Patrick Stump Imagines 2

The Last Of The Real Ones

A/N: Inspired by the song and its video. Accidentally deleted the note where I wrote the beginning of this chapter while I was rewriting it here,..so guess it's not as good as it could have been since I can't remember what I wrote word for word.

The man wandered in the streets of this abandoned city. Sweaty and out of breath, he looked around him, seeing the word "humans" written on the walls and carved in the concrete, as if it had been written in it once wet. This word marked the ground and walls of this city since the last century.

The dirty blond man was walking fast, breathing heavily. He couldn't stop looking behind him, scared that The Waves was just at his heels.

The Waves were mutant creatures who looked like animals. They invaded Earth a long time ago and took the control of its population, the Real Ones, or what they like to call them "the human breed". Some people believe that the Real Ones had created The Waves. And others believe they came from the stars.

And now, about a hundred years after they arrived, the human breed is almost extinct. In fact, The Waves either kill or make the Real Ones their slaves.

The mother and father of this man, Patrick, were slaves. He was separated from them when he was just a little kid and had traveled throughout the country to different slave camps his whole life. He managed to escape a few times but they always found him again. Burning his chest and back with their mark as a punishment.

He had managed to escape once again. He ran for miles looking for a safe place to hide and found this city with no sign of life except for the old graffiti dating from during tThe Waves War, and what used to be publicity signs on the facade of the buildings. The vegetation had regained its rights on the city. Walls and ground were covered in green moss. Grass had found its way through the cracks of the concrete and trees had grown, giving the city kind of a jungle atmosphere.

He walked out of an alleyway and was instantly pushed against the wall by someone, their hand on his mouth, stopping him from screaming.

The man had closed his eyes in fear and was trying to scream, but his voice was only muffled by the person's hand.

"Stop whining," The rather soft voice ordered.

Patrick opened his eyes, letting a few tears roll down his cheeks. His bluish green eyes widened as he saw the woman in front of him.

She was just a bit shorter than him with long curly dark hair. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

She was looking around, not glancing at him even once, "Shut up, they're close."

The dirty blond nodded eagerly and brought his hand up to her wrist, moving her hand from his face, "We should probably go somewhere safe then."

She glanced at him and looked him up and down. Her heart stopped for a second when she saw his eyes. She slowly nodded her head, muttered a yes then started walking away, Patrick followed close behind her.

"Who are you?" She blurted out.

"Um, Patrick, I'm a slave," He caught up to her, now walking beside her, "And you?" He tilted his head to the side, trying to find her eyes.

"Elisa, I used to be a slave too," She quickly glanced at him.

"Used to be?" He retorted, now intrigued.

"I escaped years ago and found this group of rebels, but unfortunately they found us. You're lucky. You escaped just in time." She told him and kept on walking.

"Wait," He grabbed her arm, making her stop in her tracks. She faced him with teary eyes, and he had this hurt look on his face when seeing her like that, "What do you mean?"

"They're done with slaves. They don't need us anymore," His eyebrows knitted in confusion and she wiped a tear from her face.

"So what are they going to do?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Well, what they did to all the others!" She almost shouted at him, "They're going to kill us. They already killed my group, they needed me and I wasn't there," She paced in front of him, tears rolling down her face.

Patrick stood there in shock, his mouth agape

She stopped pacing and faced him, "We're the last of the real ones, Patrick."

"I need you right now, we-we need each other," He told her, "We can still find a safe place where they won't find us."

Elisa shook her head, "We can't."

"But-" He stepped closer to her but was interrupted by the roaring of a creature. Elisa and Patrick spun their heads to see one of The Waves. The two of them started running but the creature was running toward them.

Patrick was tackled to the ground at the same time as Elisa. His head hit the ground, knocking him out.

He woke up an hour later, laying on the dusty ground in the middle of nowhere. A bag covered his head and he could only see a bright yellow light and feel the heat of the fire in front of him. His hands were tied together in front of him.

"Don't hurt him, please," He heard Elisa beg. The sound of footsteps got closer and stopped in front of him. The creature hit him in the stomach and he cried in pain.

"Oh, looks like he's awake," The creature laughed with its inhuman voice. It grabbed Patrick's upper arm and lifted him up so he was sitting on his legs. It took the bag of Patrick's face and smiled at him devilishly.

The creature walked away to a car parked a few feet behind Patrick. He looked around and saw nothing but vegetation and no other sign of life or The Waves.

He looked in front of him at Elisa, tears blurring both of their visions. He tried to say something but couldn't form a word. The more he looked at her and the more his shaking subsided.

The creature came back with a shovel and walked toward Elisa.

"No, don't touch her!" Patrick screamed at the beast, as if all fear had been drained from him.

The creature turned around and walked toward him, "Alright, you'll be the first." It stopped in front of him, the shovel in its hands.

Patrick looked down and muttered, "I'm sorry Elisa, but you are the last of the real ones," The dirty blond jumped to his feet, and ran into the creature, tackling it into the big firepit in front of him.

A/N: Well,..that sucks..