[b]Part 3[/b]

(Teal) Green - Everyone is infected by the virus, only it is seen as a good thing. Society has adapted to the change, and the new powers are seen as 'the next step in human evolution'. Sasha is seen as a savior type figure, as he was the 'original'. Izea can either agree with the majority or hate what humanity has become. 

(Teal) Red - Monsters haunt the streets at night, terrorizing anyone who is out at night. Izea is one of the few who knows how to kill them, but he is a recluse who hates himself for killing his best friend. 

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[b]Green[/b] – Slowly I make my way into the kitchen, hoping to get a drink that doesn't taste like asphalt. I can still hear so much more than I should, and as the storm moves ever closer each clap of thunder makes me flinch, trying to crouch away from it on instinct. [i]'Thank god, the taps still work'[/i] The plumbing groans a bit as I fills a glass I pulled from the dish rack and my mind wanders over to the clutter as I sip the water slowly. [i]'I wonder what's happened here. The Izea I remember would never allow for things to get like this. The mess of stuff. . .Normally he has like, three garage sale a year, just to make sure we don't overflow with crap stuffed into every corner'[/i]

I look this way and that, trying to figure out what could be in the boxes when another clap of thunder makes me tench. I let out a yelp as the glass in my hand shatters. I stare at the tiny cuts, the broken pieces falling to the floor only to shatter further across the linoleum. [i]'I. . . .Broke it? By what, squeezing it? That's ridiculous. I mean, I'm not that strong. . .'[/i] As it begins looking more and more like I have some residual something or another left over from the virus I shake my head firmly, turning to wash my hand off in the sink. [i]'Well, at least my skin isn't like jello. I watched a few videos of what it was like to try and wound me. . .That was freaky'[/i]

I pause, my heart skipping a few beats as I hear footsteps on the stairs. I manage to filter out all other noise for a few seconds, allowing me to confirm that the sound of feet on stairs is coming from inside the house and not next door or something like that. Turning toward the kitchen doorway I waits calmly for the owner of those feet to appear, and when he does, I smile. “Hello Izea, good to see you my friend.” My nose tells me something is different about my old friend, however at this moment I do not really care as without a word Izea's stunned visage becomes one of disbelief, then moves right on into overjoyed and in a flash we are hugging and all I can do is focus on breathing and my friend's joyful sobs.

We take a few minutes to just take in eachother's presence before we make out way to the kitchen table and sit down, so much to get caught up on. I become more and more shocked as he tells me how the virus had mutated and spread, infecting the world over, however because of me and my genetic sampling, taken upon my 'death' the scientists we once worked with were able to come up with, not a cure, but something to stabilize the mentality of those infected. “They released it in gaseous form all over the globe, and other than a few rare cases, it was successful. Everyone is like you now, even me.” Izea speaks this with a note of pride, but rolls his eyes at the next part.

“A lot of people are claiming that this was the 'next step in human evolution' but I say it was just man's science creating a monster, then managing to contain the mess rather than cleaning it up. . .” His eyes glisten as he looks at me, it still clear that he thinks he may be dreaming. However after a moment my stomach growls and we both laugh. “Let me pull something out for us.” As he opens the fridge my eyes go a little wide at all the cuts of meat stacked up inside. He sees my widened gaze and offer me a slightly pathetic look. “One of the side effects. It varies from person to person, but as a result of the alterations, our digestive tracks become more able to handle either meat or veggies. I'm a meatavour, and even if you're not, we are all still technically omnivorous, so this should be fine.”

As he begins cooking, explaining that he like the meat a little on the rare side now, I look tot he mess in the front room and let out a sigh. “So, is one of the side effects in you case hoarding as well?”

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[b]Red[/b] – Thunder claps once more and from outside I can hear the beasts yelp and flee. The scrabble of their claws on the cement grates on my ears, but at the moment all I care about is finding out what the heck has happened to Izea, and the world for that matter. Brushing my hand over my nose to try and dispel some of the dust I look up the stairs, wondering if hes' in bed. [i]'It's a good a place to start as any'[/i] Shrugging I slowly make my way up the creaky steps. I have to dodge around a few scattered boxes, but as I reach the top of the stairs I still. [i]'That sounded like a gun'[/i] My gaze slowly shifts over to my left, towards Izea room, and as my focus zeros in I realize I can hear. Someone approaching his bedroom door.

Not wanting to get shot by my best friend I call out before he can open the door and mistake me for an intruder, or one of those creatures for that matter. “Izea? When in the world did you learn to shoot my dear friend? Last time I took you out shooting you managed to get bit by you hand gun. Slide bite, remember?” The footsteps still as I begin talking but after I fall silent I hear the loud clunk of something much larger than a pistol falling to the thickly carpeted floor of Izea's room. The footsteps resume, slow and shaky, and I remain still. The door cracks open ever so slightly and I can see Izea's familiar green eyes peeking out at me. I offer him my warmest smile however a moment later I flinch as the storm finally breaks right overhead.

He watches me fall into a crouch, holding my head with both hands with a groan. The door opens a little wider and my head comes up as I here his whisper, even through my hands. “Sasha? Is that you?” I offer him another smile and a nod.

“Yes, it's me my friend. . .” The door bangs open and I let out another groan at the sound, however he ignores this and tackles me to the ground. He alternates between hugging me and punching me in the arm as he rambles on and on about how bad he feels about killing me, and how he must be dreaming. I sit up best I can, marveling at the now faint muscle tone my old friend has. Before the change, I was the only one with the barest hint of muscle, but now it looks is if Izea has been working out. Looking at my own arms I notice that 'm abnormally muscular for what I last recall of my physical fitness, however I brush it off as Izea is once more punching my arm. “Yea, I am sorry you had to do you, but as you can see, I am not dead Izea, so could you stop trying to see how many bruises you can put on me in less than two minutes?”

He laughing, rolling off of me as he wipes away his tears. He apologizes and drags me back to his room where we flops down on his bed to talk. As we pass it I eye the large, vaguely odd looking, shotgun he had dropped earlier, but all my focus falls on him as we get comfy. He tells me of how the test subjects got out, and because of their invulnerability how the police and event he army have been unable to do anything about them. “They escape even the most well laid traps, and no one knows how to kill them. Well, almost no one. . .” He looks away and I can almost feel the shame radiating off of him. Placing a hand on his arm I nod for him to go on. “I. . .I have killed a few, the ones who get too close to the house at night. However, no one knows this because they drag off their dead before any humans can find them. . .”

He glances at me and answers my question even before I can ask it. “I thought a few times that I should give up the secret to killing them, but each time I do I. . I feel this sick pull in my stomach and I think of you, laying there. . .Dead by my hand. . .It's one thing to kill out of defense, but I. . .These were people once, and I swear, they are not as vicious as they seem to be, they just. . .'[/i] As he stops making sense I pat his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. This seems to calm him and he once more manages to look me in the eye.

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And that is all for part three! I hope to see you all next time, and I can't wait to see your ideas!