Thread: Dead Winter (Anjeru and I)

The racket filtered through the house, echoing almost sharply. The half dozing woman snapped to attention, her head pounding at the sudden movement due to the stiffness in her neck from the position she had unintentionally fallen asleep in. The word didn't register. All she knew was that there was someone - something -in the safehouse she had bunkered down in a day ago - or was it two, maybe three days keeping track of the days, was becoming exceedingly difficult. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest, causing it to tighten almost painfully. The world had gone to hell with absolutely no warning. She had been a normal teenager about to graduate from high school, when suddenly her classmates were tearing each other apart. Teachers were feeding off them. Her family, too. And those creatures weren't even the worst...there were the ones that pounced, ones with long and grotesque tongues that coughed like lifelong smokers, whimpering women who glowed an unnatural red, and one...very big motherfucker that took out everything in its path, undead or alive. On walls of safehouses, she had heard of more, but she could safely say that she didn't want to run across anymore. Why won't they go away? The eighteen year old had been deathly quiet up here. No, seriously. She barely allowed herself to breathe. So how had the horde found her here? Gunshots rang out in the cold, silencing some of the zombies that had become some noisy outside. Screeching of a Hunter almost had her covering her ears to shut out the eerie noise she had come to despise. She heard the porch give under the ruckus and clutched her P220 pistol like her life depended on it, which it did in this newly developed hell on Earth. The door she had come in suddenly slammed open, then shut just as quickly, leaving the undead to paw at the metal door without hope of reaching their new meal. She swallowed thickly and pushed her trembling body up from the corner where she had been hidingshe was certain she was shivering from the cold, as well as the fear. Keeping the pistol close to her, she edged forward, her finger almost itchy in its need to pull the trigger deep breath, it's not like she wanted to kill anyone else who had managed to survive this hell. As she came toward the stair way, the voice filtered up, altering her to the fact that the intruder was indeed human. Her relief was palpable to say the least. The pistol was held at her side, though not threateningly any longer. H-hello? Her voiced trembled and she swallowed, moving to stand at the railing to peek over it. The 5'4 teen, slim and toned, with tumbling curls of raven stood there, trying her best to see down the stairs into the main room of the first floor. There was someone here. W-who's there? I'm coming down, so don't shoot. She held her pistol out away from her and started down the stairs, ceasing at the bottom to find the man with her bright emerald eyes. Oh man...there actually is someone else alive... A brief, relieved smile curled her pale lips, the dim light in the safehouse highlighting her pale skin. She wore a pair of black jeans, torn and shredded in several places, a black v neck long sleeved shirt, and shin high combat boots. She looked like any average teen, save the fact that that wasn't even what she was now she was the same as he - a survivor. For now.