help, i'm alive! // rskde & sixlikesgore.

[cyx.]

It could've been years since the outbreak had occurred, spiraling the world into its chaotic realm, but that time was lost for a certain individual who hadn't shared the same fate as many of the people she knew. Unlike them, Charlotte Dawson's genetic code hadn't allowed her the same outcome. What would've been a fatal bite to most, an introduction to a life-altering virus that would consume every fiber in that individuals body, had stripped away everything Charlie ever knew, and reworked everything in its path.

The twenty two year old had gone from living a recklessly carefree life in the heart of New York City to stalking its streets among a blood thirsty horde. Surf couching didn't make for the most reliable crash pad when the outbreak occurred, and given Charlie's civilian status, she was among the many who were the last to know before it was too late. The redhead had just been stepping off a metro subway when a body knocked into her with such brute force, the wind was knocked out of her before her back had slammed to the linoleum tiles below. By the time the infected man had latched onto the section between her shoulder and neck, the scream that would've fled the woman's pale lips was stifled due to her lack of breath. Other patrons had luckily rushed to her aid, but the damage was done - at least, what little damage could be afflicted upon her specific strain of DNA.

It became clear after the outbreak started to spread like rapid fire that the shit was past hitting the fan. Because of the nature of her wound, Charlie refused to seek medical attention, fearing two scenarios that would most likely be the outcome;
she'd run into more deranged, crazed individuals and get another chunk bitten out of her; or, and more likely, she'd be considered a threat due to contamination, and quarantined. But the real tick off that something wasn't right occurred after holing up with a few others who'd been bitten as well. Their bodies transitioned differently - going through bouts of fevers and cold chills, fatigue, and nausea. It didn't take long before they became unresponsive completely to words, resorting to guttural groans and growls instead.

The primitive nature of these infected individuals wasn't something that Charlie could, at first, grasp. But over time, with no other living being to converse with, she saw little choice but to take advantage of their non-hostile approach to her scent. Unfortunately, as the days passed, the social skills that had been taught to the twenty two year old from the day she was born had began to slip. Communicating wasn't something the freckled-faced woman could do with these.. creatures - not in the same way they seemed to follow each other's calls. Sleeping together for the warmth in the cool nights and safety against any possible predators started to feel like a second nature to her now, and it was rare to hunt something alone in the vast clutter of streets.

But there was something more to Charlie than the creatures that huddled around her at night in their nests; she still yearned to explore, to socialize, to cling to that small bit of humanity that was buried under the surface. Insomnia had plagued her more nights than not before the outbreak, and even after, it was no exception. Splitting from the horde wasn't always a good idea, not when they were intuitive and aware.. but sleeping? After daybreak, sneaking into the sun's rays was easy - it was trying to decide where to go that was hard.

Usually, her nose carried her explorations, but this morning was different.. As the petite woman breached the daylight, a sound caught her attention that wasn't familiar. Whether it was the naive nature of being with a horde of unstoppable monsters, or her strength of curiosity, Charlie's bare feet carried her towards the sound with a joyous haste that immediately had her heart racing with adrenaline. Leaping over barriers, weaving over and around cars, Charlie's newfound free running capabilities came into play sharply as she navigated closer to the source. All she could feel in the tension of her legs was the thrill of the hunt that she'd become so accustomed to feeling when bursting into a sprint, urging every fiber of the twenty two year old to fling around the last corner to her prey.

Before the figure could even be fully looked upon, Charlie pounced forward, fingers clenching onto the shoulders of the stranger that had attracted her attention, forcing him to the nearest brick wall. Immediately, the woman pressed her weight against his own in an attempt to stop any possible squirming while her mouth positioned over his neck. His?

Abruptly, Charlie jumped backwards, much like a cat when surprised, immediately on the defensive. Hazel orbs that had been filled with adrenaline were now narrowed with bewilderment, eyebrows pinched together in a stern look. The adrenaline was starting to subside, and quickly replace with a feeling she hadn't experienced since the day she was bit, causing her chest to rise and fall even harder in the nearly shredded sweater that loosely fit her torso. The man before her certainly wasn't apart of her horde - his hair was enough to display that, not to mention his exposure to sunlight. But what possibly startled her more was that.. Charlie didn't know what to do. A quick sweep of the alley made her very much aware that she was alone with this stranger, and pouncing on someone wasn't the best first impression.

Swallowing thickly, Charlie attempted to slow her breathing, and very slowly started to raise her hands slightly to show her palms in a non-threatening way. Maybe if he saw she wasn't a 'threat', there'd be no harm done. However, that bewildered look never parted from her features, barely able to believe the sight before her.​

 

[Risky]

Before the infection, he was a soldier.. And after the infection, his contract remained to be a soldier. That's what he was told when New York was evacuated, to stay with Dr. Robert Fueller until his research for a cure could be completed, both of them were immune, so therefore both of them could make an excellent team to fight off whatever kind of infection had taken over this side of the world. His one and only mission was to protect the Doctor, make sure that he could finish his work and they would both be heroes of humanity, it seemed like a good deal to him at the time.

That is, until the good Doctor lost his life. It was a very dark night on their way back to the small mansion that they had set up shop in, the Doctor had been going on and on about how what they were doing was hopeless. Soon after, the soldier had found him dead in the bathroom, a bullet lodged so deep into his brain that it would take a microscope to follow the path it left. His body was tossed far from the mansion, and for a little while this soldier was unsure of what to do.

The soldier, identified by his dog tags, went by the name of Ryan Andrews, and luckily for him, the doctor had left behind some crucial notes to his work. So after a period of studying, Ryan went back to doing what the doctor had started, collecting tissue, finding animals, and sometimes humans that were infected to study their behavior, and test his new variations of a 'cure' which weren't reall going all that well.

Ryan stands at 6'1 and has a large muscular frame, mostly from his years in the service and his still vigorous work out schedule, as he could not afford to get lazy in such a hostile New York. He had hazel-brown eyes and black hair that seemed to be cut down by hand, as if by an inexperienced hand. There was pain and grief sitting in his stare, he had been alone for so long now, the only things to keep him company being the experiments he kept in the basement of the mansion.

So when he was walking along, looking for one of his traps he was thinking about his time in New York, how terribly lonely it was since the doctor so selfishly offed himself to leave Ryan here alone with his thoughts, when he was pounced on. This is the end of me. Was the only thought running through his head as he closed his eyes, feeling the hot breath of the infected woman on his neck... Not biting him..

His eyes open and look to her, she was hesitating for some reason. He watches her jump backwards, he was wearing a hoodie and jeans, plus a pair of boots, his M16A4 rifle slung at his side, which was immediately pointed at her, he was still sitting in the ground at this point, breathing very heavily from his brush with death.

When her hands open and almost raise in surrender his rifle points down a little, his eyes scan her face, her skin suggested that she was infected, same with her eyes.. But she had beautiful red hair, no other infected that he had seen human-wise had hair still on their heads. He slowly stands, his rifle still in a ready position as he watches her. "Are you.. Are you infected?" He asks, what was even more surprising was her willingness to be out in the sun, something other infected would not dare risk.

 

[cyx.]

Nothing but fear was left to explode in the redhead's eardrums; her eyes stared bewildered at the gun barrel pointed directly at her, frozen in her stance. When it slowly began to lower, the twenty two year old's eyes never left it, sure that he was going to squeeze the trigger and fire upon her anyway. With her chest still heaving within the ragged sweater she'd been wearing since the beginning - hair fallen enough over her shoulder to expose the scar of her bite mark - Charlie nearly flinched backwards once more at the sound of the man's voice. Her legs clenched as if she were, but managed to resist, keeping the lean, pale legs stationed in their ripped jean shorts.

The question he asked caused Charlie's eyebrows to raise in slight confusion, head cocking gently to the side as though he were attempting to communicate with an animal. "In.. fected?" she repeated the word out loud, eyelids narrowing in thought as the letters rolled off her tongue. When her orbs focused once more on the man before her, Charlie's shoulders gave a visible shake. "I.. I don't know.." Trailing off, the woman's hands shifted over her stomach at first, feeling all the spots she remembers being groped; continuing up past her chest until finally settling on the scar nuzzled at the crook of her neck. "He bit me so hard.. I remember because of the blood.." Withdrawing her hand, Charlie glanced down into her open palm, as though reliving through the motions of witnessing the crimson liquid pouring down her skin.

And then the realization of what she'd said came to, and her head abruptly snapped up, eyes focusing on him once more. "Please don't hurt me. I- I'll just.. go.. please.. I'm sorry."​