The Maze trial's a success. But the scorch won't be going anywhere. Cranks fill the endless sea of sand, cities turned to ruin, more and more people becoming infected. The world is ending.
Lara has been running from W.C.K.D her whole life, at least...
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No one knows whether a person is truly good or evil. People do bad things for the greater good, for people who can't come to enjoy the wonders of the world we live in - it's in a humans nature to cure that. So does that make them a bad person? Does that make us loathe them, resent them, label them as such without letting them repent or amend for their sins?
In this case, to fight evil you have to understand the dark, the dark that surrounds us constantly gripping us in it's tight slippery grasp, refusing to let go. This monster, this demon has a name in this world we've found ourselves in.
W.C.K.D.
And they will do everything and anything to cure the world, harming young people, to help the greater good and save the past.
When we're the ones who need saving.
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Wisps of wind rushed past my ears at a trembling speed mixed with the yells of desperation and the screeching of cranks.
The walls around me were worn, years of mould and grime covering its surface. The bleak ochre paint scratched and ripped revealing a greying coat of white underneath. The building was old, much like the rest of the city, years of sand and heat etching away it's beauty. But unlike the city, people - real people were here within these walls, surviving. That's all anyone can do these days, you're either the hunter or the hunted.
I rushed around a corner, the bubbling feeling of adrenaline coursing through my veins which was really the only thing keeping me on my course. After a few more turns and dodging loose debris I finally made my way though a rusted door before eyeing the first crank at the back of a herd at the other end of the hall.
I secured my grip on the wooden bat which rested in my hands, the weapon being the only comfort I had, the only thing I truly felt a connection to. The perfect substitute weapon to a gun.
Silently I ran up behind the back crank, careful not to make noise and alert it. This one seemingly had a broken leg, half of a bone poking out of an old wound, dried blood sticking it's trousers to the body. These things are too fast to take on all at once but if there are any unlucky stragglers they're less of a hassle. I swung the bat as fast and hard as humanly possible, hitting the crank square in the back of the head, it's flesh ripping off exposing the skull as ink black blood poured down from the wound. It plunged to the ground, no longer moving its rotten corpse as the yells of people continued past the door where more cranks were trying to get in.
"Hey, boneheads" I yelled catching the attention of the rest of the herd. "Don't look at them, look at me" with that yell I realised I should've probably planned my escape as the herd started swarming their way towards my small frame, leaving the door with the trapped people free for an escape. "Ah shit" I cursed as I ran like a wildfire spreading through dead trees.
