Day 270, Year 986, 41st Millennium
Lower Hive
In the darkness of the Lower Hive, in the area between Sectors Z and E
Eric led the way, his left hand gripping a large plasma pistol tightly. Even though his broken right arm and cracked ribs were squeezing pain with every move, he forced himself to keep going. Everything he saw was green now, and there was little to nothing around except a few frozen corpses, which was good. Judging from his current position and Raoul's mutterings, Eric was now in the area between Sectors Z and E. This area was relatively uninhabited, which was a good thing.
Raoul's footsteps, clad in bulletproof armor and wielding his lassgun, followed him at an uneven pace, sometimes a beat slower, sometimes a little faster. Eric couldn't help but look back. He wasn't over his anger at Raoul, and Raoul seemed increasingly untrustworthy.
Castra walked in the middle, her small hands gripping the hem of Eric's cloak tightly. She hadn't said a word since the shot, only a soft sob she tried to swallow. Eric could understand her reaction, the child separated from her parents, a child who had experienced a series of violent and terrifying events.
The stale air and the smell of burning metal hadn't left Eric's nose. He raised his left hand slightly, trying to adjust the night vision to get a clearer view. The image revealed a broken steel pipe, old bloodstains on the wall, and a burned and charred body lying on the side of the road. He paused for a moment, then lowered his head and continued walking.
The pain in his neck was still there, and it reminded Eric of that terrible moment, his fear of his mustache.
Eric swallowed hard, his thoughts ceasing midway. The hand holding the gun involuntarily tightened. A chill ran down his neck, not from the air, but from the distrust that gnawed at him with every step.
Raoul followed him about five meters away. His breath was soft and steady, unnerving, like someone trying to pretend to be normal when in reality he might be staring at something in the darkness.
Eric didn't know if Raul was planning another trick or if he was trying to escape, which only made him worry that something worse was going to happen. He was injured and unprepared. If anything happened, he might not survive.
Eric didn't know the answer, and he didn't want to ask. He just knew that if Raul made the slightest mistake, he would pull the trigger without hesitation.
The three footsteps continued to alternate until they became a rhythmic rhythm with his heart. The steam from the leaking pipes reverberated clearly in the metal corridor. Raul coughed softly once, a sound like blood in his throat and something was wrong with his lungs. But Eric didn't turn around. He just spoke calmly, not looking back.
"Stop coughing. Whatever's around here will know," Eric whispered. Raul nodded slowly from the shadows. The scraping of his steel boots against the floor faded away again. Castra tightened his grip on the hem of Eric's shirt.
"Sister... are we close?" Castra asked softly.
"Just a little... I hope so," Eric replied hoarsely, his gaze still fixed on the road. He hadn't asked Raoul where he was going yet, and Raoul certainly didn't want to tell him. He knew that after what had happened, if he knew the route, he wouldn't hesitate to abandon him. Or worse, he might kill Raoul and take the money. But he wouldn't do the latter, because he wasn't that evil.
The three of them continued walking in the dense darkness, a darkness that swallowed up their footsteps, their panting, and their trust, slowly fading away. He seemed to see a light in the corridor ahead.
The flickering light from the old bulbs along the tunnel ceiling provided just enough light to see the rusted floor beneath them. The three of them stopped in a relatively safe spot, a blind spot behind a half-broken electrical control box, where they still had room to sit.
Eric let out a long sigh before collapsing slowly, leaning back against the cold steel wall. His breaths were short and choppy, with each breath he took. His left ribcage ached with every breath, and his chest ached slightly.
He removed the night vision goggles first, then slowly removed the gas mask. The breath passed through the filter softly, and a musty, rusty smell filled his nostrils.
The long, white hair that covered his face fell due to gravity. He used his left hand, the only one he could use, to brush it away from his face to the side. His face was still beautiful, though covered in soot and blood. But the beauty was so striking that it was almost a curse.
Perhaps if he were still a man, not a beautiful woman, his life would have been much easier. He wouldn't have had to be sexually assaulted by some unknown beard.
(Author: Even though Eric was a man, he might have been targeted by that gay Night Lord.)
Eric sighed before reaching for his bag. He opened it and took out a stick of corpse starch from his bag. He peeled off the shell with his teeth and took a bite. The bland taste and texture, along with the sore throat, made him want to spit it out, but Eric's body needed more energy than he had any other choice. He swallowed it with difficulty and drank some water.
The water helped him, even though it hurt when he swallowed. He leaned his head against the wall, staring blankly at the shadow of Raul sitting across the narrow alley. The man was quietly packing his wallet and equipment, looking like someone seriously injured, but forcing himself to do something he didn't want anyone to see.
What was Raul planning next? I hoped it wasn't anything bad.
The thought swirled through Eric's mind endlessly. He knew the Lower Hive wasn't a place for the gentle. It was filled with religious fanatics, assassins, drug addicts, heretics, mutants, and lustful people who didn't distinguish between the dead and the living. It was a difficult place to live, and most people were almost unreliable.
It made it worse when he had to carry a gun everywhere and kill people every time he returned home or went to work.
He raised his left hand to his chest, where his ribs ached with every breath. His body trembled slightly from the cold, pain, and weakness. He shifted slightly before leaning his head against the wall, his white hair covering half of his face. His blue eyes slowly closed in exhaustion.
Raul glanced at him briefly before lowering his head to continue what he was doing. Castra sat between them, silent, not daring to say anything.
Eric, without realizing it, had fallen asleep from exhaustion.
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Eric didn't realize he'd been asleep for hours. When he opened his eyes, he felt the same heavy weight on his lap and the same musty, rusty smell. He moved slowly, his hand searching for the night vision scope, and he found it. He brought it up to eye level.
His eyes scanned the surroundings. The still-on night vision scope revealed the same area they'd stopped in: scratched metal walls, broken control cabinets, and piles of trash resembling every nook and cranny of the Lower Hive. But missing was "Raoul" and his lassgun.
Eric looked around several times, but nothing was there.
Eric's face was now a mixture of anger, worry, and fear. He tried to prop himself up with his left arm, but the sharp pain from his cracked ribs and the heavy weight in his lap made him unable to rise.
"Raoul, you... you son of a bitch..." he cursed under his breath, his voice hoarse, filled with both anger and fear. As he looked closely at his lap, he realized what was causing the heaviness in his leg.
Castella lay on his lap. Her face was buried against his soft thigh, her soft breathing the only confirmation that he wasn't completely alone. Eric felt strange having someone laying on his thigh like this (he had never had anyone lay on his lap like this before).
Eric looked down at the girl and tightened his grip around the plasma pistol beside him. His wrist trembled slightly with anger.
Raoul might have just gone out for a bit...he'd be back soon. Hopefully.
Eric tried to think positively, but he knew the chances of Raoul abandoning him were high. The most painful truth was that, as much as he hated and distrusted Raoul, Eric knew he needed to rely on him.
Raoul was the only one who knew the secret route to the top, the only one who knew where the safe route was, the only one who knew which route wasn't infested with the Chaos Cult and Genestealer Cult that were taking over the lower Hive City, zone by zone.
The lights in the lower city were now completely blacked out. The place where Eric was now was strangely quiet, while he could hear the echoing of gunfire from other districts. It was both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. He felt something was definitely off.
"Shit..." he cursed again quietly, trying to keep the girl from hearing.
Eric gritted his teeth. He knew his injuries were making things worse. His right arm was broken, his ribs hurt every time he breathed, and he might have bruises. And the new plasma gun he was holding... had extremely limited ammo, was heavy, and couldn't be reloaded because he didn't know how to reload it. It was a shame, because he had what he thought might be a power cell or something.
He looked up at the metal ceiling, rising darkly, as if he was slowly being swallowed by a giant hole. Thinking about his current situation made Eric extremely scared.
He didn't know where he was going.
To be honest, he'd only been here in this weird, wild future for about a month. He didn't know anything except the route to work and home, and the few places in his neighborhood. He had to accept the fact that he didn't know much about the road. He didn't even know where he was. And great, now he was lost. And he might be trapped here forever with the strange cult and mutants, or he might die of some terrible fate.
He gritted his teeth, trying not to think about it, as it might stress him out too much. He reached out his left hand to gently touch Castra's head.
The girl squirmed slightly in his lap, but she didn't wake up.
"Don't panic, Eric. You'll find a way up there like you did in the Under Hive. Now, you just have to be patient," Eric said quietly to himself. He sat still for a moment, trying to steady his breathing and calm himself. All he could think about was what Raoul had done recently: leaving him to deal with mutants alone without any help. He allowed himself to be molested, even though Raoul had helped him and tried to escape. Now, he's left Castra with him.
"Why did I have to go through this?" Eric said, his voice filled with anger, fear, and a hint of sadness. He was angry because he'd been abandoned... he was afraid because he didn't know the way or anything, that he was lost. He felt sad for his life, working so hard, and then having to go through something like this again.
Eric took a deep breath. He gently lifted Castra's head from his thigh with his left hand. Fortunately, the child hadn't woken up yet. He holstered his large pistol and tried to stand up with his left hand. He wobbled, but at least he could still get up. Eric walked out of the electrical control box, looking around. He still couldn't find any trace of Raoul. This was proof that he was alone with the other child and lost.
"If I see you again, you're dead," Eric said in a soft, yet resentful voice. If he encountered that guy again, he wouldn't hesitate to empty his magazine and then loot his belongings. He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't help it. It was unlikely he'd ever see Raoul again.
He turned back to the sleeping child and slowly walked over to sit down next to her. He lifted her head to rest on his haunches again and waited for the child to wake up. He would continue his journey then, even though he didn't know the route. He had to get out of here. In the meantime, he carefully examined Raoul's pistol to figure out how to reload it.
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When Castra woke up, Eric immediately set off, even though Castra was trailing behind him, exhausted and sleepy, looking for Raoul. Her small hands gripped the hem of his cloak tightly. Eric glanced at her for a moment before looking away again. He didn't say anything, as his voice might be loud enough for someone to hear.
His mind was unsettled. He was struggling to decide whether the path he was taking was correct, whether there were additional dangers, and what to do next.
Eric's jaw clenched so hard his teeth chattered. He gripped the plasma gun in his left hand tighter. Although his arm ached from the weight of it, the anger momentarily overcame the pain.
He finally entered a residential area. It wasn't much different from the one he'd been in, only slightly cleaner. But everything had a strange, musty smell. This area, Eric noticed, was very normal. The town seemed too quiet, with no signs of rebellion or anything. The cult's presence seemed unlike anything he'd ever seen. And most frighteningly, the area was completely uninhabited, with no trace of mutants or madmen. Something could have happened, or nothing could have happened.
Eric walked into a building that looked as quiet as the others, and when he thought back to the last time he'd checked his bag, he considered risking his life inside to find supplies. He cautiously approached, accompanied by Castra. The building was no different from many he'd seen before: dark, dilapidated, and silent. He walked through a metal door halfway off its hinges before pushing it open. Inside, a small room contained only a metal bed with dirty sheets, more furniture than his own room, and a box of stolen items. He bent down to inspect it, finding only a packet of dried food left with only a few powders and a half-full bottle of cloudy water, unsure if it was drinkable.
Eric felt strange, so he didn't even bother using the water system in the area.
After inspecting the room, he slowly moved to the next room. Upon entering, he found a mirror. He looked strangely exhausted, even though he was wearing a thick coat, long pants, boots, and a gas mask.
He didn't pay much attention, though, and continued searching. Eventually, he discovered a medicine box. Eric immediately searched it, hoping to find some useful medicine.
But there was one problem that Eric tried to ignore: he knew almost nothing about the drugs people in this dark future used.
While searching through his medicine box, he found a small bottle with a label still attached. The writing was faded and almost illegible. Luckily, he remembered its name from asking Magda about it. Painkiller-27, an industrial-grade painkiller often used in mines and labor-intensive factories, was powerful and fast-acting, but highly addictive, turning many into addicts. Eric stared at it for a moment before sighing softly and putting it back in his bag. He didn't want to use it, but it might come in handy in an emergency. Just then, a small voice called out behind him.
"Sister Erica…" He turned around. Castra was standing there staring at him, her hand clutching the empty can tightly. The girl's light-colored eyes seemed to tremble in the light of the night vision goggles.
"Raoul... Where did you go?" Castra asked, curious and slightly afraid, as if she had been holding it in for ages since she'd woken up and couldn't see Raoul.
The question was simple, but it felt like a hammer hitting Eric's chest. Eric paused for a moment, staring at the wall. He knew lying to the child would be easier and probably better than telling the truth right now. Maybe he should try to evade as much as possible and slowly tell her the truth.
"... Maybe he's on personal business or spying," Eric said softly. He wasn't sure if he could lie to her or even just comfort her a little.
"Is it business?" Castra asked curiously.
"Well, if he survives... he'll probably come back," Eric replied, turning away. He saw Castra's innocent eyes, and he felt a strange guilt.
"Raoul's capable... he knows the way. He might as well check out the road ahead," Eric tried to sound more confident, even though his mind was filled with curses and the urge to shoot the traitor in the face. The girl nodded slowly, but her expression remained unblinking.
"So... he'll come back, won't he?" Castra said, her innocent voice renewed.
"Yes... he'll definitely come back... but remember, if he doesn't come back, he might be dead," Eric replied, and he thought that was the most childish answer he could ever give.
"Yes," Castra said before asking Eric for a stick of corpse starch, which he gave without much thought. Afterward, the two continued exploring the room.
Eric cautiously entered the room, pointing his plasma pistol around. Luckily, there wasn't much in the room.
The bed was half broken, and the wardrobe was leaning against the floor. In one corner was a metal box with a crooked lid. He figured the owner of this room must have a lot of money. Eric didn't hesitate to search the closet. Inside were rags, old clothes, and... something that made him pause for a moment, and he smiled faintly.
"... Something like this is still there," Eric said, a mix of surprise and delight.
It was a well-preserved bra. Although it looked used, it had been cleaned and was cleaner than most of the things he'd found in the Lower Hive. Eric couldn't help but smile a little.
Eric felt strangely happy and content after more than a month of using a bandage instead because he needed to save money, and now at least he wouldn't have to waste time wrapping and untying the bandage anymore. He murmured as he lifted it up to examine it in the dim green light.
"It's my size too. Great," Eric exclaimed when he realized it fit his chest.
" Sister Erica, what happened?" a small voice said from behind him. Eric flinched slightly before turning back and smiling wryly. But Castra probably didn't notice, since he was wearing a gas mask.
"My... my personal stuff," Eric continued, a little embarrassed or slightly uneasy, but he didn't want the little girl to know.
"My personal stuff?" Castra asked curiously.
"Um... I want to use the personal stuff women use, okay?" Eric replied vaguely, slightly evasive. Castra frowned.
"Not really, but if Erica says so, I'd better not ask," Castra said as she tossed the corp starch shells into the trash can next to her.
Eric let out a soft chuckle, his laughter echoing in the silent, metallic room. It was oddly endearing.
"That's good, Castra. Turn away from me," Eric said, scratching the back of his neck. He could have just found a room and changed clothes, but he didn't dare leave the child alone in such a dark room.
"Huh?" Castra exclaimed, tilting her head slightly, as if wondering what Eric meant.
"I'm going to change. Just a sec. Don't look back, okay?" Eric said, his voice a little more serious, trying to sound careless or embarrassed. Honestly, he was quite embarrassed by this. He was already embarrassed enough being alone in his room, half-naked, but now he had to change in a room with another child facing away.
"Yes!" the girl replied obediently, turning away quickly. Eric followed her gaze and slowly removed his robe with one hand. His pale, slightly dirty skin, covered in sweat, was visible in the soft green light of the camera. His strong muscles, from hard work, were not too noticeable. Eric thought his figure looked quite good. He gently unwrapped the tightly rolled chest bandage and saw the compression marks from the excessive use of the bandage. He felt very comfortable removing it, but looking under his left breast, he felt a little uneasy because there was a purplish-green bruise. Sure, it still hurts, but it feels so good now.
"Ah...so comfortable..." Eric murmured softly, his voice brimming with satisfaction. He slipped on the new bra he'd found. It was difficult, with only one hand and one arm still working, but he didn't complain.
As he hooked it, he glanced at the girl still sitting with her back facing away, unmoving.
"Very good... Thank you for being so obedient," he said in a soft tone he wasn't used to, but he still felt a strange sense of embarrassment. Putting his robe back on, Eric took another deep breath. He felt much more comfortable now, and he turned to smile faintly.
"Okay, turn around," Eric said as he turned around. Castra turned immediately, her eyes meeting his with a curious gaze.
"Are you done changing? Is everything okay, ?" Castra asked.
"Yes, I'm done changing. Everything's fine. Let's go," Eric chuckled.
He picked up an old bandage. It was a bit musty, but it was still usable. He carefully rolled it up and put it in his bag. Eric stretched his left arm above his head and stretched slightly before he, probably holding Castra's hand, walked out of the building. The entrance and exit were no different. Before leaving, he'd randomly checked another room for supplies and, luckily, had a full supply. But as he exited, he smelled something foul, and the smell intensified. Turning to the left, the path that would lead him into the center of the area, he saw a strange green mist. The night vision camera certainly helped him see more clearly. What he saw was something... something that might have led him to why the people in this area had disappeared.
What he saw in front of him, perhaps about 100 meters away, was the body of a person, dressed in dirty, torn clothes. He looked slightly unsteady. He was limping, his shoulders uneven. And most horrifyingly, the man could hardly be called human. His skin was turning green, with numerous pustules appearing here and there. His eyes were cloudy white. His mouth was wide open, revealing rotting, deformed teeth, and numerous maggots and insects nestled inside. The man or something groaned softly before turning towards Eric and Castra. Suddenly, more figures began to emerge from the mist.
Eric quickly processed the words in his mind.
Zombies?