Battle of Ash

Chapter 9

"End of the human race is just part of an endless life cycle."
Toba Beta

2017.03.27 17:32
Ash opened her eyes. She felt hot and cold and stiff and... musty; like she had been sweating for hours on end. She rubbed at her eyes, getting the grime out of them. Absently she looked at the ceiling; the bubbled, grainy texture was stained an orange color by the light outside. It was either incredibly early or pretty late. Her body ached without her moving. She delicately tried to lift her arm, wincing as her muscles screamed in dull pain.

Possibly a fever? She looked around, her mind jumping with a jolt.

When had she fallen asleep?! She sat quickly, her whole body swimming in protest as she did. Her head spun, little lights exploding before her eyes as she tried to wait for the dizziness to pass. Slowly she set her feet on the ground, wincing as the skin cracked with the pressure of her weight against the hardwood floor. She surveyed the room.

It was pretty big, an antiqued dresser against the wall with a large oval mirror, make-up and bullets were spread over the top, along with a deep smudged layer of dust. On the walls were paintings of flowers and scenic outings; also covered in dust. One painting in the far corner was askew; blood smeared down the wall and spattered across the image.

Ash's nerves pricked, but she was alone. Cautiously, carefully she made her way across the rug and sat before the mirror. She carefully touched her blistered and broken skin, her lips had been ravaged, now nothing more than dried peaks and bloodied crevasses. Her hair was a disastrous mess, and every inch of her was filthy. She vaguely remembered being cleaned. How awful had she been before that?

A hand slapped to her mouth as a sob wrenched from her chest. Tears streaked down her face for only a few seconds; her body wasn't able to produce the moisture needed for her to cry. She placed her head against the cool countertop, feeling a shiver run down her spine. A slight knocking and thump came from the closed door, but she didn't care. She didn't bother to turn around or look.

The image of the dried blood flashed against her closed eyes, followed closely by Ellie's lifeless body and the sight of Colton's brains flying through the air. She didn't move as the door opened, as the footsteps came closer. It wasn't until a hand rested on her forehead that she jumped back, nearly screaming, her left hand grabbing the wrist of the offender and her right hand thrust blindly forward, clamping its fingers around the throat of the person.

"Let me go!"

Immediately she dropped her hands, shaking from adrenaline and shock. It was a boy. No, not a boy but the voice she had heard. He'd been caring for her. She took him in. He was soft like most boys were, though nicely developed, if a little too skinny. Like he hadn't been eating well or something had been haunting him. She knew that feeling.

She looked down at her bandaged feet and felt guilt wash over her.

"I'm sorry." She offered, her voice sounded brittle, "I'm not used to people-"

"I-It's okay-" He began, but a little blur streaked across the room, leaping on the bed and spitting at Ash. "Socks!" The boy scolded.

"A-a cat?!" Ash felt incredulous, "Do you know what those things can do?"

He shook his head, his shaggy brown hair flopping around his angular face, "It's not just cats though, it's all animals. All mammals anyway. B-but that's beside the point- Socks isn't sick."

The cat mewled and curled up on the bed, contenting himself with licking one grey and white paw.

"Who are you and what happened to me?" Ash carefully made her way to the bed, crawling back up in it, wincing as her body protested all the movement.