Random OC Post-Apocalyptic Horror/Romance [WIP]

The sheet of metal made a dull clang as it hit the ground, having been pulled off the barricade by his hands. He shielded his eyes, sunlight burning him as he stuck a foot out to test the ground. He'd been crawling through tunnels for months now, avoiding them as he delved into the city, and this was his first taste of sunlight in a long while. It warmed him, the yellow glare breaking through the white veil, these pretty sun-shafts painting spots on the road.

 

He snapped back to reality, he couldn't afford to get caught in a trap now.

 

He tested the ground, dabbing one foot over several places, making sure it wouldn't hold him there, or possibly alert one of them. Feeling safe, he crept out from his hiding spot, casting his gaze over the derelict buildings. The white covered all, only it wasn't like he was used to. It was brittle, strands of it falling off with the breeze, and he could even brush it off the sidewalk with his boot.

 

It was curious...

 

Maybe they were gone... or dead.

 

Dismissing the wild notion, he moved towards the intersection, hand grazing the axe at his side nervously.

 

 Upon reaching the intersection he peered around the corner, taking in the sight of the rotunda. It used to be a circle of commerce, a place where people came to be happy, and trade things with each other. Now it was empty, the white swallowing the building whole almost, and spreading like a weed to the rest of the city.

This was his destination, the great monument in the center of the circle, the alabaster veil spreading from it's height over to the nearby buildings.

 

In any other situation the sight would be awe-inspiring, but not now, not when he was in their heart. He took a cautionary look around, trying to find any sign of them, anything from the shriveled corpses of hapless victims to the discarded shells of their young. Seeing none nearby, his hand strayed closer to his axe, fingertips brushing along the cold steel as he made his way toward the rotunda.

 

Everything felt wrong, like the entire reason for him making it this far was part of an elaborate trap, and that he was to suffer the same fate as countless others. To end up crumpled husks, their insides drained, and looks of horror permanently plastered on their faces. The mere thought of it made his knees shiver, remembering the nights he spent with his back against the door, hearing the screams of people being sucked dry.

 

Shaking his head, he steeled himself for the task ahead, creeping further up the street. He bounced from cover to cover, his steps making no sound, the only thing breaking the silence being the breeze itself.He was close now, mere yards from the monument, when a noise made him stop. A noise he never expected to hear at this particular moment.

 

Humming.

 

He flew back, diving behind a newsstand, frantically searching for whoever was making the noise.

 

Then he saw her.

 

Her skin was white, pale white, more so than he'd seen before, and it stood in stark contrast with her hair. It fell straight down to her shoulders, obsidian in color, and it swayed slightly in the breeze as she walked around the circle. As she moved closer he noticed her dress, made from what looked like silk, almost the same shade as her skin. All together she cut an impressive form, tall and well curved, but she made him nervous. He didn't know why she made his knees quake, but every fiber of his being screamed to run back to the tunnels, back to safety.

 

And then he noticed why.

 

Her eyes.

 

They were two blood red orbs, no discernible iris or pupil in them, just that one color. Despite how disturbing she seemed, her voice reassured him, these lilting tones as she stopped humming and broke out into song.

 

"Er nistet auf gebrochenen Herzen

Geht auf die Jagd für Kuss und Kerzen

Heftet sich fest an deinen Lippen

Dann wühlt durch die Rippen"

 

Her tone was soft, enough that he could barely make out the words she spoke, but the language she spoke was lost on him. His hand brushed the cold steel again, one finger hooking under the blade and slowly beginning to pull the weapon free.

 

"Please don't,"

 

Her words were plain, echoing through the rotunda as she looked directly at him. He froze, eyes wide as she turned toward him, hand beckoning him to stand. He complied, drawing himself to his full height, and stepping out from behind the stand.

 

"Why did you come here? Why come this far?"

 

He was taken aback, mind racing as to why she was asking him such a question.

 

"I came here to find their leader," He boldly stated, hand resting on the axe.

 

"And what will you do when you find him?" She clasped her hands together, letting them hang down over her stomach.

 

"I'm going to kill him,"

 

A look of sorrow flitted across her face, only for a second before she turned and began walking away without a word. Everything screamed danger to him, but he followed her, walking down the deserted streets. She lead him along a zigzagging path to a tall building, covered in the white still, and as she stepped up to the entrance she turned to him.

 

“Why did you come here alone?”

 

“Because I was the only one who wanted to,”

 

Seemingly approving of the answer, she stepped past the broken doors into the building, and he considered running one more time before following her inside. The place was covered inside with the white, crusty strands falling from the ceiling as they walked down the hallway together.

 

It was here that he found what was missing.

 

The rooms on each side had no doors, having been torn off, or left open in the past. Inside lay the shattered eggs, amongst them hung the desiccated corpses of those unfortunate enough to not get away in time. The corpse were mere skeletons with leathery skin stretched over their frames, all insides having been sucked out, and faces still gaping in terror. Just the sight of them reminded him of when the gates opened, and his father blocked them into that room as people tried to run.

 

He still remembered the screams, the deafening cacophony of voices mixed with their strange chittering noises they made, and he had to hold the wall next to him as he warded off the dizzy feeling that washed over him. As his hands brushed the white, the texture of it brought back more memories, those of him and his father tearing the cocoons free, releasing what they’d thought were survivors.

 

They weren’t however; the poison they’d been injected with had melted their insides, and turned them into these bags of liquid that sloshed around as the flopped onto the floor. He’d almost died that day, had his father not covered his mouth to silence his scream, and since then the two of them realized there were no captive survivors.

 

Forcing his eyes open, he bit his lip to avoid screaming at the bodies clawing at his legs. The corpses were moving, feebly dragging themselves along the dirty ground, mouths creaking as they silently pleaded for him to save them. No, no, no, he squeezed his eyes shut again, praying that the damned specters would leave him be. He coughed, tears welling up in his eyes, and he started to hyperventilate.

 

They weren’t going away, he could still feel them pulling at him, and outside he could hear the screams again along with the chittering. His heart was racing now, every bad dream he had was coming true, and he couldn’t handle it. His heart raced faster each second, breath coming quick, and he started shaking like a leaf when she spoke.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

She touched his face gently, and he forced himself to look up at her. The twin crimson orbs weren’t exactly reassuring, but they served as an anchor to pull his mind back to reality. Taking a few deep breaths, he brushed her off, and she gave him that same sorrowful look from earlier as she continued down the hallway.

 

He kept his eyes on her the entire way, blinding himself from the rooms on his sides, and he noticed just how beautiful she was. The dress clung to her form like a second skin, hugging the curves of her hips well, and accentuating a rather supple rear. She was… mesmerizing in a way, seemingly proper and classy, but held this innate seductiveness in every move she made. He found him lost in her form, and he nearly tripped over the first of the stairs.

 

The stairs led up to the top floor, her leading the way of course, and she took the time to ask questions as they climbed.

 

“Do you always go places alone?”

 

“No, usually father is with me,”

 

“Are you two close?”

 

“I suppose,”

 

“Hmmm, how do you suppose?”

 

“We spend time together, but we don’t talk much,”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“He hasn’t talked a lot since the white came,”

 

“Oh… what about your mother, do you two talk?”

 

“No,”

 

She stops for a second, casting a glance back at him.

 

“Why not, is she the same as your father?”

 

“No, she’s dead,”

 

She falters for a second, that sorrowful look coming again, and she lifts her hand of the guard rail, bringing it to her mouth to bite on her thumb.

 

“I’m sorry, must be painful to talk about,”

 

He shrugs, he didn’t know too much about his mother before the gates opened, and after they’d came through she lapsed into a sort of walking coma, dead to the world as his father dragged her settlement to settlement with them. Eventually she’d just gone to sleep one night and didn’t get back up.

 

“It’s alright, she’s better off now father said,”