Prologue

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Dusty grey sneakers shuffled down the sidewalk of the ruined city. Dark, unwashed jeans and a navy blue sweater, which was covered in dry scarlet splatters, completed the look. A red emergency axe and a black backpack were slung over the figure's back.

The owner of the clothes looked around the fallen world around them. Buildings that had housed hundreds of families and workers sat empty. Lights flickered, but really didn't illuminate the dreary sight. The person stopped walking, and looked down.

At their feet, laid a rotting body of a little boy. He looked to be about six or seven. The corpse was curled up, as if he had been hugging his knees when he had died. He was missing part of his ribcage. The human shook their head sadly and kept walking.

Phone lines were out, and the internet was no more. No one had communicated with their family since this madness began. This new hellish reality that everyone had fought through, though very few lasted long.

The navy-donning figure looked from side to side, before turning into a run down old tattoo parlor. It was warm inside, and light too. Sure, there wasn't internet or working phone lines, but at least electricity was still available.

The tattoo place was cramped, dusty, and had a large pink painting that said "B x M" on the back wall in curly letters. Papers, most likely tattoo designs, were scattered all over the dirty floor. All of them were slightly different versions of a vaguely familiar 'M' on a hand in red.

'Huh. Someone has a bigger obsession with Markiplier than I do. I wonder if he's..'

The human sighed, exhausted. No matter how hard anyone tried to push it away, that question remained. That one, dreaded question. 'I wonder if they're alive..'

The figure pulled down their hood, revealing the beautiful face of a young female. She slumped down onto the nearest tattoo chair. It squeaked, and stunk of something like cheap hair dye. To the person the chair held however, it was heaven.

'Never thought that a junky tattoo chair would be a great place to nap, but I need to rest..' She thought, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber. Well, peaceful until she was so rudely awoken by a deep, male voice.

"There! That's her!"

The world was silent, except for three pairs of shoes scuffling closer.

'Maybe if I don't move, they'll think I'm dead.'

"Hey, are you dead?" Asked a loud, higher voice. Silence.

"If she was dead, she wouldn't answer, idiot." The deep voice snapped. He sounded.. Familiar. A third male voice added input.

"Uh, guys, I think I just saw her smile a little."

"Shut up, Wade."

"We don't have weapons, okay? We just wanna know if you've seen some people." Wade frantically explained.

"I've seen lots of people." The girl answered not bothering to open her eyes.

"Any of them named Molly, or Sean? Oh, I'm Mark, and this is Tyler and Wade." The deep voice replied.

'I knew it!'

"Nice names. I think I know you from before all this."

"YouTube?"

"Eyup." The girl in navy opened her eyes and sat upright.

"What's your name?" Tyler asked, swallowing when he watched the female stand up, and place a hand on her axe.

"(Y/n), nice to meet you."

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