Frozen. That was the only word that could describe it. The room was filled with a chilled air that sent goosebumps upon every inch of Blaine’s skin. They could see their frozen breath escape their lips in a quiet gasp. Ice was beginning to christen their cheeks as their tears fell and began to frost over. Though not literally frozen, Blaine’s legs could not move. They would not move. Every step closer made the scene more and more real.

               A swirling mass of black, with bits of human skin showing in the cracks. It would almost be unrecognizable if not for the muffled cries of a once innocent boy. As the darkness began to separate from the person, two blinding lights pulled away from the face and stared directly into Blaine’s eyes. Caressing the small head of their brother, a bright smile creeped its way onto the shadow’s face.

               Expired. The old can flung to the wall with a loud thud. Broken. The already defunct flashlight crashed and had its lens shattered on the ground. Useless. This thought was less aimed towards an item, but more towards the person. Blaine sat in the abandoned convenience store surrounded by nothing but junk. Their journey for supplies had proven to be an unsuccessful one, but they couldn’t afford to give up. Not when they had worked so hard. Not when they had someone waiting for them.

               After leaving the third building once again empty-handed, they were beginning to run out of options. Their flashlight and their body were running on empty; they were being reckless. A sudden shuffling in a nearby alleyway seemed to spring their senses back into action. Blaine crouched into a dark corner of the street and kept their eyes locked on the alley. A light began to fade into existence and grow in size and strength, coming to a head at an industrial sized flashlight held by a gruff looking man in black sweatpants and a dark grey tank top. Recognizing another human was one thing, recognizing his intentions was another.

After observing the man scrounging through several trash cans, Blaine was becoming less suspicious of the individual. Their stomach, however, decided to speed up the process and make their presence aware to him. Realizing that continuing to hide was useless, Blaine revealed themself and cautiously approached.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, pulling a granola bar out from a seemingly endlessly deep pocket and tossing it towards Blaine. They considered saving it, but could not risk passing out in the middle of the night. “I haven’t seen you around, you got a name?”

“Blaine.” They said after a few moments of hesitation. “You?”

“Dante. You aren’t from the village, are you? I recognize a struggling loner when I see one.” There was a slight mixture of humor and venom in the last sentence. Blaine was trying not to take offense to it.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“No. I live alone” It was almost hard for Dante to hear over the continued rumbles of Blaine’s stomach.

“And how well is that working for you?” His hand seemed to gesture towards Blaine’s entire being to make a point. “Kid, you’d better come back with me. We can get you cleaned up and fill your belly before the sun rises.”

“No.” A million reasons swirled around in Blaine’s head as to why that would not work, but none escaped their lips. “Thank you for the food, but I should get going.”

“Hold on. I can’t let you leave like this; I don’t want your blood on my hands. Come back with me and we can at least get you some supplies.”

“And what is in it for you? There aren’t exactly a lot of charities still left.”

“We can discuss the terms on the way. Though it doesn’t look like you have many other options.” Dante turned and began to walk, going slow enough to give Blaine time to think things through. As much as they did not want to take the risk, they did not have another choice. They picked up their feet and began to match his slowly increasing pace.

“What’s the deal?” Blaine prayed it would be easy, but had a feeling that Dante was in a similar situation given his earlier dumpster diving.

“I live in a community of survivors. Our camp is discreet. Safe. And we intend to keep it that way.” A heavy sigh escaped his throat. “But we have had some issues. A couple run ins with some shadows.” Blaine was silent, beginning to feel the mix of sweat and perspiration on their face behind their cloth mask. “The women are still alive, but many of the men have gotten sick.” It was a story heard too many times before.

“Where do I come in?” They had a feeling they already knew, but was silently hoping the answer would surprise them.

 “We believe we tracked down a group of the bastards in one of the abandoned university buildings. With people either sick or caring for those who are, we need someone to get rid of the little infestation.” His eyes peered down at Blaine’s, who was starting to feel regret creeping into their desperation. “Are you in?”

“A one-person mission against a group of shadows is a near death sentence.” They started to protest, but remembered why they left in the first place. “Surely I get a bit more than a mere handful of supplies?”

“We have farms, doctors, a clean water supply, and an overall helpful community. You don’t seem interested in settling down, but do this for us and you’re welcome any time for a snack, drink, or whatever you can fit in a bag and carry home.” It was beginning to sound too good to be true, until the two of them approached a giant stadium. Its lights were illuminated and shining into the center, which could not be seen over the walls that seemed to reach halfway up the sky. Blaine imagined this is where people came to watch some sort of sports game, but they had never gotten the chance to experience it before the shadows came. Dante turned to Blaine with a smile and gestured towards a locked entrance. “Do we have a deal?”

There was a stark contrast between the darkness of the night and the brightness of the stadium lights. It reminded Blaine of hiding under their covers with a pen light trying to read books without getting caught. They had read stories about a brave hero that saves the day and rescues the damsel in distress. This story was not so cut and dry. There was no clear hero, though there were many clear villains. There was someone in distress, but the rescue mission was not that simple. There was a day that needed saving, that much was true, but there were so many days that had yet to be saved before. How could they be so sure that they would be the hero? Maybe there wasn’t a hero at all. Maybe there was just a person who was desperate to survive.

They reached into their pocket and pulled out a small pack of glow-sticks, then met eyes with Dante. “We have a deal.”