#— d. june 30th 2044

[nelefinn]

     𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 [2/𝟸] 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶, 𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙴 𝟹𝟶𝚃𝙷, 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙴𝚇𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚁.

     Smoke billowed into the dark sky, a grey monstrosity gaping its maws at the stars. It filled the air with the scent of charcoal and sulfur, hair from the corpses below sparking in the flames. Nele reached back to retie the bandana covering the lower half of her face, wiping her hands on her thighs before she bent down to haul another body into the fire. This was one she recognized more than most, though she’d never gotten to know her well. Marseline. Too young. Her features are nearly unrecognizable, half her face chewed to the bone, though even if she didn’t reconize her, the supple youth of what remained was enough to know it was too soon. Nele knelt, lifting her stiff and heavy torso to pile it over her shoulder, a low grunt escaping her as she stood. It was odd, how little she felt, how the smell of burning bodies didn’t make her stomach turn. She was encased in ice, her warm center put into hibernation, and she couldn’t recall exactly when that had happened. She’d been so young when it happened, but she’d lived some before, so why did it seem so far away?

     Because it was. It was a faint shadow in her past, so indiscernible she forgot it even existed. So pale, she was able to burn the dead with no reaction. She knew it wasn’t right; she knew she was supposed to feel more, but she simply… didn’t. A light sigh was the only reaction given before she tossed the young woman in with the rest, eyes squinting against the harsh smoke as she watched her torn clothing burst into flame. And then, she did feel something. White, hot anger to match the fire — because how had they let this happen? And yet, didn’t it always come to this?

     Nele wiped her forearm over her furrowed brow, her gloved hands and shirt decorated with smeared blood, the crimson on her neck glistening as it mixed with sweat. A crunch behind her; the sound of a footfall, and she turned her head, peering over her shoulder to see who was approaching. Most of the others had taken a break — and most of the others preferred a different clean-up job — but Nele had kept working, because sitting still, even for nourishment, wasn’t an option. She’d keep moving until she was spent, until the idea of sleeping on the crowded mall floors seemed a bit more enticing. Until the rage leapt into the fire with the corpses. Until she could breathe. 

     “You happen to bring back out anything from snack time?”

[nelefinn]

𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙾 (@sommersanso​.) 𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙾𝙾𝙽, 𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙴 𝟹𝟶𝚃𝙷, 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙻.

     The interior floods with the sound of gargling screeches, punctuated by the sharp clap of gunfire. There’s shrieks of fear, some cut off, some gurgling as some flooded with blood. Nele doesn’t need to hear the wet crunching to know what it sounds like when someone is being eaten. Her boots slap against the tile as she races toward an abandoned shop that has gates leading outdoors. They have to be closed; immediately. Someone appears in her peripheral at her side and she keeps pounding forward, racing into the store — now used for storage — then slamming the door shut behind her as soon as the other passes through. Now, she recognizes Anso, a scowl appearing on her features as she slams her back against the door to hold it closed, “Grab that dumpster from outside. Roll it over here.” She shoves him away from her and toward the half opened gate, her attention refocusing on the shelves in front of her. 

     If she lets go, they come in. But the dumpster has wheels and they need something to keep it in place. One of the old metal shelves will do, and frustration begins to bubble up — how the fuck did this happen? — closing her throat as it climbs to the back of tongue, sitting there like a tiny weight. They’re slamming against the door behind her, her body jerking forward as she fights against their force; stronger and stronger with each passing minute. “We need to close that gate too,” she says, voice low and it wasn’t an order as much as it was announcing the tasks at hand. And a bit of underestimating her current company. Though that wasn’t anything new.

     The heft behind her lets up some as she hears the cry of one of them, but Nele doesn’t have the ammo on her to open that fucking door. “After we get the fuck out.” It’d be easier to take out more of them from the roof. It’d be easier if they could make it to the mall armory and get her hands on a damn assault rifle. Of course, this had to be the day she didn’t carry one with her.