemble nothing but an utter monster. It stomps forwards with 4 human arms, which is about the only type of movement it has. It's quite clunky, but considering its size, it is fast, and both pairs of limbs are muscular and bigger than the main body.

Big is a simple term, with at least 10 feet in length and thickness like a regular human, they are anything but monstrous. Its body may be smaller than that, with nothing but a massive jawed head, part of the upper body, and many kinds of tendrils behind its back that William can notice.

He should have not turned his head just now. He regrets it straight away as the proper vision of that monster will hunt him for a long time. With the monster coming closer, one could either hide or run.

The first choice is bad in this case since William knows it has seen him. The monster will follow... run... run. He guesses the obvious choice, but it's more of the lack of a hiding spot and inability to overcome the speed of this Carnijaw.

Run it is, for now.

William's mind momentarily flashes with some idea, as he fleets in a random direction. He is in this open square so he recognizes it from some past occasion and celebration with his mother and the rest of this camp. There is a bunker in some part of this place, so he quickly glances around, trying to see the direction toward the safety of the bigger buildings that are intact and safe against the Dark. He finds them at a close distance from him, so he involuntarily does something that not even his mother taught him.

Seeking refuge with enough protection. Yet, he does not know such a basic rule of survival. It came to his mind at a chance of time. His run, what could only be called an instinct of a kid’s mind, is another source of his little power, and the reason he is even alive.

Halfway through the camp's square, he stumbles over something and falls with his chin against the ground. Dizziness and pain fill his mind with unnatural tiredness, and even some blood oozes from his chin and nose.

He looks around in fear and daze. Noticing a hand quenching his feet, he looks at it in confusion.

It is a dying soldier with barely any conscious feelings who mumbles something with a gouged eye, and half of his jaw missing. Yet, still alive, he grabs Wiliam in a fleeting moment to save his own life, which can't even be saved.

William doesn't understand what he wants, or perhaps this too is a monster since he stops him from running from another monster. He doesn't know that, but the grip of this man is weak. Slipping away from his grab is very easy, so he returns to his run.

That is good since this time spent in this position has been bad news because Carnijaw is getting closer.

The gasping man unwillingly places his hand towards fleeting William, before his head explodes with a tendril coming out of his forehead. It misses its true prey, so it continues with its pursuit. One moment is all it takes, as a long tendril wraps around William's feet, who assumes it to be another dying man. Alas, no, not this time around.

It is a real monster this time.

Carnijaw snorts in pleasure, charging with satisfaction on its face. He is close to his prey. 30 feet, to be exact.

William feels nothing in particular. He stops in his track, and he can't get this tendril away from his leg. He feels helpless, as tiredness and a strange feeling of acceptance is appearing in his mind. There is at least no screaming on his side since he hates loud things.

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

Moment.

Another moment.

He stands there, with unknown thoughts and a blank mind. His back is facing the monster, as he was running from him, so it makes sense to not see its attacks. A flash of wind and something else that he couldn't care about sounded behind his back. Only the sounds. Nothing he could see or tell.

No attack comes his way and even the tendril around its leg seems to lose some strength. It slides off as if it is no longer so tough and tight. Noticing this, William kicks the tendril away, before walking forth. Fearing the monster's comeback, he won't turn around to make sure that the monster wouldn't appear behind him ever again.

“It works…. The monster is not coming...” He mumbles to himself with the last bit of strength.

Not far from his initial position is Carnijaw's lifeless body, laying there with lifeless limbs around its jaw. About 10 feet away from William's previous position, it was very close to him indeed, but not enough. Embodied within its head is a large crimson spear, made of the unknown, but radiating crimson matter.

In a moment, it appeared, before disappearing in a blink of an eye from the corpse of a Carnijaw. It flew away on its own, while William was oblivious to the fact that some savior had saved his life.

However, that was nothing that William cared for since he reaches the building complex made of thick cement walls. It has almost no windows, but tiny vents for air, and some ventilating shafts with tiny little round windows. Banging on the doors to open up, he gets no response within minutes of his tries. More minutes pass with nothing. He even forgets the issue of the monster behind his back, so William goes around the building complex. There he goes, goes, and more blood follows. His gaze only faces forwards, as if the blood is a normal thing to see. It's called being Ignorant… while going forward isn't a bad thing.

He isn't a weak-minded, nor a strong-willed boy. He is just a kid, who goes by life within the 22nd century. Nothing strange, nothing worth mentioning apart from Emblem in his body.

Suddenly, this massive building blows up into a huge concrete mess. Something massive forces its way into it, out of it, or through it. The walls and safety of this bunker disappear to nothingness, and clutter of destruction soon follows. William hates seeing this, or even feeling this helpless sight, but this clutter goes in his direction. Not the monster the size of 4 stories tall building, but a wall that borrows to his tired body. A blank and tired look overtakes his mind, as sudden force comes to a sudden halt.

Unknown time passes as he wakes up in the darkness, finding himself underneath the debris of the former bunker. Stone, wood, and whatnot are around him. He has trouble waking up, even though his mind feels restless, and his body even worse. Yet he isn't alone.

“You… awake?” a crying voice of a boy around his age sounds from his proximity.

“Wh… a. You? Where… Mother?” William utters his few words of interest and hope. He is so close to crying, and that's one of the few things that he hates to do.

“Death… everyone is dead,” a crying voice utters while crying even more.

“No… no cry!” William shouts in an unnatural voice of anger that comes like a sudden storm.

A crimson light penetrates the utmost darkness, coming from William and a little gem within his tattered sleeve before disappearing from it too. The insides of the debris come into the view for two pairs of eyes.

“Oh?” Both boys around the same age blurt out.

“M-my name is Dann…” the slightly less crying boy says while crouching down within this barely tall space for a kid to be in. They are lost, or most positively, kept under the debris.

“My name is William… W-what is that noise?” William says and asks as he gets on his feet. Pain, bruises, cuts, and maybe even broken bones are among his injuries. Although, those aren't things that are within William’s worries.

Some thuds follow like an unending streak… Some voices or whatnot are tangible in his mind, or ears too.

Crimson light flew from his arm, dropping from his arm as he tries to move around.

William notices it, as the light seems kind of magical. He is equally glancing at it like Dann, who at least stopped crying already from his earlier surprising shout.

He could see nothing but stones and debris around the crimson-colored surroundings, but this thing on the ground is familiar. A very familiar thing to him. There is also a boy, in similar shoes as himself. He crawls to his side, and they both watch the crimson lighting particles surrounding the special object that is the Emblem. The light from the particles or the Emblem itself makes everything shine in mysterious luster. It calms both of them, even though it doesn't remind them of anything calm. After all, it is crimson, the color of blood.

“T-there are people… injured under, or eaten up by the monsters in the bunker. They keep banging… shouting... never-ending…” Dann utters an inaudible cry, answering William's previous words.

And he is right.

It keeps going until it stops, and then it starts again.

William hates this.