[center][color=crimson] [h3][u]E Z R A L A R K[/u][/h3]T h e B r o n x ● S e c t o r B r 6 [/color][/center] [hider=Excerpt from the journal of Ezra Lark][color=crimson][i]New Windsor, The Bronx 0935 hours[/i] [b]WHERE THE FUCK IS THE SUN?![/b] -end-[/color][/hider] Ezra picked at his wrist for the millionth time since he started to turn fabulous, gritting his teeth against the dull ache that permeated his entire body. The crystal growths were expanding further, stretching up almost to his elbows, and forming thick shoulder pads underneath his clothes. His sleeves were rolled up, in order to accommodate his larger physiology, but his shirt still hung awkwardly on his torso, brushing weirdly against his spines and other spiky growths. He sighed- he was just gonna have to endure it, sadly. It was better than having to go shirtless, that was for sure. His stomach growled hungrily again, and Ezra scowled- at his stomach, at the still-too-dark sky, at the alleyway he was trying to slink through unnoticed... nothing made sense anymore. His right side still ached slightly more than the rest of him, after the rough time he'd had this morning. He'd awoken earlier to Ferals trying to beat down his door (guess they'd heard his snoring), and had exited the room through the only way he could- out the window. Thankfully, he'd only been on the second floor, and his new physiology seemed to have absorbed most of the impact, but he was still a little sore from the tuck-and-roll landing. Then, later, he'd realized that it was well past time for the sun to rise, and yet the skies were still black. Which was unnerving, to say the least. Not only had two-thirds of the city decided the Long Pork diet was the way to go, but now the sun had gone dim, and the sky had turned black. It was officially the worst Monday in the history of [i]ever.[/i] Ezra kept to the shadows, keeping an ear out for the cries or snarls of anymore Ferals out and about. Thankfully, they all sounded rather distant, at the moment, along with the staccato bursts of machine gun fire, peppering the silence in between the booms of cannon or artillery fire. Or maybe bombs, or grenades. He didn't know, and didn't care- as long as someone was doing something to stem this tide, he could put off having a psychotic break for now. He had better things to do right now, anyway, and the less Ferals that got between him and his goal, the better. He hoped he still knew where it was- it had been a couple months since he'd had to navigate his way there, and the darkness wasn't helping. His target, of course, being Fordham University, where his sister went to school. Despite it being a weekend when the apocalypse hit, Rebecca lived on campus in the dorms, which meant she might have been caught up in all the nonsense that had occurred. If, indeed, she wasn't already part of the nonsense, one way or another... Ezra shook his head vigorously, as though to dislodge that particular train of thought. She was okay- she had to be. Rebecca was scrappy, resourceful... and she was his sister. If he could emerge unscathed (relatively) from the initial nightmare, maybe so could she. Though, he hoped that she hadn't shared in his fate, honestly- this was no picnic, and if she'd caught his particular strain of Fuck-You, he had no idea how it would affect her. Her case could be more mild... or more severe. [color=crimson][i]...Clearly, I'm not good at this whole, "don't-think-about-it" thing.[/i][/color] Ezra kept walking, emerging from the alleyway that he'd been skulking through, glancing left and right, up and down the street, before turning right, trying to stay low, though the streetlight up ahead was going to make that hard. He was almost to the university, though, so he just had to persevere. He tried crossing the street, away from the light, when something it happened again. Just as before, with the electrical outlet yesterday, a bolt of red lightning arced out from the streetlight, the sparks dancing along his arms, particularly where the crystals had pierced through his skin. Ezra yelped, then leaped back out of range (he thought) of the streetlight, rubbing at his arm where the lightning struck. He ducked back into the alleyway, keeping an eye out for any Ferals that might have been attracted by his little light show. He glanced down at his hand, surprised to see the crystals glowing faintly, like a glow-in-the-dark sticker. [color=crimson][i]Huh. That's weird...[/i][/color] He rubbed his abdomen absently, feeling off-kilter slightly, though he wasn't sure why. Feeling like his luck with Ferals was holding out slightly better than yesterday, he walked back to the streetlight, curious. Tentatively he approached again, stretching out his right arm. [i]Crackle.[/i] Another few arcs reached out to his arm, striking the crystals and making them glow. There was a strange sound, too- somewhere between the screech of tearing metal and psychotic, over-caffeinated crickets chirping. Very faint, but getting louder with each arc of lightning that caressed his arm. He pulled back his hand, observing the brighter glowing crystals, and the strange cricket-chirp noise. As the sound and the glow died down, Ezra rubbed his abdomen again, feeling... strange, for some reason. It took him a moment to figure out why. He felt less hungry than before. Not by much, but moreso than before. [color=crimson][i]Oooookay...? Apparently I eat electricity now...[/i][/color] Ezra stretched out both palms this time, willing the power contained in the lamp to come to him. Immediately, and with much more force than before, the red lightning surged forth, lapping at his arms, the cricket noise going crazy, and his senses... well. There were scant words to describe the sensation. It was like the world's greatest energy drink, or smelling salts and steroids- everything seemed brighter, clearer! His mind, his body was on overdrive! It was, quite possibly, the coolest thing he'd ever-- [b][i]POP!![/i][/b] Ezra yelped again and ducked back as the streetlight's bulb exploded, and his energy source was suddenly cut off. He paused in shock for a few moments, before starting to walk away sheepishly. Clearly, he was going to have to exercise caution with this newfound ability- the power grid likely wouldn't survive too much of such "eating habits." Not to mention, while he did feel restored and refreshed, the gnawing feeling in his stomach hadn't diminished by as much as he'd hoped. It seemed that while he didn't need to eat as long as he had power supplies, it was still uncomfortable not to. [color=crimson][i]And here I thought I'd solved one of my resource issues. Ah, well, at least tapping into the power grid can work in a pinch.[/i][/color] He continued walking for a few more steps, when he heard it- screaming. Roaring and snarling. Directly behind him. Feeling his stomach drop, he turned around, and was not pleased with what he saw. Ferals. Not quite the horde he'd seen wandering toward the militarized areas, but still large enough to be concerning. And they were charging [i]right toward him.[/i] He glanced down at his arms and groaned- he was lit up like a Christmas tree, perfectly visible to even the sight-challenged not-undead. He turned and started to run, even if he knew it was hopeless- he'd never outrun this many Ferals, not even freshly "fed" as he was. He was gonna die, picked down to the bones by a bunch of slimy zombies. And yet, he still ran, hoping adrenaline would succeed where cardio had failed. The screams and cries were getting closer now. Louder. Interestingly enough, the cricket sound was also getting louder in his ears. He kept running. They were getting even closer, practically nipping at his heels. Cricket noise chirped even louder. He felt fingers scrabbling at the hem of his hoodie- they were right on top of him! Cricket noise was almost unbearably high-pitched, it felt like his whole body was vibrating along with it... A hand clamped around his shoulder, and a surge of fear and... something shot through Ezra. The cricket noise became a high-pitched whine. He lashed out with his left arm. [color=crimson][b]"NO!!"[/b][/color] he cried. And then the world exploded. His crystals flashed bright, like a magnesium flare, and crimson bolts of electricity suddenly poured from his body, greedily surging toward the pursuing Ferals. Their screams of hunger and rage suddenly became cries of fear and agony as the bloody arcs carved charged furrows into their flesh, their eyes cooking in their skulls, their veins igniting in red light. In mere instants, it was over- at least a dozen Ferals lay at his feet, smoking and twitching in their death throes. Ezra looked at the corpses in awe, then down at his hands, which were still glowing, though not as much as before. They were still resonating, though- metal-cricket-sound and all. [color=crimson][i]...So. Apparently, I can do that.[/i][/color] His musing was cut short as he heard another pack of screamers, this time from farther away, thankfully. They were still probably heading this way, though, so he decided to hightail it while he was still minimally glowy. [hr] It took some doing, but Ezra finally managed to reach the Fordham campus with minimal incident, following his Feral barbecue. Even in the dark, the university was unmistakable. Hopefully he still knew his way around- he needed to make his way to the dorms, where his sister would hopefully be waiting. As he walked across the street to the university campus, however, his ears caught more screaming from ahead of him and to the side of him. He suppressed the urge to groan- more Ferals. Of course- there had to be millions of them, if logic served correctly. He turned to his left, where a gas station was still partially lit up, illuminating a group of Ferals banging away at the walls, trying to break inside. He cursed, and moved toward the deeper dark. Thankfully his glowy bits and cricket noises had stopped, and the Ferals were a little too occupied to notice him. He also still felt the remaining electricity he'd hopped up on surging somewhere deep inside him. It would come in handy if he ran across any more uglies, though how long his reserves would last was an educated guess, at best. As he walked toward one of the buildings to use as cover from the Ferals in the open, he noticed something odd in the half-dark- a banner, of some sort, hanging from one of the fourth-story windows. He squinted, seeing something scrawled onto the white banner, though it was hard to make out at first. He got a little closer, and... there it was. [b]HELP.[/b] An SOS? Someone was alive in there. Maybe not for long, if some Ferals came sniffing about, but that was why he was here. With luck, whoever was up there knew Rebecca. It was worth a shot, either way. Ezra weaved his way into the building as quietly as he possibly could. Quiet enough that he could hear the screeching from above, faint, but unmistakable. [color=crimson][i]Fuck,[/i][/color] he thought. [color=crimson][i]They're already upstairs! I have to get up there- that's my only lead![/i][/color] Still trying to stay as quiet as possible, though moving more quickly, Ezra ascended the stairs, following the noise of screeching once-humans and flesh thudding against solid matter. He made it up to the fourth floor, where the sound was louder, and peered around the corner. There- Ferals, at least six or seven, screeching and climbing all over each other, battering their hands, their faces, their entire bodies against a door down the hall. Which, if his sense of direction still served, was about where the SOS had been placed. No time to lose then. Taking a deep breath to steel his courage, Ezra darted around the corner, charging at the Feral pack. One of them turned toward him and screeched, just before taking a crystal fist to the face, caving in its skull lethally. As the rest of the pack turned toward Ezra, and he brought his other fist forward to crash into another Feral's stupid mouth, he concentrated on the feeling he'd felt earlier, when he'd fried the other crew of Ferals earlier. His crystals began to glow as the Ferals began clawing at him, warded off by Ezra's swinging limbs, shattering jaws and cracking bones as they connected, though they got back up pretty quickly from even his crushing blows, and started returning the favor. He took a rake of nails across his left cheek, and what might have once been a savage blow to his ribs, but by then it was too late. With an angered cry, and another burst of metal-cricket-chatter and bright light, Ezra lit up the hallway with bloody luminescence, raking the Ferals with electrical arcs. The burst wasn't quite as strong as the earlier one, and left him very lightheaded once he'd done it, but it did its purpose- the Ferals screamed and collapsed to the ground, twitching and screeching in pain. Ezra didn't wait for them to recover- quickly, he wove in-between prone Feral bodies, cocking a fist back and delivering a literally-crushing blow to each of their skulls, ending them before they even had a chance to try and get up. With that finished, Ezra quickly turned toward the door the Ferals had been battering, and knocked. Politely. [color=crimson]"Umm... hello? Anyone alive in there? I, uh... I need help. And from the looks of things, so do you."[/color] Ezra cocked his head, listening for more attackers. Thankfully, they all still sounded a fair distance away, though that could always change. [color=crimson]"...Look, if there's 'alive inside,' ya gotta tell me now, dude. We gotta move, and fast, before more of those fuckers show up."[/color]