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Description
“All you have left is a war to take her place.”

CHAPTER ONE
It was no effect, nor moonlight, that made the air around her purple. It was plague and corruption itself that tainted the air, prompting the firmly strapped gas mask covering her face. Eyes fogged by glass scanned the terrain- the dried, blackened grass to the clouded sky. Nothing living as far as she could see, but she hadn't been told to look for anything with much life left in it anyway.

With practiced agility she stepped forward, her soft boots having no harsh effect on the deadened ground beneath her. She kept forward at a steady pace, her head not turning once, her breath never seeming to catch in her throat. There was no sound, no birds or trees to play by the wind but the wind itself, which blew softly across her leathers and did nothing more than press more purple against her visor.

Briefly, if at all, she contemplated removing the mask for clearer vision, but she knew much better than that. One glancing sniff of the fog and she would collapse, either to choke to death or to be consumed by whatever stayed hidden in the ominous darkness.

“Do you not see anything?”

She stiffened at the sudden explosion of static and sound before breathing out, her hand resting on a small, compact radio system at her hip. She shook her head slowly, smiling at her own unease, and slid her fingers over the surface of the device. Her fingertips touched with something large and protruding, and she pressed down, hearing her own morphed breathing in her ears.

“Nothing much,” she replied, as coolly as possible, her eyes once again tracing the landscape. “Literally, nothing much. Nothing moving, no trees, no homes, no people. No life.” Something like an owl hooted behind her, but she ignored it, releasing the button to trudge on a few more steps.

“You aren’t looking for life.”

She rolled her eyes at the sharpness of the voice and lifted the transmitter from her belt, looking down at it. If she was to throw it into the fog she was sure it would never be found again, and the nagging voice would go with it.

Sadly, she knew better. She sighed to herself and pressed down the button again, still holding the transmitter in her hand.

“I know. I mean, I was at least expectin’ somethin’ to shoot. At least.” She released the button and replaced the transmitter, turning her head to the left and the right for prolonged seconds. With no response seeming to come, she started up walking again. The owl- or creature- hooted again, and the sound under her feet differed. She turned her gaze downwards and stopped, noticing a blurred but present path.

“I’ve found something,” she alerted the transmitter, kneeling down. She stretched a hand forward and touched the path, brushing her fingers across what seemed to be stone. Dirt and loose rubble was scattered every few feet, but it was a path no matter which way she turned her head.

“Get out.”

She paused at the roughness of the voice, her hand slowly rising from the path. She pressed it to the transmitter again and clicked the button, surprised by the unsteadiness of her own breathing.

“Why? What harm could a path do?”

“GET. OUT.”

“Lethal?” she asked. She heard the concern and confusion in her own voice as she spoke to her seemingly hysteric husband. “Lethal? What’s wrong? Did you find something?”

“Just run.”

She stood again and turned, glancing behind her with a new found energy crushing her body. The fog was parting slowly, and in the far distance she could make out a building. If she squinted, she saw it to be something big, wooden- makeshift and downtrodden, perhaps, but maybe elegant once upon a time.

“RUN, NOW.”

She turned her head again and began to sprint, her boots now relentlessly loud against the lifeless ground. Bursting, crackling, rumbling. Sounds began to grow louder around her, the fog pounding with some kind of desperation. She glanced to her side and almost tripped as her eyes met with a towering, zombified wolf. Its’ teeth gnashed at the air and it howled, the cry being met with many, many others. As the wolf began to surge forward its’ flesh seemed to fall away, slapping against the ground with sickening wet noises. She pushed herself harder, turning to see alien forms, small creatures, even humans plundering towards her. As she sprinted she reached for her belt, breathing hard and heavy in her mask.

“Lethal…”

“Letha? Letha, run. You have to run. You have to run faster than this. I’ve seen you run, I know you can run faster.”

Her armour flashed bright blue, pulsating blue, electric blue, but she felt as if there was nothing left inside of her to match the vibrancy of her own apparent fear. She fumbled with the transmitter as her belt melted onto the ground. She glanced down in confusion and saw her armour doing the same, fog wrapping around her body, destroying her protection.

“Oh, god, Lethal…” she groaned. The fog pushed through her leathers. The blue began to fade. Her skin began to burn.

“Letha? Letha, you’re almost here. Just run a little faster and you’ll be here. Not far to go, baby, not too far.”

She heard the sounds of her flesh slipping from her to collide with the ground but she refused to look down. Behind her the wolves kept howling, humans screaming and whining so loudly it hurt her ears, as the fog began to work at her mask.
“Lethal…”

“Letha? Can you still hear me? Come on, keep running.”

“I love you.”

Her knees hit the ground, and with a sickening scream, the fog covered her.

Description
“All you have left is a war to take her place.”

CHAPTER ONE
It was no effect, nor moonlight, that made the air around her purple. It was plague and corruption itself that tainted the air, prompting the firmly strapped gas mask covering her face. Eyes fogged by glass scanned the terrain- the dried, blackened grass to the clouded sky. Nothing living as far as she could see, but she hadn't been told to look for anything with much life left in it anyway.

With practiced agility she stepped forward, her soft boots having no harsh effect on the deadened ground beneath her. She kept forward at a steady pace, her head not turning once, her breath never seeming to catch in her throat. There was no sound, no birds or trees to play by the wind but the wind itself, which blew softly across her leathers and did nothing more than press more purple against her visor.

Briefly, if at all, she contemplated removing the mask for clearer vision, but she knew much better than that. One glancing sniff of the fog and she would collapse, either to choke to death or to be consumed by whatever stayed hidden in the ominous darkness.

“Do you not see anything?”

She stiffened at the sudden explosion of static and sound before breathing out, her hand resting on a small, compact radio system at her hip. She shook her head slowly, smiling at her own unease, and slid her fingers over the surface of the device. Her fingertips touched with something large and protruding, and she pressed down, hearing her own morphed breathing in her ears.

“Nothing much,” she replied, as coolly as possible, her eyes once again tracing the landscape. “Literally, nothing much. Nothing moving, no trees, no homes, no people. No life.” Something like an owl hooted behind her, but she ignored it, releasing the button to trudge on a few more steps.

“You aren’t looking for life.”

She rolled her eyes at the sharpness of the voice and lifted the transmitter from her belt, looking down at it. If she was to throw it into the fog she was sure it would never be found again, and the nagging voice would go with it.

Sadly, she knew better. She sighed to herself and pressed down the button again, still holding the transmitter in her hand.

“I know. I mean, I was at least expectin’ somethin’ to shoot. At least.” She released the button and replaced the transmitter, turning her head to the left and the right for prolonged seconds. With no response seeming to come, she started up walking again. The owl- or creature- hooted again, and the sound under her feet differed. She turned her gaze downwards and stopped, noticing a blurred but present path.

“I’ve found something,” she alerted the transmitter, kneeling down. She stretched a hand forward and touched the path, brushing her fingers across what seemed to be stone. Dirt and loose rubble was scattered every few feet, but it was a path no matter which way she turned her head.

“Get out.”

She paused at the roughness of the voice, her hand slowly rising from the path. She pressed it to the transmitter again and clicked the button, surprised by the unsteadiness of her own breathing.

“Why? What harm could a path do?”

“GET. OUT.”

“Lethal?” she asked. She heard the concern and confusion in her own voice as she spoke to her seemingly hysteric husband. “Lethal? What’s wrong? Did you find something?”

“Just run.”

She stood again and turned, glancing behind her with a new found energy crushing her body. The fog was parting slowly, and in the far distance she could make out a building. If she squinted, she saw it to be something big, wooden- makeshift and downtrodden, perhaps, but maybe elegant once upon a time.

“RUN, NOW.”

She turned her head again and began to sprint, her boots now relentlessly loud against the lifeless ground. Bursting, crackling, rumbling. Sounds began to grow louder around her, the fog pounding with some kind of desperation. She glanced to her side and almost tripped as her eyes met with a towering, zombified wolf. Its’ teeth gnashed at the air and it howled, the cry being met with many, many others. As the wolf began to surge forward its’ flesh seemed to fall away, slapping against the ground with sickening wet noises. She pushed herself harder, turning to see alien forms, small creatures, even humans plundering towards her. As she sprinted she reached for her belt, breathing hard and heavy in her mask.

“Lethal…”

“Letha? Letha, run. You have to run. You have to run faster than this. I’ve seen you run, I know you can run faster.”

Her armour flashed bright blue, pulsating blue, electric blue, but she felt as if there was nothing left inside of her to match the vibrancy of her own apparent fear. She fumbled with the transmitter as her belt melted onto the ground. She glanced down in confusion and saw her armour doing the same, fog wrapping around her body, destroying her protection.

“Oh, god, Lethal…” she groaned. The fog pushed through her leathers. The blue began to fade. Her skin began to burn.

“Letha? Letha, you’re almost here. Just run a little faster and you’ll be here. Not far to go, baby, not too far.”

She heard the sounds of her flesh slipping from her to collide with the ground but she refused to look down. Behind her the wolves kept howling, humans screaming and whining so loudly it hurt her ears, as the fog began to work at her mask.
“Lethal…”

“Letha? Can you still hear me? Come on, keep running.”

“I love you.”

Her knees hit the ground, and with a sickening scream, the fog covered her.