When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
Zima opened her eyes but saw nothing but a grey blur, as if the world was covered with a thick blanket of mist or smoke. Her nose twitched; it did not smell like smoke but there was something else, a smell she hardly knew penetrated the vile ordure of the necromorphs. She could not describe it other than with one word, clean. The smells she knew most of her life were notably absent, the smell of smog, smoke, and decay. She lifted her upper body from the ground, she grunted in pain as her arms tried to support her. It was as if a knife kept jabbing her in her side, and she could not bear any weight upon her left arm. Her vision was still a haze, she could not even see her arm when she held it right in front of her face. As her teeth clenched, to turn the focus from her pain, she felt a throbbing at the sides of her face. She moved her left hand to touch it, ignoring the pain with the arm. Her fingers softly stroke her cheeks, she hissed in agony and could feel her heartbeat for a moment in her fingers. Her skin was normally decently smooth, except for the occasional cut, bruise, or other blemish but now it was gashed, viscous and fiery. Whenever it was burned or clawed at, she did not know.
A low growl was heard, somewhere in the distance. Something behind her responded with a snarl. Zima could hear creatures walking around her. Ghouls, thought the veteran, she didn’t have to think it; she would never mistake the dreaded creatures she had fought against for so long. Her right hand grabbed the grip of her M1911 and pulled it out of the holster on her chest. She cocked the pistol and held it in front of her to see. This world was still a blur around her, but she could start to make out her arm and gun from the grey fog. Her hard beat began to accelerate, a surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins. It has been a long time since she had felt… this stirred. She felt a glee.
She blinked a couple of time and her vision became clearer, everything within a few dozen meters was vaguely visible. The shapes promenading ghouls where visible, they walked aggressively but slower as they used too. Where they also afflicted by this vision, she wondered. She looked at her left underarm and saw bite marks, dozens of them. ”Shit,” said out loud, fack, I shouldn’t have. The sound of growls and howls was deafening. Two shapes ran at her, she aimed her pistol; in how far one can aim at charging vague blobs of darkness. Four times’s she squeezed the trigger, how many of them hit she was not sure about, but the minimum was two as both creatures came crashing down. One of the slid forwards and stopped at her boots. ”Come on fuckers,” shouted ashen-blonde on the top of her lungs as she jumped up. ”Who wants to die with me!” she was bitten, more than once. She would become like them, so she might as well have some fun now before she would end her life before she transforms.
A low growl was heard, somewhere in the distance. Something behind her responded with a snarl. Zima could hear creatures walking around her. Ghouls, thought the veteran, she didn’t have to think it; she would never mistake the dreaded creatures she had fought against for so long. Her right hand grabbed the grip of her M1911 and pulled it out of the holster on her chest. She cocked the pistol and held it in front of her to see. This world was still a blur around her, but she could start to make out her arm and gun from the grey fog. Her hard beat began to accelerate, a surge of adrenaline rushed through her veins. It has been a long time since she had felt… this stirred. She felt a glee.
She blinked a couple of time and her vision became clearer, everything within a few dozen meters was vaguely visible. The shapes promenading ghouls where visible, they walked aggressively but slower as they used too. Where they also afflicted by this vision, she wondered. She looked at her left underarm and saw bite marks, dozens of them. ”Shit,” said out loud, fack, I shouldn’t have. The sound of growls and howls was deafening. Two shapes ran at her, she aimed her pistol; in how far one can aim at charging vague blobs of darkness. Four times’s she squeezed the trigger, how many of them hit she was not sure about, but the minimum was two as both creatures came crashing down. One of the slid forwards and stopped at her boots. ”Come on fuckers,” shouted ashen-blonde on the top of her lungs as she jumped up. ”Who wants to die with me!” she was bitten, more than once. She would become like them, so she might as well have some fun now before she would end her life before she transforms.
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