Lost Wishes [Cheshire Smirk and Shaelinn]

[Shaelinn]

Cassy didn't ask much from her life. A decent food to fill her stomach with, few hours of undisturbed sleep and not being ripped to shreds by blood lust crazed werewolves was all she ultimately desired; any discomfort would be a fair price for fulfilling those basic needs. Well, at least that's what she had thought until the leader of their little group got the brilliant idea of venturing into the fucking desert. The wind howled ominously; the fabric wrapped around her face for protection worked rather well, but she could still feel the grains of sand getting under her clothes and irritating her skin. Neither the vicious sun roasting her alive nor her itchiness made the march any more bearable. They had been walking since morning without any rest; well, 'walking' was a generous word. 'Plodding desperately' would be a better term to use in the description. The weight of baggage each of their group carried on their backs was dragging them down and thirst was burning their throats. Nobody could really call Cassy a spoiled princess, but her pain receptors still functioned and she wasn't exactly immune to this kind of torture.

'Safety reasons' my ass! Yes, werewolves may be less likely to appear there, but that's only because they have way more common sense than us. For fuck's sake, who'd willingly enter this hell?! If they don't get us, the heat surely will. Now that Cassy thought about it, she'd actually prefer the werewolves if she had the privilege of choosing; their fangs would at least be quick to tear through her delicate skin. Though if I could select any method of death, old-fashionable cyanide pill is my number one choice. Fast, reliable and leaves a beautiful corpse. Carbon monoxide poisoning would provide a nice departure from life as well in the right concentration, but it wouldn't be too elegant in terms of execution. Hmm, what else... Bullet in the head? she thought with traces of dark humor, forcing herself to go on through sheer determination despite her fatigue. Fantasizing about one's demise was probably a sign of developing mental disorder in civilized world, but the place they lived in had been stripped of that fanciful title a long ago. The blood smeared future held no promise of the situation getting better and Cassy actually found comfort in getting familiar with the concept she probably wouldn't live long enough to experience her hair turning gray; numbing her feelings concerning that matter significantly reduced the fear. Not completely, of course, but human mind had the handy ability of getting used to anything. The initial paralyzing fright had worn off to be replaced with a slow, lingering paranoia that had eventually banished them to the desert. Honestly, had the leader asked her for her opinion, she would have sent him where the sun doesn't shine, but their group practiced democracy or rights of an individual from very abstract angle. It was either 'go with us' or 'rot somewhere in a canal', and nothing really encouraged her to try out the latter option.

Cassy felt a touch on her shoulder and jerked away instinctively; when she turned around, she found herself staring into Finn's green eyes.
"Are you okay, Cass? You don't look that well." Well, no shit, I forgot my make-up kit at home, Cassy thought, but managed to hold her tongue back. Her brother broke the formation just to ensure she was alright; a snappy remark would be a little inappropriate here. Besides, he must have been tired as well. "Yeah, I'll live. Don't worry about me and return to your position before they decide to cut your pinkie off for sabotaging our defense plan," she smiled weakly, her lips parched from thirst. A defense plan. Ha! My sense of humor is getting more and more refined. Their motto 'run as fast as you can at the first sight of danger and never look back' mostly paid off, but she was a little hesitant to call the flight a plan. Finn returned her smile, patted her on her shoulder reassuringly and did as she told him. He was a good boy; a good boy and only family Cassy had. The standoffish attitude she was blessed with caused he may have very well been also her only true friend, but not even a professional torture technician would be able to beat the admission out of her. Apocalypse or not, certain things never changed; the never-ending war of sibling rivalry continued and overt displays of affection could destroy her chances of winning. Putting her feet forward mechanically, Cassy almost wished she could join her brother on the patrol, but another of new rules prohibited it; while women needed to be adept at self-defense in order to survive, protecting the group ultimately wasn't their concern. Popping out children is. God forbid if they were to lose a perfectly good womb in some stupid scuffle. Recent events had pushed feminist movement's efforts right back to the stone age with ease.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, the leader commanded them to stop and build a camp. The nomadic lifestyle they'd been leading had taught them an importance of a good teamwork, so they worked in flawless synchronicity on setting up the tents. Cassy's back hurt as if she had substituted Atlas in his tremendous ask of carrying the sky on his shoulders, but no complaints could be heard from her; instead, she gritted her teeth and helped with preparations as much as she could. Both tiredness and bad mood kept their mouths shut; not a single word was uttered aside from few necessary instructions. Sweat was running down her forehead by the time they were done, but the reward - the well-deserved rest - outshone the trouble. Cassy almost waltzed off into one of the tents, pulled out a sleeping bag out of her rucksack and spread it on the ground carefully. A content sigh left her lips as she finally shed the numerous layers of shawls wrapped around her face; Cassy shook her head, her curly strawberry blonde hair whipping wildly in the moment of sweet liberation. The scene actually looked quite stunning and reminded of a caterpillar's transformation into butterfly; with her fair, freckles-sprayed skin, small nose and full lips, Cassy was far from ugly. Yawning, she reached into the depths of her backpack again, this time to find her treasure and personal connection to civilization... A pencil and a thick brown notebook. It wasn't exactly a diary; its pages contained mostly thoughts, inner monologues of cyclic nature that never seemed to lead anywhere. Confiding her ideas to paper soothed her in a strange way and she made sure to write at least a paragraph every day. The sleep could wait for a while; she couldn't just ignore her daily ritual. Not bothering with literary finesses or proper language, Cassy sat down comfortably and let the pencil dance on the blank page.

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

((Nice intro!))

Eventually night, freezing night, fell upon the high desert steppes. The ragtag band of weary refugees that had sought shelter and safety within Father Desert's dry, cracked palm were about to learn a harsh lesson. They had bemoaned the sun's scorching affections during the day...And now Daughter Night would make the ragged ''survivors'' pray for dawn to break her frigid embrace. The frail and weak-minded would view this treatment as testament to nature's cruelty. The enlightened however recognized these tests for the gifts they really were. The Desert made sure that only the strongest and smartest survived. Those that did not learn did not make it. There were no warning labels out here, no hazard signs or rest stops along the way.

The flow of stragglers fighting tooth and nail to reach High Rock seemed to be an endless cycle, their hearts full of desperate hope and their minds brimming with visions of safe sturdy walls, clean water and electricity, glorious electricity! It was these very stragglers that were so essential to the survival of High Rock. Without them the Afflicted would not brave the perils of the desert. Without the Afflicted there would be no Hunters. Without Hunters there would be no Inoculate, and without Inoculate there would be no hope to hide the dark deception of tyranny with.

Those that reached High Rock never found what they expected. There was too much work to be done and not enough currency flowing through to make it all worthwhile. The once plentiful trade caravans that valiantly braved the winding, perilous roads through the mountains in floods had dwindled to a trickle as the afflicted population swelled. Inflation ran rampant as the 'upper class' kept the peasants in a state of indebted servitude by holding water, the most basic and holy of all resources hostage with an iron fist. But what good was currency with nothing to spend it on? Enter the Inoculate!The only thing more valuable than water was the Inoculate...Flesh of someone who had survived an afflicted attack without turning. The idea was nothing short of quackery but the terrified populace would pay money hand over fist and give away everything they had for a steady supply of the macabre product.



Two crimson eyes streaked with topaz watched the camp from afar, peering through a pair of rusted binoculars. Starlight was more than enough for this gifted hunter to watch the bait. This was the best part of the hunt. Stray thoughts entertained the hunter's mind as he waited patiently for the show to begin. Would any of them survive? Would they fight? Would they even wake up? Question after question danced through his head, ideas and curious musings chasing scenarios to and fro across the landscape of his thoughts. The hunter could spend hours crouched motionless among the brush and tumbleweeds in patient contemplation.
They'd come...They always did. Superstitious folk thought they only came on the full moon. The truth was they always came, even when Mother Moon could not be seen riding high in the sky. Miles away he could smell their scents drifting on the air. Soon the songs would start and then the hunt would begin. Soon he would feel alive once more!

((sorry it's short))

 

[Shaelinn]

Cassy usually guarded her personal space with ferocity of a famished bloodhound, but this night forced her to reconsider her radical stance; perhaps for the first time ever, she appreciated sleeping in a tiny tent with six other people. While the acrid stench of unwashed bodies confined in one small space still nudged her sense of smell in the worst ways imaginable, the act of sharing warmth probably saved her from freezing to death. Cold's icy fingers crept under the ragged blankets to caress her sensitive skin and made her shiver; it was the shift of climate that had pulled her out of her dreamless slumber. She knew the desert's weather could be just as treacherous as quicksand, changing rapidly from hellish blaze to arctic temperatures, but no theory prepared her for the reality. Mother nature's flexibility was actually fascinating from a certain standpoint; too bad that discomfort stood in the way of Cassy's admiration. I can't believe I already miss the sun. Fucking cold. Why can there be no middle ground? Cassy found herself clinging to her nearest neighbor to steal a little of the precious heat from him despite barely knowing his name. Good thing he was sound asleep; this could easily turn into an unwanted grope-fest. Closing her eyes, she attempted to doze off again, but the string of her dreams had already been severed. Torn between desire to snatch a few more hours of sleep and inability to do so, the girl just lay motionlessly and waited for fatigue to overpower her... To no avail.

Oh, great. Adding insomnia to my growing list of health problems is just what I need. The velvet silence of the night intensified all the sounds and she listened to the symphony. Snoring of her mates, quiet chatter of the guards outside, occasional careful footsteps; it almost seemed as if they were alone in the wasteland, the sole guests enjoying the desert's hospitality. A perfect isolation... Or not so perfect, as it turned out. A muffled cry pierced through the night; the universal expression of horror. A chain of sinister howls erased all the doubts she had about the source of the dread. The emptiness of the desert had given them a false sense of security and now the wolves would punish their ignorance. Suddenly wide awake, Cassy climbed out of her sleeping bag even before the dark figure barged into their tent. "Wake up!" he screamed... "They... They're here..." The message was quite clear even to those whose judgement had been clouded by the sleep for nobody really expected a pizza delivery. It took but a few seconds for all the accumulated stress and fright to erupt in a full-fledged frenzy. Some broke down in sobs immediately, unwilling to accept the death sentence hovering above them, while others quickly threw away the remnants of their compassion and trampled on their former friends just to get outside. The panic - horrible, all-engulfing panic - left little place for remorse. And in that very moment, whether they knew it or not, they ceased to be a group in true sense of the word.

Cassy didn't throw a tearful fit nor did she allow the fear to control her. In fact, the girl felt strangely detached from the recent events, as if she was a mere spectator to the ensuing chaos. The eternal pessimist inhabiting her mind had always presumed such end would be inevitable; after all, statistics didn't exactly speak in humanity's favor and she had never considered herself to be a super special snowflake. Nothing fed her with false hopes, so perhaps that's why she was able to stay calm during crisis. Cassy shoved a confused guy out of her way roughly to get to her backpack; there was a knife buried under the layer of clothes. Her fingers clutched its hilt lovingly and for a second, boost of self-confidence ran through her body. Going after a bunch of werewolves armed with an old piece of iron pretty much equaled to nominating herself for Darwin's price, but the placebo effect was priceless; the weapon in her hand meant a chance to fight back. A tiny, miniature chance comparable to winning a lottery, yet it was still better than crouching on the ground and awaiting your demise tamely. If these beasts wanted her flesh, they'd have to deserve every fucking bite. A single goal emerged in her hazy mind, as clear as a day. Gotta find Finn and gotta do it fast. Cassy was actually the older sister and protecting her little brother in time of need felt like a breathing to her; no stupid gender limitations would stop her now. She just couldn't let him die alone.

An ear-splitting shriek welcomed her once she stepped into the war-zone; three giant, humanoid wolves were tearing meat off some poor guy's bones, obviously reveling in his agony. Disgusting sounds of gobbling suggested that they had never bothered to learn the rules of etiquette. The fight was already over; the corpses of the defenders lay on one great pile, mauled beyond recognition. Most of them would rise again to aid to the pack, but some were so thoroughly broken to pieces that not even ancient curse could bring them back to life. She saw a woman desperately trying to wriggle out of the wolf's tight embrace only to have her entails ripped out and devoured while she was still conscious... And Cassy's composure melted. Of course she had heard rumors about them before, but witnessing the pure bestiality with her eyes was a whole different story. What made these monsters so scary wasn't their power, speed or the fact they could deform your personality and drag you down to their beastly level; their most terrifying aspect was the ability to reason in cold blood. They weren't just predators hunting their prey for the sake of survival; the abominations enjoyed inflicting pain on their victims. She had hoped for a quick death - perhaps a ripped throat - not this torment. Finn, where the hell are you?! Without any plan and terrified out of her wits, Cassy simply ran; she dodged few enemies out of blind luck, but the sand slippery from blood betrayed her soon. The girl yelped as her foot slipped and the knife fell out of her hand. She liked to think of herself as tough, yet when one of the beasts pinned her down and sank its fangs into her flesh, she could do nothing but scream.