WICKED; morgan seong . (echoing) wrote in rulethenight, @ 2011-09-07 21:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !narrative, plot: night of the living dead, selia andrade |
young hearts burst open, wounds bleed fresh
Rubble skittered down the cracked sidewalk when she nudged a pile out of her way with her boot experimentally, the tall woman standing in the hot, sticky shadows between a pawn shop and an XXX movie store. It was dark and humid, oppressive. Selia Andrade had been sent to places in a bad way before; farmsteads in Iowa teeming with flies, dead bodies piled up in the barn, crack houses and inner-city slums with mutilated corpses crawling over one another in basements and wardrobes after a rogue necromancer had taken a long walk of the short cliff of sanity but nothing, none of the horrors she’d seen in her life, compared to Boston. An entire city on the precipice of destruction.
It was insanity. Car alarms whined up and down, caterwauling through the distant but pervasive groans of thunder from the black sky above. Fires burned in the streets, stores were being looted. Corpses ran in packs, jaws snapping, eyes wide and sunken, wild with hunger and rage.
This was not containable, that much was glaringly obvious. When the situation was curtailed there would be questions and someone would have to answer them. How had the dead suddenly started walking? Who was responsible? How was it stopped? For centuries her people had hidden themselves from the rest of the world, living in their compounds and training their young how to wield their powers, educating people like Selia, those individuals who could venture out into the world to protect the whole. For the first time while on a mission Selia didn’t know what was going to happen when she was done and concern grew in her like a cancer. This could be the end of a way of life, she thought, of centuries of tradition. They had all watched what exposure had done for the therianthropes and how the vampires flourished and were not eager to join the conflict.
A middle-aged woman with glass embedded in her chest and throat darted past and Selia pressed herself into the shadows. Now wasn’t the time for an internal debate on the situation, though. Selia knew she had to act as quickly as she could to find the source. That was her job, after all. That was what she had been trained for, to root out out and fix up problems, everything else was politics and not her problem. With that in mind she slunk off into the late-afternoon darkness of the cursed city and continued her hunt for the source.