𝐅𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬... ❧ ᴏᴅᴜ / ɴᴄ & ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🥀 S2 Prologue; Numbness

❧

The click of my gun running out of bullets causes me to let out a frustrated grunt as I quickly take cover behind the rubble of what was once a house.
         I reach into one of the pouches on my belt– grabbing a handful of the bronze cartridges like they're the most precious thing ever and lifting them up towards the gun's magazine.
         A sudden blast of a bomb from behind me throws my body forward; and like a ragdoll I'm tumbled over the ground that's covered in glass and other debris.
         Everything I held onto previously flies over the ground in different directions, only straining my patience more.
        Aches and pains tingle uncomfortably all over my body; yet I can't let things like that make my falter.
       "I'm a soldier... An operative- a war machine," I repeat these words in my mind as I get to my feet, looking down to see a huge sliver of wood sticking out of my armor.
         I sigh in relief once I know it hasn't reached the flesh of my thigh- I yank it out and throw it to the ground, which I continue to scan in hopes of spotting the magazine to my gun.
        The moment I finally find it amongst the dirt and stones, the screams of a civilian are heard. I whip my head up after picking up the important piece of my weapon, just in time to see a young woman running down the alleys from a [NIGHT] operative; one with a crown of bones upon its head.
          In her arms is an infant, held close to her chest as tears stream down the mother's cheeks.
"Help me! Please!"

Gun or no gun, I can't bear to see her and her baby die at the hands of the ruthless beast.
         I understand that in my armor and the disease riddling my skin makes me no less scary than the thing behind her, but I feel in awe of the sudden sparkle of trust in her eyes when she realizes I'm a Days Union operative.
         I grab my gun, forgetting about the magazine as I dash forward; even without bullets it still makes for a blunt force object– and in mere seconds I put myself between the young lady and the beast.
         It makes no indication of slowing down, if anything it only picks up speed.
         I dig my boots into the rubble, deeply rooting myself to the earth to brace myself for a rough impact.
         Yet the impact I prepare myself for never comes, instead the whoosh of the creature athletically leaping over me is what I feel; and I spin around in utter shock.
         But I don't let myself continue the feeling before I'm already grabbing hold of the monster's tail before it can reach the woman.
         It lets out a startled snarl as I yank on it, which brings its body sliding past me. In the next few seconds I raise my fist and throw it into the creature's skull.
         An agonized squawk escapes its mouth as it falls to the ground; its body quaking in pain.
         While this would've killed any normal person or monster– it is not the case for a Night operative; in a few moments it will regain full consciousness again.
         I scoop up the woman bridal style and run into the labyrinth of alleyways. A blank look ingrained on my face as I listened to the bombs shatter the residences in the neighborhood behind us.
         Another part of our once great city, now reduced to rubble and corpses...

I finally make it to the hospital, which we've been using as a bunker.
         A guard lets me in and I drop off the woman with the rest of the survivors.
         "Thank you... Thank you so much," she trembles, tears in her eyes as she rocks her child in her arms.
         I give her a weak smile, not that she can see it anyway behind my mask– before fetching her some water.
         Once she is situated amongst the others, I head deeper into the pit of the hospital, where I hear a fight escalating.
         So much so that I can feel the vibrations of their shouts and things being thrown through the walls and floor.
         I get to the door, and as much as I wanted to go in straight away to mediate the situation; I stand outside of it and wait– it isn't like I don't know what they're fighting about already.