2,105 WORDS ?!

[AMBER FO SHO]

If anybody who knew Cameron Wilson before the Heat was to
see her now, nobody would be able to identify her as the girl
that she used to be. Except for maybe her mother and father,
but they were long gone now. She still wasn't sure about Jordan,
her sibling. She felt bad, because she couldn't remember if her
own relative was a girl or boy, but she lost a lot of things in the
Heat, and one of them happened to be a lot of memories that
her brain pronounced insufficient to her new survival, and wiped it.
The only reason she knew she had a mom and a dad was
because when she came out of hiding she found two dead
bodies, who both looked a bit like herself. It wasn't until she
found a broken frame in that building she found identities.

Since then, she had cut her hair short, wearing the boyish
clothes that she managed to scavenge from around the
destroyed building she had probably once called home. She
adapted to living strong, and had gotten lean muscles that she
had never had before. It would be amazing for somebody to
recognize her now, especially because of the location she was at
as we speak. Rigby Elementary School. A school she had never
been before, yet stumbled upon on her mission to find a Survivor
Establishment. Why then, would she be in the small school
instead of continuing on her way? That question would aroused
a lot of suspicion on the young girl in the past, but now one may
not have to ask at all, but just know what she was looking for.

Signs. Cameron was looking for signs of a previous survivor or
slayer. All she'd seen so far were blood stains, signs that
somebody had traveled through here and gotten rid of some sort
of pest. And yes, she was looking for food. Her diet had shrunk
since she had aroused from her hiding after the Heat, but she
knew she needed to get some food in her stomach before she
passed out from it. She heard a faint squeak, instantly followed
by a small tugging on her pant leg, which continued to move up
her side until it finally settled on her shoulder. Anybody else, she
would think, would have gone on edge when something tugged
on their clothes, but she didn't, for she knew the feeling to
belong to her new pet mouse, Twitch. She pet the mouse softly.

"It's okay, Twitch, we'll find food soon," she whispered quietly to
the mouse, continuing to walk near silently down the bloodied
hallway. Cameron let out a sigh of relief. Despite all the blood,
she hadn't stumbled across any dead bodies. Sure, she could
probably kill somebody now, but she could never deal with the
bodies that they left behind, the blood, seeing their eyes go wide
with surprise before suddenly fading to nothing, how... She shook
her head, turning her attention back to the hall way. She couldn't
think of it now. Whenever she did, something bad would happen,
as if her PSI abilities would suddenly place a corpse in front of
her. Yes, she did honestly believe in the mysteries of ESP, and
that she possessed the ability of predicting the future.

Some would probably say that the radiation had finally gotten to
her head, that she inhaled too many toxic fumes, and she was
now hallucinating. Cam would have laughed at them. She had a
dream too many where something happened that came true.
Before the Heat, people said that it was possible to develop
these kinds of powers. She believed that her physic abilities had
awaked because of the trauma, and her brain had let go of all
the worthless things that she had once remembered, opening
her mind to the core of survival and communication without the
use of words, but completely through the mind alone, making her
have an upper hand in knowing how things would turn out
before it happened. Or so she thought. It wasn't really true.

She turned around one of corners, appearing now in what she
assumed was once a cafeteria. She could almost see it. All the
little kids pouring in through the door, sitting at the tables and
chatting animatedly about what happened at home or earlier that
day. A small child trading his apple for another person's cookie
that wasn't the right flavor for the other. All the colors and the
smell of food that would be flooding through her nostrils, if only
she could have been there-- she blinked, her little fantasy
disappearing to leave the empty cafeteria with all the tables
shoved against the wall or tipped over with caked blood on the
table. She could have convinced herself that it was ketchup, but
she wasn't in the mood. Something else was catching her eye.

Twitch had leapt off her shoulder and was no scurrying around in
circles, before darting off into the darkness that probably once
led to the kitchen. Cameron let out a cry of surprise as the dark
shape disappeared into the darkness, but she could still hear the
scratching of the mouse as it managed to squeeze under the
swinging door. She rushed over and pushed it open, and was
soon faced with cupboards and shelves. Cam knew that most of
the spaces would be empty, taken by other scavengers, but a
few things could already be seen, including a rather dusty can of
something, in which the contents within would be rather
questionable. Did the metal attract or repel the radiation? Either
way, a bit more in her system probably wouldn't do much harm...

She felt the familiar tugging sensation on her pant leg, but it
jumped off early, as Twitch decided to start going amongst the
counters, looking for crumbs that she could feast on. That was
one of the best things about having a small creature such as a
mouse as a pet in these times. They didn't need large amounts
of food to keep them going, you could keep them in your pocket,
they could bite extremely hard if somebody did try and pick-
pocket you, and most people just found them scary. She started
searching through the shelves once more, looking for a piece of
bread, but more specifically something that was a non-perishable
item. The last thing that this Wilson needed was to get food
poison because she was eating unknown moldy pieces of food.

She started searching around the kitchen, looking for something
to open her can of mystery meat, as she decided to call it. It
probably would have been more than easy to take her curved
dagger from her belt and popped it open, but she hadn't actually
mastered that art yet, and had a few scratches from long ago
still on her body. All the while she heard the scrambling as Twitch
moved about the tables and shelves, looking for more items that
she could feast on. Another good thing, Cam decided, about
having a mouse was that they would find the small pieces of food
that usually fell off a bigger piece. They worked together, her and
the mouse, and though it seemed an unusual pair, the two
seemed almost inseparable when it came to everyday things.

Finally, after several minutes of searching through drawers and
shelves, and only finding another questionable can of food in the
top, furthest cupboard, Cameron sat down and pulled her
blade of it's make-shift sheath. The black blade gave a metallic
glow in the low light that managed to flicker in through the
windows outside, making it look more like a murder weapon than
something that she would now use to open a can of should-be
soup. The edge was curved slightly--matching the angle the dark
part of a gibbous moon would show on a cool night perfectly--
which a forked top. The handle would have gleamed silver, had it
not be dirty, with finger holes on the inside of it, making it double
for a punching weapon. It was a beautiful knife, in a horrible
disfigured sort of way. But wasn't everything these days?

She placed the blade gently against the metal ring with a
practiced hand, snipping one of the forks underneath the barrier.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled the knife up quickly, bending
the weak aluminum up to where she could easily fit the curve of
the knife into it. As Cameron did so, she rotated the can, opening
it with a satisfying pop. Smiling faintly to herself as she picked up
the can and now taking a seat on the floor just as Twitch came
beside her. She laid the lid down beside her, a thin layer of
whatever was in the can now shining slightly in the minimal light.
She saw the gray figure of the mouse approach it and sniff it
carefully, before putting it's little paws on the side of it and
started licking the metal clean with swift, even licks with her
slightly rough and pinkish tongue, not even looking up at Cam.

"Well, beggars can't be choosy," she said quietly to herself, as
she picked up the can in one hand and wiped some of the dust
clean with her shirt. Then, with both hands, she lifted the can to
her mouth and turned it upright, taking the first gulp quickly, so
as to get used to the flavor. The sauce seemed a bit grainy, and
she felt something plopping around in it. She pulled it back to see
a small, folded ravioli. Wasn't it peculiar, how she had managed
to get a can of soup that wasn't revolting? Cam could imagine all
the people who came through here when they could see the
labels, and they hadn't chosen one of, what thought to be, the
best ones? It was bizarre, but she shouldn't have wasted time
thinking. She needed to eat and get out of the building.

She lifted the can to her mouth again, preparing to down this
one and pack away the other for later, when she heard a
shuffling sound. She knew without looking that Twitch had not
moved from the lid, and that the sound was much too big to be a
mouse, or even a rat. She lowered the can, before thinking
better and gently taking the now clean lid from her pet and
replacing it, storing both of the cans into her bag. If it looked like
she hadn't gotten anything, then she could probably leave
peacefully without a fight. Though, she was aching for some
action lately, she wasn't going to make a first move against them
unless they showed signs of hostility. Wasn't that the way that
things went in the old days? Cameron was pretty sure of that...

She remembered a time, right after the Heat, where she had run
into a few of the creatures that she supposed others would
called Rogues. They had approached her in the dead of night,
and she hadn't completely adapted to the darkness, nor her
hearing as sharp as it was now. One of them had caught her, his
grip tightening around her chest as he forced the air from her
lungs and plugged her mouth and nose. She had felt something
scratch against her throat, which instantly made her thrash out
at her attacker. She had made it fall of balance, but as she tried
to get away, it got back up and continued after her. Then she
learned about the Slayers. One had appeared and got rid of the
creature, then presented her with the dagger that she had used.

The Slayer seemed a nice fellow, but when he invited her to join
them, she had turned him down. He had let her keep the dagger,
though, in case she decided to change her mind, but she hadn't
considered the idea since. She wouldn't be able to handle killing
people just for the sake of killing them, even if they were blood-
sucking monsters. So when she heard the sound, she knew that
it was either a Rogue or a Slayer. A Survivor, as the Slayer had
called people like her, wouldn't walk with that much ease. But it
could be, and tt worried her. Her grip tightened on the blade. If it
was going to be a fight, she was going to be ready to take the
attack. She shifted so that she was hidden under one of the
counters, waiting for the suspect to come through the door.



words ! 2,105 [new record]
tagged ! none [sadness]
muse ! fantastic [really~]
notes ! i don't post like this
all of the time. sorry. D8