Sara's new top-floor bedroom, Lakeview Apartments, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Monday, October 14th, 2019. 06:00
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The girl woke up crying and felt no need to stop. She dragged her knees up and pulled the blanket over her head. She felt sad for all the dead people she buried, Joseph, Rudy, and the mercy-dog-killing ghost woman. Even though she was a jerk and should've told Sara Rudy needed to be put down because he ate cannibal rat meat and was becoming evil.
"Stupid hormones," she cursed between sobs.
After half a decade of experience, she knew what was happening, although that didn't change her feelings. Her body worked like clockwork and it happened thirteen times every year, and this was her sixty-first time. She felt stupid for recording every period, every time she went through this suffering.
"I wish you had a Skill to stop periods from happening," she said to the crystal fairy inside her.
She felt weak, vulnerable, and lonely. Remembering the pile of burning corpses, the old lady's ghost, the brief fun afternoon with Joseph, and Rudy's death sent her into a spiral of self-loathing. She was undeserving of Verachiel's gift.
"Please help me," she begged the fairy with a whimper.
That was not what she asked for. Yet, in for a peso, in for a mark. Or whatever currency that stupid idiom actually used. "Yeah, whatever."
Eventually, she crawled out of bed and worked all day looting Rudy's building. Moping wouldn't help her survive and she wanted to find some candy. She eventually found and ate some stale chocolate.
*
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*
A bedroom Sara didn't mind ruining, Lakeview Apartments, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Monday, October 14th, 2019. 20:00.
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Sara was having a bad time. Her period came mid-afternoon. Now she was enduring the cramps. She was irritable and just wanted to weather it out under the blankets. If her menstrual troubles were the only troubles currently ailing her, she wouldn't be so miserable. But no.
Here it came.
She heard the strange voice, an auditory hallucination fed directly to her ear nerve. It filled the girl with dread. She spent the whole day scavenging Rudy's building and now the System Core wanted to cleanse the mana channels on her skin. She had no idea what would happen but she shivered when she thought about expelling that smelly nasty black gunk again. Impurities, it called the thing.
For the umpteenth time, she reassured herself saying that Verachiel was a Seraph, a Celestial, a creature from Heaven. Obviously, it wouldn't deceive her with such contrived machinations. Whatever the System Core intended for her, it was for her own good. She wasn't fully convinced, though.
But she wished the Seraph had gone to one of the other three heinous criminals instead. Instead of this reformed juvenile felon. Maybe she deserved punishment. Sara knew it was the hormones talking but she couldn't help it. She was another person during her period.
Sara took a blanket and climbed down the stairs. The smell of dead people and blood was faint but still there. It was maybe a figment. Her nose became tainted by the cadaverine. She thought she would never stop smelling it, the thing was now ingrained in her brain. She went to the first floor and found a bed she didn't particularly care about.
Clearing her digestive system's mana channels made her poop the impurities. Now, it was her skin. She didn't want to think about what that meant but the suggestion to sleep in a bed she wouldn't mind soiling was preoccupying at least. The only silver lining she could think about was that she would be asleep while expelling the impurities. Probably sweating that stuff. Eww.
Biting her lower lip, she halted before lying on the bed. "So, run me through that again. I'm going to have moistened, smooth, pliable, soft skin for the rest of my life if we do this, right?" Sara fished for some compliment, a silver lining to all this. "No wrinkles, no blemishes. Right? Right?"
That should be reassuring and not-periody Sara would be sold. Regardless, she wasn't feeling it. Nonetheless, she prepared to sleep. Sara brushed her teeth, combed her hair, exchanged her tampon for sanitary pads, and donned very large men's pajamas she salvaged for this very occasion. She believed she would probably have to burn the mattress, the blanket, the pajamas, everything the next morning.
Maybe the whole building. Damn, what was wrong with her? Sara got a spiky cramp for an answer.
"Here goes nothing..."
She climbed into bed and rested her head on the throwaway pillow. Though she was tired of a whole day of looting apartments, sleep didn't come easily.
*
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*
A first-floor uninhabitable bedroom, Lakeview Apartments, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Tuesday, October 15th, 2019. 08:40.
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She woke up with a blinking red light shining inside her eyes. It was the fairy projecting a red screen on her optic nerve. 'Hallucinations all day long,' the groggy girl derided.
> > ALERT. Your home is being trespassed.
She shambled to the window and looked outside. It was already the morning of the next day and she felt she could eat a cow. Whole. Her body was springy and ready for action. She felt like she could run the ten miles in just a few minutes. However, both she and the bed she slept in were drenched with black tar, like those oil spills in the ocean. It was a mix of mud, phlegm, and motor oil. The stench was even worse than the cadaverine.
Her body protested by squeezing her womb. Sara bent and gripped the windowsill. Though the first day was the worst, she would still have to deal with it today, then tomorrow was just damage control. She knew some girls at school had it for a whole week. She could barely endure three days.
Sara wiped the area around her mouth before opening it. God forbid she ate some of the stuff. She did involuntarily taste it anyway.
"What the fuck is this?" She cursed. "It's even worse than before!"
She tried to scoop it from her body but her hand just slid over the stuff. "How do I take this off of me?"
The Quest window this time was an angry red, the border blinking between red and blue like a police car.
> > An Emergency Quest Was Received: "Friend, Foe, Hide&Seek, or Bath."
>
> > Objectives (complete one of the following):
>
> > a) Meet the intruders. See what their intentions are.
>
> > b) Expel the intruders from your building by any means necessary.
>
> > c) Hide until they go away. Do not be found.
>
> > d) Take a shower, and risk being peeped on.
>
> > Rewards:
>
> > 1) 2 free skill points.
>
> > Penalty for failure:
>
> > 1) None. One of the conditions above will come to pass.
>
> > Time left: 1h
Sarcasm! Goddammit, the fairy was learning. She groaned. "Seriously?"
The clock was ticking, quite literally in a corner of her vision. Great, now she had a HUD. She really wanted to take a bath but she heard them climbing the stairs. Almost panicking, Sara rushed up the stairs, spraying and trailing black gunk everywhere. Droplets of the stuff on her hair showered everywhere, leaving a trail of destruction on the hallways she arduously cleaned.
By the time she cleared the fourth set of stairs, she heard voices at the base of the stairs. Sara barged into her new apartment and locked the door behind her. It should buy her some time.
Passing by the corridor closet, she took a towel and scrubbed her head, face, and hands as free of the black gunk as possible.
'Maybe I could weaponize this shit', she thought with a frown.
Sara entered her bedroom and opened her dresser drawer, taking a handkerchief from her underwear drawer. Carefully, she took the feather and her mother's photograph and placed them in the bottom of the same drawer. She dumped the handkerchief and towel in the trash bin.
Now she just had to wait. Maybe they wouldn't find her. Maybe she should've looked behind her as she ran up the stairs. Maybe she should've thought of a better hiding spot. Maybe her brain could shut up and stop thinking shit. Now she just had to wait as her mind spun horrible scenarios.
Not for too long, though. She heard people trying to open her apartment door minutes later.
"Hey, Keynes, the black trail led to this door, but it's locked!"
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
HOLYMOTHERFUCKERSTUPIDSARAWHYDIDN'TYOUFUCKINGSTUPIDBLACKSTUFFMANACHANNELSMYASSPLEASETELLMETHISISJUSTANIGHTMARE.
"If it's a survivor, I want you to be calm about it," Keynes warned. "And keep those hands away from your holster. We don't need to escalate things."
"It's probably one of the minions," the other guy sneered.
"They are amateurs. We are trained law enforcement agents. We will clear the apartment as protocol demands, but I don't want any accidents. We are checking, but if it's a survivor, the rescue takes priority over the mission."
"Hainsworth won't like that."
"He's not the leader. Right now, for this mission, I am."
Damn, damn. Stupid Sara, she chided herself. She ran up the stairs, trailing black gunk everywhere! She basically drew an arrow pointing at herself!
"I suspected that. Look at the footprints. Whatever this black tar is, it is still wet. This door wasn't closed as there's nothing of it on the lock or handle. But there's a hand mark right here on the edge. By its size, it's a woman or a child. I know we need to clear the building, but I don't think they're with the terrorists," Keynes answered.
What? Terrorists? What the hell happened to the world?
"POLICE! Open up!" The first intruder slammed on the door, earning a hissed rebuke from Keynes. The younger man changed gears. "Ma'am, we are with the city government, we are here to help."
Sara vaguely remembered some quote from former President Ronald Reagan.
"Stop it, you're scaring the civilian," Keynes remarked. "Let me try. Ma'am, are you injured or in need of any aid?"
"Go away!" Sara finally reached the end of her wits and shouted back. She regretted not holding her cool and opening her mouth to taste the wonderful black impurities. Eww. Eww.
"Miss, we're coming in," Keynes, apparently the good cop, said.
"No! I have a gun. Trespassers will be shot. You are not welcome!" Sara threatened.
"It's a child, Keynes. DROP THE GUN, Step aside and put your hands where I can see! I'm opening the door!"
"Dude, calm down. And don't shout. The terrorists are a block away and the city is dead silent. Miss, we mean no harm!" Keynes said. "I'm a police detective."
"Then go get a warrant!" She clamored.
"I'm afraid all the judges are dead," Keynes rebutted with a chuckle.
"Then get one elected! This is still America!" Sara retorted.
"Was it you who cremated the bodies in the parking lot?" Keynes asked, changing the subject.
"Who cares? Go. Away!" She whined.
"Are you alone?"
"Get off my building! You're trespassing! Go the fuck away!" She howled.
The first cop, with the "bad" role, decided to threaten. "Miss, minors can't have guns. I'm afraid you have to surrender yours to me. Put the gun on the ground, we are entering," He immediately kicked the apartment door open.
Sara didn't have a gun. She left the one she got from Mr. Taylor's in an upstairs apartment with the bags of loot, thinking she wouldn't need it. These guys could be real police officers or they could be just pretending like the guy from a week ago. She had no way to defend herself and she was still covered in the slippery black gunk. She tried to move but her body was locked in fright and refused to move. Crouched in the gap between bed and dresser, holding her head down. She feared they would have their way with her. Murder her on the spot. All she worked last week was for nothing. She started to babble incomprehensible words and cry.
"She's in the bedroom," Jones said.
"Jesus Christ, what is this thing she's covered with?" Keynes gasped. "Miss, are you wounded? Can you talk to me? Jones, get a blanket."
"Go away! Leave me alone!" Sara feebly struggled.
"We are here to help!" Keynes said as he crouched next to her. "We are taking you to a safe place."
"Liar. My home is safe! Was safe, before you hooligans came and started to shoot each other outside! Let go of me!" She screamed and thrashed as he grabbed her wrist.
Jones handed him the nice duvet she covered the bed with, and Keynes threw it over her like he was capturing a stray animal. She liked that duvet!
Sara kicked and struggled, but the grown man was too strong. He wrapped the duvet around her and pulled the edges, causing her to tumble and strike her head against the bed frame. With her mind in full panic mode, Sara screamed in pain and indignation as she thrashed to break free of the entrapment. Black stuff started to soak the duvet.
"Help! I'm being kidnapped!" She screamed.
"We are the police! You are safe with us," Keynes said to no avail.
Hoisting his prisoner over his shoulder, Keynes carried her down the stairs. Sara didn't stop screaming and kicking. The black stuff was dripping now. As they climbed down the stairs, she kept thrashing and kicking the cop's back. She heard the wind and knew she was outside. Completely out of her mind, Sara started to scream louder. She knew they were dead. They were out in the open, right in the aim of the —
"WHO DARES TRESPASS INTO MY KINGDOM?"
— Megaphone-toting Necropolis King.
Her fear was so intense she lost control of her bladder. It leaked all over Keynes' back. Sara knew she was as good as dead. The Necropolis King was a good shot from what she witnessed. The bullets would come and kill all of them at any time.
"Why is he already back here? Wasn't Trevis' job to lure him south?" Jones asked.
With a great exertion of her will, Sara stopped bawling for a moment. "That's the Necropolis King," she said using the moniker she'd coined for the mass murderer. Her next words were cut by erratic sobs as she rambled, a bit out of herself. "See that cruiser full of bullets on the street? He's the one who murdered the officers in the cruiser along with everyone in the neighborhood. And now he's going to kill all of us. He has a freaking huge gun!"
"We know it," Jones remarked.
"Go, go! Back into the building!" Keynes shouted. Sara was almost sure he would drop her.
Keynes tried to turn but the mixture of black gunk and urine that pooled on the pavement made him slip and lose his footing. He went face-first on the pavement, and Sara fell on top of him. Still struggling, she broke free of the ruined duvet - damned cops, it was so nice - and accidentally kicked Keynes' head as she hurriedly scrambled back into the building. She wished she could be faster.
> > Quest Completed. You allocated 2 Skill points to Adroitness.
The panicking girl had no mind to quip on the fairy's timing. She rushed past a dazed Officer Jones that seemed conflicted about helping Keynes or running to safety. Sara almost didn't notice he actually wore a police uniform. Looked legit but she was already out of there, inside the building. The bullets rained upon their location seconds later. She heard Jones scream in pain and then he didn't scream anymore. Sara didn't stop as she rushed up the stairs, into her original bedroom.
Sara crawled under her old bed and cried until she lost consciousness.
*
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*
Jonesboro Rd, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Monday, October 14th, 2019. 09:10.
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Two cops struggled for survival.
"Stay with me, Jones!" Keynes grunted as he dragged the badly wounded officer behind a crashed car. He assessed Jones was probably mortally wounded and bleeding fast. He put pressure on the abdominal wound. On both sides.
"Fucking crazy girl," Jones cursed and spat blood. "He got me in the gut, Keynes. We don't even have an EMT to help. What about you?"
"If you can curse, you can put pressure on your wound. You know his M.O., he's going to sit on his building and not sending anyone after us," Keynes remarked after peeking through the car windows. "We're gonna make it. Stay with me."
"Of course not. Any wound is a death sentence without a hospital. And he seldom sends anyone a block away from the military base. He got women trapped in there and probably enough supplies and MREs to last for years. Hainsworth said the base has its own water source. A well or something."
"You're talking too much. Save your strength."
"I'm dying. If I don't talk now… Do you think the kid was on drugs?"
"Maybe, maybe not. She was clearly altered, but with that pitch covering her, it's hard to tell."
"I think she was on drugs, she probably found something heavy in the building and took it all," Jones issued his verdict. "Dude, leave me. Why aren't you running away?"
"I'm not leaving you. 'Sides, the bastard got my knee," Keynes winced and showed Jones his leg.
Jones tried to laugh and coughed more blood. "I used to be a cop just like you…"
"Fuck you, Jones. If you can quip, you're not dying," Keynes quipped.
"Likewise," Jones quipped back. "Do you think the girl made it?"
"She kicked my head and ran inside. The kid must be on her school's track and field team. Ran like lightning into the building."
"She's high on cocaine. I wish she would share some. I mean, it must be good to get so many people willing to break the law to use it, right?" Jones wiggled his eyebrows.
"Shut up, Jones. You're dying and rambling," Keynes scowled.
The detective examined Jones' wound again. The man should be dying, not cracking jokes left and right. Likewise, he knew his ruined knee should be hurting more than that. The joint was blown clear and only a few ligaments held his lower leg attached to the thigh. Something was wrong with the way their bodies behaved but he wasn't complaining. The detective waited a few minutes, then started dragging Jones north. If they could find a car, maybe that didn't have to be the end for them...
*
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Lakeview Apartments, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Tuesday, October 15th, 2019. 15:33.
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The girl woke up from some horrendous nightmare and headbutted the bed above her. Sara wanted to scream but the fear of being discovered again made her shut up. She spent a few minutes calming down, then checked her body to see if everything was okay. She decided that no, very few things were okay but at least she wasn't wounded. Bruised in some places, yes, but it seemed she'd avoided the bullets, that's what mattered. She needed a bath. Not only was she still covered in the dried black stuff but her absorbent pad felt damp and sticky from staying on too long.
Stupid periods.
Sara went to the kitchen and put tap water to heat on the stove, then raided the pantry to find something to eat. She would make several trips to fill the bathtub, it was a waste of water and gas, but she knew she deserved a hot bath. It took an inordinate amount of time and she had to scrub the black gunk off herself with buckets of cold water and soap before soaking in the tub. But as she hissed and moaned entering the water, it was well-deserved. She had even added bath salts and bubble soap to it.
Her body let the tension fade and she cried again.
With only her eyes and nose above the water, the girl pondered. Sara no longer felt safe alone in this apartment building. It was too exposed, too many people (anyone other than Sara was too many) coming and going, and the neighbors were murderers. She needed a car, a big one that could carry all her stuff. Clothes, blankets, food, and other items. A station wagon, at least. Maybe a van or a small truck. A U-Haul, if she could dream.
She wanted to meet someone that wasn't an irredeemable asshole. Even the mean girls back at school would be a refreshing sight. She needed to have a normal conversation with a normal person. The last interactions with the restless dead left behind a stressed and skittish Sara.
The water was already cold when she climbed out of the bath. Shivering, Sara dried herself, took care of her hair, and put on dark clothes to reflect her mood. The weather felt oddly warm and she wondered if it had something to do with all the stuff that fell on the planet. Hell had rivers of magma, she recalled.
Sara sat by the window facing the parking lot behind the building. A chain-link fence separated her from the backyard of the suburban houses beyond, a row of tall trees hiding most from her view. She could see a few roofs popping between the green here and there. The girl plotted her escape route. Maybe she should go and loot those houses. They must have better things than the people in the cramped cheap apartment building. She was sure the flimsy wooden walls wouldn't stop the stupid bullets.
Yes, she should leave this place. But it was her home, where her supplies were stashed. She had no idea what to do. It wouldn't hurt to be ready to leave. While she felt bad for wishing that, the two cops probably died. If they didn't, her secret wasn't safe. They would come back for her, or the damned Necropolis King would send someone. He surely saw her entering the building. Either way, she couldn't stay that close to danger.
She had to go.
She didn't want to go.
She wanted to run away.
She wanted they would leave her alone.
Stupid Necropolis King. What good it was to rule over the dead? Most of them were assholes anyway. Not Joseph and the kind old lady, but they didn't count.
But a week passed and the Necropolis King hadn't sent anyone. She was sure he heard her a few times already. Maybe he even saw the pyre as the cops did. What was she thinking when she burned the dead? Sara decided to stay in the building but to prepare to leave.
First, she had to finish looting Rudy's building.
After checking the sun's position, she estimated she had around two hours of sunlight left. She checked the Jonesboro side for movement and noticed that the two cops must've survived. Differently from everyone else that died to the Necropolis King, their bodies weren't on the street anymore. Just a trail of blood they shed. Good riddance to them and stop caring, she said to the small portion of her heart that was glad they didn't die.
She gathered some bags and went across to the next stupid five-over-one. Stupid loot. Stupid people. Stupid menstrual blood. What would she do if she ran out of feminine sanitary products? Her mind was in a daze.
The denizens of the other building were a bit better off than those in Lakeview Apartments. Their building had an underground garage, with fancier cars, the apartments had better decorations, and they had more stuff overall. She found a treadmill, gym equipment, a replica katana so dull it was incapable of cutting a custard, a collection of X-men comics dating all the way back to the eighties, a lot of food in the pantries, jewelry, and a small fortune in cash. She also found guns and ammunition and made a point to keep a pistol on her waist at all times from now on.
Part of her still wanted to cry. Though her periods were heavier on the first day, she still felt emotional. Survivor Sara had to be a tough-as-nails bad girl, she decided. Dangerous, cold, uncaring, insensitive, and a dark brooding lone wolf. She looked at the comics. She should be like Wolverine. Snikt, snikt, bub. I take no shit home. I ooze shit. She shook her head. Her period was making her moody. Yes, that was the excuse... explanation she would go with.
She filled several duffel bags with clothes, blankets, clean bedsheets, and towels. Without a steady supply of water, doing laundry was a waste. After giving it some thought, she also filled a bag with the jewels and cash. Maybe the world outside wasn't as bad as Forest Park.
She knew it wasn't the case but couldn't help her wishful thinking. The rest of the world was fucked by the meteors.
*
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Rooftop hatch, Lakeview Apartments, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Tuesday, October 15th, 2019. 23:09.
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The very stressful day was over and she once more intended to climb on the roof to stargaze. But as she carefully lifted the service trapdoor, she noticed a searchlight coming from the "Necropolis King Castle", as she dubbed the office building. It was a bright stupid light that scanned all of the neighborhood, probably a countermeasure to the attacking survivors, including those two cops. She kept just a crack open and almost ran away when the light passed right over her building.
Things were escalating. The incursions by survivors in the neighborhood threatened the balance of power in the dead city. In Sara's mind, the Necropolis King became the eye of Sauron, casting his gaze as far as it would go, claiming everything under its view as their territory.
The girl waited for the light to point as far away as it went, then slowly lowered the lid and withdrew to her bedroom. She would miss that duvet. Even though the night was at comfortable sixty-something degrees, she still piled several blankets on the bed and hid underneath. She went to sleep praying nobody would find her.