Location - Quarantine Zone || Wearing
_________________________________________________
_________________________________________________
The six foot two male stood in the middle of Quarantine Zone, his blonde hair stained with the off-colour blood of his fallen foe. The more time that he spent in this hellish zone of the city, the more able he was to kill the creatures that posed a greater challenge. He stared down at the sword in his grasp, the hilt slick with gore. He preferred the blade. There was something traditional about it. It helped him to ease into this life, to think that he had somehow stepped into the past, or into some alternate universe. He could just be reading a book – though zombie books had never much appealed to him. He preferred the classics. War and Peace.
But this was not some romanticised story about war. It was real life. And he was a vampire. A vampire, killing zombies in a quarantined zone of a city that he had recently started to call home. He had distracted himself with the things that he’d had to learn; he had retreated enough into ordinariness to ignore the grandness of it all. He worked, he still played the piano. He remained a mystery to the humans he met, and he had not yet socialised beyond the company of his sire.
Now, as he stared down at the sword in his hand and the body of the zombie at his feet, he could feel the foundations shifting again. He had come so far – not too long ago he was in Brussels. Not too long ago it was his Alaya’s birthday; he had been there for it, in his last week before everything crumbled around him. He had given her a toy bow and arrow. Even at such a young age she was feisty; she did not adhere to the girlish stereotype. She did not want dolls or unicorns. She wanted a bow and arrow. He remembered how she felt, that small frail body of hers, as he held her in a tight hug.
Would he ever see her again?
And just like that, he sighed. He lost all enthusiasm for what he had been doing. Blue eyes swept the interior of the Quarantine Zone, bathed in dim light and decrepit, like the life he had left behind. It haunted him, like these buildings would haunt the city they stood within. He had goals for his future – but would his past ever allow him to enjoy it?
At the moment, he had his doubts.
But this was not some romanticised story about war. It was real life. And he was a vampire. A vampire, killing zombies in a quarantined zone of a city that he had recently started to call home. He had distracted himself with the things that he’d had to learn; he had retreated enough into ordinariness to ignore the grandness of it all. He worked, he still played the piano. He remained a mystery to the humans he met, and he had not yet socialised beyond the company of his sire.
Now, as he stared down at the sword in his hand and the body of the zombie at his feet, he could feel the foundations shifting again. He had come so far – not too long ago he was in Brussels. Not too long ago it was his Alaya’s birthday; he had been there for it, in his last week before everything crumbled around him. He had given her a toy bow and arrow. Even at such a young age she was feisty; she did not adhere to the girlish stereotype. She did not want dolls or unicorns. She wanted a bow and arrow. He remembered how she felt, that small frail body of hers, as he held her in a tight hug.
Would he ever see her again?
And just like that, he sighed. He lost all enthusiasm for what he had been doing. Blue eyes swept the interior of the Quarantine Zone, bathed in dim light and decrepit, like the life he had left behind. It haunted him, like these buildings would haunt the city they stood within. He had goals for his future – but would his past ever allow him to enjoy it?
At the moment, he had his doubts.
