There were more noises in the fog. Micah kept moving, because if he didn't, he was going to sit down and just stop moving completely, and he wasn't ready for that. There seemed to be some noises that sounded more like regular infected, too, and those noises he steered away from. When a wall loomed up out of the fog, he turned to follow it along its length, figuring that it'd be broken not far off, or he'd find the corner of the building.
Strangely, the wall kept going, intact and unusually long. When he finally reached a corner, he turned and followed the wall further, curious now. What kind of place was this? The fog seemed to be thinning, too, and he could see flickers of motion that looked a lot like the zombies he knew. He didn't know if that was better or worse than the weird happenings in the thick strange fog. He knew how to react to this kind of zombie, but the weird things in the fog hadn't attacked him, either. He almost wanted to get attacked. His irritation with the world was rising again, simmering under his skin, and he almost itched with it. He found himself absently scratching at his arm, and made himself stop.
The wall abruptly gave way to a pair of rusted metal gates, elaborate and tall, and he realized that he'd been following a fence, not a wall. The fog seemed thinner inside the grounds of -- of whatever this place was, and he looked back at the layered, weird fog, then back inside, and shoved one side of the gates open just far enough to squeeze through. The metal squealed ominously, and as he shoved it back into place, he grumbled, "Yeah, okay, ********' Silent Hill s**t."
He turned to see where he'd ended up, and stopped in his tracks as he realized that this building looked like some kind of old hospital or asylum. A shiver of fear ran down his spine like cold insect feet, and he growled aloud, letting his anger overwhelm the fear, making it into anger at himself for being so spooked by buildings. "Silent Hill s**t," he repeated to himself sarcastically, and started to walk a wide circle around the grounds, looking for a good spot to hole up for the night. He didn't want to go inside, not after he'd let himself get trapped inside the casino like that.
Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2015 8:48 pm
In a small courtyard around the side of one of the buildings, Micah found a small group of people gathered around a fire. The fire hadn't attracted any infected, and Micah hadn't seen any infected since passing through the gates of the hospital. That didn't mean there weren't any, but it did mean that it was slightly less risky. He approached cautiously, calling out, "Hello?"
None of the figures responded, staring into the fire as though mesmerized. Micah slowed. Was this like the figures in the fog? Were they really there? But he could see that they were breathing and blinking. He sat down on a pile of flagstones, looking sideways at the nearest person. She was thin, almost gaunt, with long black hair that hung limply around her face and down her back. She was silent for long moments, then said, barely above a whisper, "She lied."
"Uh - who?" Micah asked.
"She lied," the girl muttered again, either not hearing Micah or ignoring him.
"She lied? Who lied?" he tried again.
The girl began to sway slowly from side to side. "She lied," she whispered, her voice dropping so low that it was almost inaudible above the crackle of the fire.
"Okay," Micah said uneasily. He wasn't going to get any further information out of her. Wherever the girl was, it wasn't all here.
Micah turned to the person on the other side of him. The old man wore a fishing vest, and he was losing his hair, thin grey and brown strands straggling across an expanse of pale skin. He looked away from the fire long enough to meet Micah's eyes. "I was a fisherman," he said.
It was a relief to have someone actually talking to him. "Yeah? I was in construction," Micah answered, relaxing a little bit.
"Didn't catch no fish though." The man turned his head slowly back to look into the fire. "Dead bodies," he mused. "Caught a lotta dead bodies."
"Uh," Micah said, and couldn't think of anything else to say, so he closed his mouth with a snap. This had gone from almost comforting to real freaky real fast.
"Pulled up my neighbor Jack with my hook first," the man said, and rubbed his chin, as calm as though he was telling fish stories. "Then my other neighbor, Adam. Got him right through the cheek with my hook. The skin gets all pale when they stay underwater a while, you know. Kinda greenish. Puffy."
Micah stayed silent. He hadn't known that, but he wasn't about to say anything that the fisherman might take as encouragement to continue. The man didn't seem to need any, though. He went on, staring thoughtfully into the fire, "Coupla days later, got the kid from across the street. Didn't hook in real well. Almost lost her. Had to get my net out. 'Course, she was kinda fallin' apart. All soft and raggedy, where she still had meat on her."
"What the hell," Micah mumbled.
The man took no notice. "Got my wife, then. Anna. Real sweet girl. Pulled her up, hook right through her belly. All puffed up, eyes gone. Fish eat 'em out, you know. Heh heh. Didn't never catch none of those. Just sweet ol' Anna. Sweet enough to eat all up. Didn't smell no good when I fished her out though. Nuh uh. Smelled like low tide, like rotten fish. Guess that ain't much different. Heh heh. Shoulda thrown her back, long ago, but oh, I kept her. Kept her when I caught her."
Micah swallowed back the sour taste that had risen in the back of his throat. "Jesus Christ," he whispered, and stood up, backing away and sidling slowly toward the other side of the fire, circling around the black-haired girl, who still took no notice of him or of the fisherman.
"Kept her when I caught her. Didn't get no prize for that," the fisherman muttered, staring into the fire. If he said anything further, Micah didn't hear it.
Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2015 9:26 pm
The other side of the fire was far enough away from the skinny girl and the balding man that Micah didn't hear if they continued to speak. There was a child here, a little boy, and Micah was vaguely reminded of the sweet, helpful kid who'd given him a hand with the cleaning, back at the Apartments. That seemed like forever ago now, and so normal, so peaceful, compared to what had happened to him since he'd gone out into the Zones.
The kid was looking right at him, and Micah took another step closer, then sat down a few feet away, looking over at the boy. Maybe he'd be lucky. Maybe the kid would be normal, or at least not as horribly freaky as the other two had been. "Hi," Micah tried.
"I know why this is happening," the boy whispered. Micah stiffened, his breath freezing in his chest. He had to cough once before he could ask, "Why?"
The boy said nothing, but continued to stare at Micah. Micah shifted uncomfortably, about ready to just get up and leave. This campfire was no safe haven. There was no friendliness or warmth to be found here, and the irritable fear itched under his skin. Maybe they were all dying. Maybe they were dead, not far from turning into monsters. Maybe they were monsters already.
Micah blinked, and realized with a strangled gasp that the boy who sat beside him was nothing but a mummified, skeletal corpse, its dry eye sockets staring eyeless at him, its hands curled bonily around its knees. He scrambled to his feet and ran, his heart hammering in his chest, his steps frantic and stumbling. Anywhere. Anywhere but there, with the dead. He could feel his mind creaking under the strain, cracking around the edges. How much longer? How much longer?
OOC
[ Infection Rate ]: 25 + 10 = 35/100
Character's name: Micah Lambert Character's faction: Apartments Character's journal link:Journal Character's survival stats: Micah BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Squarish, short, and irritable. He has short, sandy brown hair in a slightly spiky style, brown eyes, and glasses with a coppery wire frame. Wears practical, tough clothes, jeans or work pants with steel-toed or hiking boots, and a flannel or jacket over a t-shirt. He has a small gold wire earring in his left ear and a star tattooed on the back of his right wrist.
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