Chapter 1 My Life
Thief
Chapter 1
My name is John, my last name’s not really important. I'm just another lucky asshole who's slipped through some situations that, honestly, should’ve guaranteed my demise. I suppose I can thank some of my experience and skills to have helped me through my journey. I've spent most of my time alone, and while it was difficult at first, being able to only rely on myself makes me feel a lot less stressed and more comfortable. I hate the idea of having to look after others, or having them look after me.
Life for me has become quite a rhythmic pattern. I've lost count of what year it is, month, week… I can barely remember what the days of the week are. Although anything unimportant such as dates died off a long time ago. Along with the others.
I wasn't much above the average Joe before everything fell apart. I had a simple life, job, good friends. No girl, but I was in the midst of transitioning between real adult life, and postsecondary schooling. Who has time for a relationship during that right?
Fuck, I wouldn't even think about asking a girl out right now even if she was the last female alive. Too much responsibility. Being alone is so much nicer. I guess I've completely absorbed the introverted lifestyle.
Of course I would have to say that I've changed a lot since the apocalypse. I've hardened, physically and psychologically. It almost feels like my personality has been melted down, hammered into a condensed bar, and shoved back inside me. Emotion rarely enters, or leaves me body. I've witnessed things that could break any normal person; make them go insane. I would be lying if I said I haven't gone crazy. I guess I'm really good at controlling it to my favor.
I have no spectacular body type. I've got dirty blonde hair, bordering brown hair that's too fucking long and needs to be cut. Two, deep green eyes sit deep into my sunken sockets. Every wrinkle under my eyes, an event that’s taken a year off my life. I'm probably only about 19 or something, so at least my body is in good shape. Last time I checked my height, I was about 6 feet. Although that was a few years ago...
My day begins with a quick jog up to the freshwater river that runs down from the tall mountains that incase my surroundings. It’s probably safe to admit it's Spring. I haven't seen snow in a while. The fresh, crisp air is the quickest thing to wake me up. Unless I'm about to get munched on by a walking deadman.
I slip out of a small, semi-permanent shelter that I've had standing for quite some time now. Built with the sturdiest birchwood I could find, and a heavy tarp I found one day while on an excursion. I pull my black, dirty and worn cargo pants over my exposed legs. They're just tough enough to withstand most combat, but allow me to run freely. My pants are followed by a pair of dark brown socks, then my aged black runners. Tossing on the rest of my clothing: shirt, jacket, and gloves (all black of course), I remind myself that I should find new clothes. I can only patch up so many holes. The darkness of my clothes has slowly faded over the years, and wither more and more, making them somewhat more adaptable to the environment than when I first wore them.
With my person fully equipped, I start onto the direction of the river with my small 1 strapped bag around my torso, and stainless-steel canteen in hand. It has a little bit of water left inside, which I waste no time in polishing off.
As far as what I use to defend myself, I always do my best to remain quiet. I have ⅔ throwing knives attached to my cargo pants securely. One of them, being misplaced somewhere. Never to be found. I also have a moderately sized combat knife bound to the outside of my pack, for easy access. A handheld hatchet, on the inside, and a shortbow draped around my body. I only have about 4 arrows, that are more for hunting rather than defence. So I have them tightly strapped to my bag as well.
The earth pounds beneath me with every step I take. Delightfully, nothing on my person rattles. I give myself a proud smile for my efforts. The run to the river doesn't take too long, and the sun is a couple hours above the horizon, showering its light on everything around me. I do stay hidden quite well indoors, or at night. But man, do I stick out like a sore thumb in broad daylight.
After I snatch my water, I begin the rest of my day.
There is a town about 10 minutes jog time due south. That’s where I usually start my shenanigans. Sometimes I'll come across something I had missed the previous trip I was there. I continue my jog to my next destination, taking off my jacket and gloves from overheating.
The sun feels hotter today than usual.
Arriving at the small ghost town, I locate the usual place I go to start my small raid. There aren't too many buildings, nor are they very tall. But they're close enough together that jumping between them all makes for quick and easy work.
I stick to the wall of a two storey brick building, that seems to be some sort of motel/restaurant kind of deal, locating a window on the top floor that was conveniently left open by yours truly.
I step several times away from the building, lining up my run with the open window. I stretch my legs, and my arms, and run straight at the vertical wall.
I leap upwards, gluing my right foot against the coarse brick. With the wall accepting my momentum, I drive myself upwards, reaching up for the window. Overtime, this has gotten easier and easier, allowing me to glide up the wall and into the window almost effortlessly.
I peek in through the window frame, looking inside. I tense as I’m immediately met with a walker, nearly right in front of my face. It doesn't take it long for it to notice lunch in front of its face, and it reaches out for me with an angry groan.
Clasping tightly to the window frame, I grasp onto one of the zombie's arms, aggressively tugging it towards me. The walker stumbles heavily at the unexpected grab, falling helplessly out the window. It’s flailing arms attempt to grab me, and although it almost does, it instead plummets to the ground below. It crunches on the hard soil, likely most of its body breaking in multiple places. All I hear are sluggish groans and twitching. But no movement.
Satisfied, I hop into the room.
Drawers that I know I have searched are left open, empty and barren. I search other places, like under beds, mattresses, furniture… places I may not have thought about in the past. I find nothing, as per usual.
The door to the room was wide open, and after scanning the rest of the interior building I can see the front door is also open.
“Well, that explains the walker then…” I mumble to myself. Intending to think in my mind, my lips insist on participating. I find that I talk to myself more and more often… Maybe I am going crazy.
I shut the door quietly and make my way to the next room, spotting a couple other walkers in the downstairs area. I make note to take them out before leaving. No matter how many I kill, they always seem to come back. They have plenty of weaknesses, mostly being slow as hell and not having any intelligence. After using these to my advantage, they're quite simple to deal with. It's the hordes that get you.
As I search the adjacent room, the sound of a truck engine tightens my gut. I quietly sneak over to a window that faces the street and catch a glimpse of a dark blue truck pulling up the road, and parking in front of my building.
I search back down at the walkers, still seeing that they haven't moved much. At least I'll have a distraction if they come in here. If I don't have to deal with these guys, that'd be preferable.
With 3 hopping out of the truck, quite decently armed might I add, they talk for a few seconds, then part their ways. Two of them walk towards the building that I’m in, and the other to a small house just across the street. I pull away from the window as I hear the door slowly creak open and the two people peer in. I remain hidden and quiet, but still keep my eye on the two intruders. My hand slides down to my throwing knives, just in case.
They quickly spot the two walkers, and stay out of sight of them. Completely oblivious to me watching them, studying their every move.
They converse using some basic hand signals, and move into the building. One of them has a suppressed pistol, and holds it up in front of him as he approaches the first walker. I might as well let these guys do the dirty work for me.
He drops the first one, then the second without much of a time interval. Satisfied with their safety, they seem to relaxen a bit. A small smirk crosses my face as I unsheathe my knife and move from my position.
“This building seems like a waste of time.” One of them speaks, holding an MP5 in his right hand as he examines some storage facilities in the kitchen. “Half of these cupboards and drawers are all open, and the ones that are closed are empty as well.”
“Just keep looking. We don't want to miss anything if there is something here. Now go check upstairs.” His friend orders, receiving an aggravated return from his ally.
“Whatever.” He grunts, locating the stairs to get to the second level, and making his way over to them.
He starts up the stairs, his heavy steps causing the wooden steps beneath his feet to creak and groan horridly. Once at the top, he opens the door to the first room he sees.
With his weapon readied, he pokes into the room to scan the surroundings.
I hold my breath as I watch the door open to my right. I remain hidden behind it, and ready my knife as I see the barrel of his gun poke through. Once his body is visible, I begin my attack.
I yank the barrel of the gun away from him, and spear my knife into his neck. His mouth and eyes jump open in surprise, but he barely has the effort to cry out before I have him grappled against my own body. In a fit of shock, his body releases the gun with ease, and only twitches as a means of fighting back. I place the gun on the ground softly, and cover his mouth with my now free hand. I feel my clothes soak to my skin with his blood, but I keep my hold on him until all signs of life stop.
My knife slides out of his neck like a finger being pulled out of silly putty; a wet, suction sound. I leave their corpse on the ground momentarily, turning my focus to the next victim downstairs. I'm about to exit the room when I hear crackling of static coming from the dead man's body.
*“Hey, the ground floor seems clear. I haven't found much of anything. How about you?”*
I reach into his goried jacket, pulling out a small, black walkie talkie. I bring it up to my lips, unsure of what to say.
*“...Hello? You there?”*
“*Ahem*,” I clear my throat. Looking at the body, I do my best to impersonate what their voice would sound like. “Y-Yeah, I ain't got nothing up here either.”
There is a short pause.
*“You okay man? Your voice sounds different.”*
What the hell am I doing?
I walk into the doorway, hucking the radio equipment into the downstairs lobby area. The back of it breaks off, and batteries scatter and roll across the ground.
“What the hell?” I hear from downstairs. I move along the wall, crouched down as much as I can as to not be seen.
He steadily approaches the broken walkie, weapon raised to make sure of no undead. I take the opportunity to move swiftly up behind him and take him out.
A creak in the floor reveals my position, and he swings around to face me just as fast as I make the sound. I grab his armed hand, keeping the pistol aimed away from me. A bullet fires out from it, and goes straight into the floorboards. He resorts to his other hand, clenched into a fist as he drives it across my face.
I fade out of and back into consciousness in a split second from the punch. He goes to swing a second time, and my head weaves out of the way of it's path. I jab my knife into his side, earning a sharp yelp from him.
That definitely got the last guy's attention.
With my knife still in his side, I knee him hard in the stomach. Pulling the knife out, I take no time in driving it straight into his eye socket. Another scream escapes his mouth, but softer, and was cut off sooner as my knife punches all the way into his cranium. His yell is slowly silenced into a gurgle.
I know his friend is coming, and I jerk the pistol out of the hand of the second raider to find cover as soon as I could.
Just as I suspect, the last man bursts through the doors, a shotgun aimed and loaded in his hands.
“...Oh god… Oh fuck!”
He remains stationed in a defensive position aiming around the room while also looking at the dead corpse of his friend with a knife through his skull.
“Who the fuck - Show yourself! Come out you piece of shit!” He now walks further into the room, anger surging through his veins as he prepared to shoot at anything that moves.
I hold the pistol tight in my hand. I hope what little practice I have with firearms pays off...
I stay hidden behind the wall, pistol aimed up. Ready to fire as soon as I see his face poke in-
The sounds of groaning and footsteps at the door redirect both of our attention to the main entrance. I didn't see how many, but at least a few walkers must have entered.
“God damn it!” I can hear him turn around and begin firing his shotgun into the crowd. The gunshots ring in my ears, but I take the opportunity to reveal myself around the corner.
There were 3 walkers that had entered, but it was enough to distract the guy. I walk up behind him, to get a point blank shot on his head instead of risking a ranged shot.
He drops to the ground with a heavy thump, the walkers now drawing towards me.
I aim steadily and fire at the last two that he didn't kill. It was obvious that I was out of practice. It took me two shots to kill the first one, and one to kill the last; only because it was so close.
The shotgun blast is certain to attract whatever or whoever is left in this town, so I rush to search the bodies for anything useful. After shutting and locking the door, of course.
He has a backpack on, and I smile as my eyes meet an almost full box of medical equipment inside. I throw the backpack over my shoulders, only having it for the supplies inside. I also conveniently find the keys to the truck in his back pocket. There's bound to be some good stuff the truck, if not I have an escape route.
I head back upstairs, looking out one of the second storey windows. I don’t see any other walkers, so after opening the window I hop down to the ground and rush over to the truck.
There is a 6 pack of water bottles, all full, and a full gas tank in the truck. Those are the things that are actually useful. After thinking for a second, I come together with a small plan. If I grab all of my stuff for camp with this truck, I can drive off somewhere else and better. This town is becoming pretty barren anyways.
I pull out the keys from earlier, and sit in the driver’s seat after checking the rest of the truck for anyone or anything. There is a dirt pathway that goes close by where I had camp set up, so after revving up the engine I zoom down the road.
I park where it was close enough to camp, but still have to walk a little ways into the forest to find my camp. I don't have too much at my camp, some extra water bottles, rope, other clothes and such. Most importantly the tarp. I’m able to carry basically everything in my arms, so I head back to the truck.
It’s… gone.
And it’s not like someone has taken it, the road was gone too. I turn around in utter confusion. The place where I had set up camp has disappeared. I blink once and when I open my eyes again, everything was so much darker.
What the hell is this?
I turn around again. And again. Every time I do so, my surroundings seem to change more and more. I can’t keep track of where I am, as everything seems to keep changing behind my back. I bite the inside of my cheek, laughing to myself as if this was some kind of joke.
I have no choice but to walk, walk in a direction that I didn’t know of. After a long time of walking, the forest seems to go on forever. I let out a sigh of relief as I spot the dirt road again, though it seems to be in the middle of it, so it went 2 ways.
I choose and go left, walking down the pathway silently. After a few more
minutes which seemed like forever, I start to see the entrance to a small town.
Still outraged that I somehow managed to lose the truck, I drop my carried belongings behind a tree. After scampering up into it, I get a decent look over the town. Time had almost seemed to change, as if I had jumped forwards several hours. It was dark already.
With no other plan in mind, and with time still available, I leap back down from the tree and decide to investigate the town. I scurry along the treeline, and dash towards the closest home.
The house looked strangely different. The walls were completely wooden, and the roof was covered in real straw with some more wood under it. I’ve never really seen anything like it before, but it was a different town I guess. My eyes lead to a tall tree, which now to my thoughts look like a giant tree house, and I make that my first house to search.
Making sure there is noone around to see me, I sneak towards the house and to the back door. Usually I would go for heights with searching houses, but this house looks and feels uncomfortably different and I don’t want to take any risks. I look through a window and around in the house, and confirm it to be a library.
I silently open the door and saunter inside, scanning the room as I do so. Nothing is to be seen. No damage is done to the place; nor the town for that matter. Hopefully people thrive here, meaning lots of supplies to have here. I softly close the door behind me and sneak through the house, checking cabinets and shelves but mostly finding books.
As I’m passing by things, I spot a clock, and it reads: 1:34 AM.
What on Earth? There’s no way it’s that late already… There’s something going on here. I’m probably dreaming or something…
After searching most of the bottom floor, I suddenly hear snoring come from upstairs, making that my next place to move to. I sneak up the stairs, and down to a wall as I suddenly hear the snoring stop, in a way sounding like the person was waking up. I jump away from the wall, knife in hand, getting ready to take out whoever woke up, and freeze when I see who it is. Or more what it is.
A small creature awakens, rubbing it’s eyes to look at me, eyes wide. I nearly drop my knife as I hear it speak. “T…T-Twilight?! TWILIGHT!!” It yells out, though it fades as I jump the stairs and land in a quick roll at the bottom. I hear someone else wake up in a panic. The lights flicker on.
“Spike?! What’s wrong?!” I hear a female voice yell as I sprint from the house and back into the forest, my thoughts clouded and disoriented, added together with adrenaline.
After a few long minutes of sprinting away, and thinking about what I had just seen, I find a tree that’s easy enough to climb up and still be hidden from the road. I take one last glance behind me, still breathing hard.
I force my breathing into a more steady pace as I continue to stare at the town I just came from.
“...It’ll all be fixed in the morning.” I speak to myself as I head for the tree, disappearing off the path.
It fuckin’ better be fixed.
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Darkson? "Son of the dark"? Really?
You do know that black actually tends to stand out in shadows as being too dark, right? Dark blue and dark green tend to be more effective for night-time camouflage.
The word you want is "holster". Or since it's a knife, just "sheathe" will do.
Paragraph after paragraph of what a skilled survivor and incredible combatant your protagonist is... how is this any different from any other badass Human in Equestria story?
Did anyone see the assassins creed symbol on his jacket in the picture?
Noice. Mustache for you, my friend.
notice to anyone reading: it gets better
7446298
It better cause at this point its looks pretty poor
It literally just made him fight retarded people to make the character look good
I really love this! Really interesting and great writing! You're super talented! It doesnt matter that its "unoriginal" or theres some misspelled words because if writing makes you happy then keep doing it and dont listen to what anyone else says.