Uncomfortably cold, stuck in the fetal position, Acton sat, trying to stay warm and trying in vain to lessen the strain on his bite wound and aching neck. Through the thin metal door of the maintenance closet, the hushed arguing in the room outside was difficult to hear, but audible. With his hands and feet bound, and mouth gagged, Acton lie on the floor, slowly drifting into a sleepy trance, his fingers continuously tapping a rhythm on his rear end, slowly losing feeling in their tips. The business ties around his wrists and ankles were uncomfortably tight, and the rag stuffed in his mouth smelled rather unpleasant, but none of it kept Acton’s sleep deprivation from catching up to him. Before his eyes could fully find a resting spot, though, he sprung back up, the pain in his shoulder flaring back up, and the painful reminder of the worryingly precarious situation he was in bouncing back into his mind. His bound feet pushed him up against the wall opposite of the door, his chest rising and falling erratically. The the pain his his neck flared as he tried to rest it on the fusebox behind him. His mind began to race, sweat beading on his forehead. How had he ended up bleeding in the freezing cold maintenance closet of a hotel. [center][b][u]---[/u][/b][/center] Every other human Acton could see was screaming of the dying around him, the thunderous boom of hordes of mindless monsters rushing around him. How was he so lucky? Like stones in a rushing river, stranded vehicles and piles of bodies where the only thing to interrupt the continuous flow of movement, feral and human alike, careening through the street. What had started as normal Saturday, enjoying a nice smoothie and people watching, turned into a blood spattered nightmare, with strange, rabid creatures attacking and devouring everyone in sight. Acton struggled to stay amongst the fleeing and alive, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd, his own misty breathe shooting out in front of him in ragged puffs. He could hear the volume of screaming and inhuman screeching increasing, but his legs were already being pushed to their limits. As the noises grew closer, and his legs grew shakier, tears welled up as Acton began to accept his fate. When he had finally made his peace with the world, he was pounced, the monster jumping atop him, sinking his teeth in his shoulders, bringing immense pain, blood beginning to ooze out. The monster had managed to pierce Acton’s skin, but the thick coat and clothes he was wearing kept the bite from completely ripping a chunk from him. Acton wrestled wildly to to get away from the Feral biting him, elbowing at it and slamming himself into the ground to try and shake it’s grip. More people stampeded by, and Acton quick turned onto his stomach, hoping for a miracle. The sprinting bodies clashed with the two, the feral being knocked off, and trampled as it rolled into the crowd. Acton sustained a few kicks and steps himself, before finally standing up, and taking a ragged jog into a nearby hotel to lick his wound. Along with a crowed of a few people, Acton burst into the door, following the herd to the elevators, then opting to take the stairs instead. As they got a few floors up, people began to scatter into different rooms, some rushing to get into the large dining areas and hold out. Acton managed to wiggle into one of the dining areas on the higher floors, where less people had trickled into. When he stumbled into the spacey room with a leaking wound in his shoulder, he gathered more than a few stares. Immediately, people were running, hiding under tables and crouching in corners from what appeared to be the end of their little safe haven from the chaos below. Fingers jutted, pointing at his shoulder, screaming that he must’ve been doomed to turn into one of those horrifying creatures making mincemeat of the streets below. Immediately, an argument began to decide whether to throw him back out to the wolves, as a crowd of people encircled the terrified and still trembling Acton. Many argued that throwing him out would be the quickest solution, but many argued opening the doors and causing a commotion ran the risk of letting in the actual Ferals below. Other suggested that they outright kill him where he stood, but even those suggested didn’t exactly have the stomach to kill a kicking, breathing man. The solution? Bound, gag, and throw Acton in a closet, and, there he was. [center][u][b]---[/b][/u][/center] Blood has filled the bandage and dried, sticking to his skin, painfully opening his wound everytime he tried to move it too much, adding more blood to the mix.. His hands and fingers were still tingling asleep, probably due the tight knots around his wrists. His head was pounding, especially around his eyes, and his back and neck ached, all probably from being stuffed in a closet for the past couple of hours. He’d had migraines in the past, but this was different from those. This pain ran deep, resonating up and down his spine to the top of his skull. Suddenly, the room outside grew quiet, which lulled Acton out of his flashback. His eyes widened as he stared at the door, hoping he would be able to see through it if he stared long enough. He jumped back, shooting back against the wall as the door in front of him swung open. A male figure wordlessly stepped in, and grabbed Acton by the face, pulling his glasses off, paying no mind to the startled and pained groans from the man on the floor. Acton’s vision filled with white, and his eyes burned intensely, his head and eyes instinctively shooting away, eyes shutting on instinct. The hand got a new grip on his face, and forced him to turn back towards what Acton realized was a flashlight. The hand shifted, and pulled open one of his eyelids, burning Acton’s teary eyes once again. [color=FA8072]”See? I told you! If he was one of those things, he would’ve turned into it by now! If he was blind, he wouldn’t be turning away from the light like that!”[/color] [color=FF8C00]”She’s not wrong, Christian. Everything I’ve read on that website says they have bad eyesight, and he looked away from the light immediately. I think he’s good. C’mon, we need to treat his wound better, or else he could bleed out or it’ll get infected or some shit.”[/color] [color=6A5ACD]”I still don’t trust it. I know you guys have a point, but I’m still not sure.”[/color] Christian paused for a second, crouched and looking at the cowering man, eyes still squinted in the light. A hand reached to pick up Acton’s glasses, and when he went to place them back in place, he paused, setting them back down and taking a hold of Acton’s face again, once again shining the light in his eyes again. The man and woman behind Christian began to murmur and move around, questioning what he was doing. He held Acton’s eyelid open and turned to the pair behind him. [color=6A5ACD]“His eyes are fucking yellow.”[/color] [center][b][u]- - -[/u][/b][/center] Shuffling down the hallway into the main lobby, the two men with their hands around Acton’s arms kept their heads on a swivel, lest any ferals lurk in the first floor around them. Acton moaned and grunted, the pain in his head and neck worsening with every step. His noises only granted him a sharp elbow in the side, which drew even more miserable groans from his throat. Seeing the glass doors in front of him grow closer and closer still, the tension in his body was rising with every inch he walked. A dull orange glow of an apparently burning city flowed into the lobby of the building, and the closer they got to the thin glass doors, the more still and silent the trio of men grew. The smells of burning flesh and rubber was faintly permeating the lobby, drawing a grimace and beads of sweat from all three of them. Of the small fraction of the street the could see through the glass entrance doors, the carnage was an unholy sight. Acton could feel the fear setting into his legs, stiffening every movement. Finally, their footfalls fell silent as the trio made it right in front of the door, so close their noses could feel the a slight brush of warmth from the glass. Even though Stranded cars doused in blood, and the dead bodies that provided it, filled the eerily quiet streets, the asphalt and sidewalks stained with even more crimson. Amongst the fallen lay police officers, firefighters, and other emergency personnel, one atop the other, in groups around other dead civilians, heralding their failed attempts to save them. Other bodies, covering in black cracks and veins were scattered in the remains too, crazed looks of hunger and savageness plastered on their faces. Disembodied limbs littered the streets as well, all in various states of being consumed, same with many of the bodies. The monsters, who looked almost like ghosts, marked with snaking lines of charcoal up and down their bodies, had had a feeding frenzy on this street. Not too surprising, considering this was one of the busier streets in Manhattan. The two men had their faces nearly pressed against the glass doors, searching frantically for any possible ferals that could be attracted by the noise they were about to make. The streets seemed and looked rather dead, but the silence wasn’t comforting in the slightest. [color=90EE90]“Go ahead, man.”[/color] Without a response, the man on the left reached in his pocket, and pulled out a key ring, unlocking the doors in front of the men with a stressed inducing [i]click[/i]. The man on the right, who had spoken before, let go of Acton’s arm and gave him a stern look, before turning back around and stepping through the door, poking his head out. He looked around, never blinking, his entire body stiff with apprehension. Acton’s breathing began to shake a bit, letting the man’s apprehension become his. His gaze then turned upwards, at the black sky, without a star or moon in sight. He then stepped back inside, and shut the door silently. [color=66CDAA]“What time is it, Rob?”[/color] He asked quietly, without looking back. The man on the right, with one hand still on Acton, reached with his free hand into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. Acton turned his gaze to the phone, the same as the other two men, and shared the same look of horror as they as the screen lit up. It was 9:40 AM. [color=66CDAA]“What the fuck? It’s pitch black outside. Is your phone fucked up? Hey, you, do you got your phone on you?”[/color] The man said, turning his gaze to Acton. Acton wordlessly nodded, and pointed at his right pocket. The man calmly reached in and pull out Acton’s smartphone, pressing the home button, only for a dumbfounded look to plaster his face. Acton’s phone read the same time as Rob’s. The man stared into space for a moment, before slipping Acton’s phone back in his pocket. [color=66CDAA]“No fucking way, man. No way.”[/color] The unnamed man said, shaking his head. He sighed, and looked back at the two others. [color=66CDAA]“We just need to get him outside and get back upstairs. I’m sorry dude, I barely know you, but everyone’s decided you need to go. Good luck out there, man.”[/color] Rob pushed Acton forward, and into the unnamed man’s grip, and Acton could feel a stutter in his step as he could feel himself pulling away from the hell outside. Terrified. He was truly terrified, all the way to his bones. He was only 25, he wasn’t ready to simply give his life up, especially to those ravenous monsters that were tearing New Windsor piece by piece. The men noticed his slight resistance, and the unnamed man gave a tug, but flinched a little. Acton and Rob both stopped in their tracks, their eyes widened. [color=90EE90]”The fuck was that? What’d you jump for?”[/color] He whispered harshly as all the men stayed statue still. [color=90EE90]”Is there something out there?”[/color] The man simply stared at Acton and Rob for a few stunned seconds before finally speaking up, whispering.[color=66CDAA]”No, I dunno, I just felt something weird.”[/color] He took another brief moment to breathe, and reached for Acton again. [color=66CDAA]”C’mon asshole, you need to get out of here before whatever the hell is happening to you starts happening to the rest of us.”[/color] As soon as the man’s hand took grip of Acton, both men jumped back, yelping in surprise, before shutting both their mouths shut. [color=66CDAA]”What the fuck!”[/color] The man whispered harshly.[color=66CDAA]”Did you feel that shit too?”[/color] [color=90EE90]”Hell yeah I felt that! What the fuck was that?”[/color] They both gave hard stares at Acton, looks full of harshness and unforgiving. The unnamed man simply took a step back, opening the glass door all the way, and pointing outside, signifying that Acton would have walk himself out into hell. Once he took his steps out, the door was immediately shut and lock behind him, Acton’ never casting a glance back at the men. Now that he was outdoors, the stench of burning flesh and tire was heavily apparent through the city. All sorts of cacophonous noises could be heard from every direction. It truly was a war, and there was no clear winner. Only Death. Now stranded outside in Manhattan, Acton could only hope he could make it back to his apartment without drawing unwanted attention.