Nightfall

There was a small boy, probably no older that eleven or twelve, racing through the maze of the city, between the toppled buildings. He wore a bright yellow hoodie and brown shorts, which was probably the attire you wouldn't want to wear when you were being chased. His curly blond hair, which usually hid his bright, blue eyes and the brown satchel that was slung around his shoulder flew behind him as he dashed around the ruins of buildings.

He could not see his pursuers, but he could still hear them from a mile away and probably much farther than that. They weren't demons, but rather humans, children like him. He saw the fire girl crying in the alley and tried to help her, but then some of her friends appeared and the chase began.

He came to a road block of sorts: It was a plank of wood suspended at waist height, connecting the two buildings together. Burnt human heads were nailed to the top of the plank; their faces were unrecognizable. The boy looked to the ground underneath the plank and noticed the symbol etched into the earth. He spat at the symbol, glanced up, and jumped. He kept on going up and up until he could see the top of the building and landed gracefully on the roof.

He could still hear his pursuers, as well as another voice, a voice he decided to follow. He jumped between the roofs of the abandoned buildings until he could see the older boy beneath him. He dropped down and landed softly behind the older boy.

 

The only sound to accompany the man that walked through the streets was a metallic clink that came from the sound of the claw trident--which resembled a bird's foot more than a normal trident--which he was using as a walking stick. Anyone would looking at him would probably be a little startled at his appearance. His light purple eyes were covered by blonde hair, tinged a scarcely noticeable blue, just long enough to reach the bottom of his eyes, his skin ever so slightly translucent; however, that wouldn't the most startling thing about this man. What would startle, or at least get a good laugh, were his clothes. An unbuttoned red Hawaiian shirt covered in flowers and white shorts were worn with light sandals while a scarf was wrapped around his neck, covering it entirely. His clothing complimented his fighting style of fast and ever-changing combat. The man pulled his scarf up to cover his mouth and coughed into it.

A sound caught the traveler's attention, so he stopped to listen to the echo better. It sounded human enough so he began to walk towards what he perceived to be the source of the shout. As he changed direction and started to walk again, the trident resumed its clinking. Being bored, the trident's owner started to whistle along with the beat the trident was making, making for a very strange sight in the city indeed. It was not every day that a trident wielding man in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt made music during the end of the world.

 

Her home was a small alley between two incredibly tall buildings. At night, when she slept, she’d look at the sky and the rooftops of those buildings. But she never went up there. Her fear of heights kept her away from it. Besides, she liked the dark her hiding place had. It brought her a distinct sense of calm and happiness.

She couldn’t remember her name, nor was she creative enough to name herself. And quite frankly, she thought names were frivolous and unnecessary. At least, until she found the right one. If she liked it, that would be her name. Now, if only she could figure one out…

Movement in the street outside caught her eye, and she stood from where she was sitting. As she drew nearer to the street, the lack of shadow revealed blonde hair pulled back in a messy braid with wire and green eyes on a pale face sprinkled with freckles. She was wearing a black tank top and khaki colored cargo pants beneath an army jacket, along with a pair of army boots stolen from a dead soldier. All of it was a little loose on her, but it was enough to cover her up and keep her warm at night. She peeked out after squinting to get her eyes used to the light and saw a boy walking down the street, all by himself. He was carrying a trident of all things, and wearing an ugly shirt. Ugh.

She slipped through shadows and into an alley a ways ahead of him, and finally stepped out into the road. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Those demons will be on your ass faster than you can imagine. You stick out like a sore thumb." she snapped at him.

 

A girl walked out of an alley and stood in his path. This wasn't where the noise came from, and he knew where ever the shout did come from was where something exciting would be happening. He kept walking towards the girl and smiled. "Well, I'm whistling to the tune of my trident hitting the asphalt of the road. And I'm walking to somewhere I need to be. I'm also breathing, and now talking. Maybe you should be more specific next time." he spoke to her as he got ever closer and closer. His voice was nice to listen to and a musical lilt to it. He stopped about 20 feet away and leaned on his trident, and looked in her direction "And as for the demons, the fact that I'm still alive should prove just how able I am to kill them. Or outrun them if there's too many of them to kill at one time. But know this oh huntress, once a demon has had the misfortune to be seen by me, its life has been forfeited to me and weapon." He yawned and scratched his chin, suddenly distracted by a stray thought. He looked up and to his left for several seconds before continuing.

"I don't stick out like a sore thumb. To you maybe, but to me? No. I blend in with my world. I am one with the current of the planet, and seek to flow with it. You're in the way of the current huntress and I don't want to fight you, so I'll just walk around you." The man resumed walking, and whistling a new tune. "You're part of the current now," he said as he passed the girl, "so you might as well join me now. A wise man once said that it isn't safe to go alone. But then again that wise man lived in a cave and may have been crazy. Always trying to had out swords to strangers. Oh well." He slowed his pace, waiting to see if the girl would follow.

 

She cocked her head. This man had ingested some form of weird berry that screwed around with his head. Something had to have happened to him. She'd seen a lot of weird things in her life, and this was the weirdest. "What's your name?" she asked him as he walked away. She decided to follow him. He didn't look to be a threat, and he was right. There was safety in numbers. And her curiosity was getting the better of her again. Damn curiosity to hell.

"Why are you whistling, anyway? You're calling attention to yourself." she asked again. She had so many questions for him. "Also, what have you eaten these past few hours?" That sounded terribly awkward. And she thought he was weird.

 

The traveler sped up to his regular pace as the girl joined his side. "My name is my own, Huntress. But if you must call me something, call me the Fisher. And thank you for joining me. I was getting lonely on this little journey of mine." He kept walking, not answering her questions for a while. Instead he was trying to find an appropriate way to end his song. Deciding to just let the song finish itself, he slowly let the song fade, until he stopped whistling. "I whistle when I have no one to talk to, it keeps me sane. I didn't want to develop some sort of weird personality disorder you know. And the music helps. So does reading." He pulled a thick book out of his satchel that was bound in leather and handed it to her. "That is a book of fairy tales. Every one of which was collected or written by the Brothers Grimm." Deciding to show her what he had eaten, he pulled out a bundle wrapped in dried seaweed and removed the seaweed to reveal a side of smoked fish. "That is fish from my home. Smoked so it can be taken with me on journeys such as this. You sound like you were implying something else though. What did you think I had eaten?"

 

The boy was about to reply to this Epsil guy, but the older boy raised his hand and shushed him. He closed his eyes and rested a hand on his satchel, listening. He could still hear the distorted laughter of his pursuers, but they were miles away. He could hear some whistling and a girl talking that was a bit closer, but he didn't recognize their voices.

The boy's face appeared to brighten up when Epsil possibly offered him assistance, but the teen's answer was so vague that he didn't know whether or not to depend on him. Plus, this guy seemed really weird and he couldn't exactly trust him. He kept his hand rested on his satchel, just in case.

"My name's Hasta," the boy said when he was asked to introduce himself. His real name was actually Justin, but he thought it was too boring of a name. Where he got the name Hasta, even he had no idea. He probably saw it in an old book or something.

 

“Won't be needing this anymore, will you friend?” Cal said in a slight whisper as he knelt down, taking a small, half filled bottle of Coke off of the corpse of a presumed human, too mangled to discern the details of, before walking once more out into the wastes. He took heavy steps as he toted a large, double-barreled shotgun in his left hand, and the Coke in his right. He wore severely ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with 'The Punisher' logo on the front. The black wolf looked to be 19, maybe 20 as he walked a lone vigil across the wastes, his bright silver eyes searching for anything that was dangerous, or of value.

Looking down, he saw a limp shoelace, dangling like a thread of heavy hair, or a dislocated arm – it bothered him. He stopped at a nearby rock and put his foot up, tying the bootlace quickly to avoid being jumped by demons, despite never having seen one yet, at least, not any that were alive. He picked up his gun again and looked out over the horizon, he was on the outskirts of a city ruins. “Memorize Cal, Alpha One...” He said to himself.

Like a flash, Cal saw something different, in the sea of black and gray, there was color. A figure, in what seemed to be vacationing clothes, walked carefree past an alleyway, before a girl Cal had not previously seen, joined his side. The wolf took a breath and considered raising his gun – it was a nice shirt... -- However he opted against it, he wasn't about to kill a perfectly good individual, especially since walking alone is lonely – Very lonely he thought to himself, looking at the female.

In a matter of seconds, the thought process of meeting the two was complete – it wasn't overly complex, and it was also very risky, considering the ethereal hunger he felt in his empty, black heart. However he hoped they were the open sort, and began a quick jog towards them, keeping his gun low, but readied, just in case. “Excuse me, are you at liberty to accept another traveling partner, or am I just wasting my time?” He said in a neutral tone, giving a short salute as he looked to the brightly dressed man.

 

"I thought you'd eaten some form of berry or something that caused delusions." she sighed, and shook her head, shoving the book away. "I can't read, so don't waste your time or my own showing me something I have no use for. The concept of reading bores me anyway, and in this world, the written word gets you nowhere."

She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and aimed her gun for behind the drugged up man. Some weird demon like creature was approaching them, with a gun for some reason. "We aren't partners." she snapped at the creature. What was this thing wearing too? This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

 

The fact that this girl couldn't read troubled the Fisher although he didn't show it. He took the book and put it back in his bag, already trying to come up ways he could coerce her in to learning how to read. To him reading was one of the most essential skills someone could learn in life. A flurry of activity from the girl brought him back to the present and turned to look at what the girl had pointed her gun at. He turned to see a wolfish man with black fur and a shotgun. "Welcome Wolfman. The lady is right though; we aren't partners. We are merely walking together in the same direction, being pushed along by the same current. You are welcome to walk in the same direction with us of course, I cannot, however, ensure your safety from the Huntress here. I won't hurt you, but she may shoot you if you enrage her enough." With his speaking done, he turned and started walking towards his original destination once more, walking around the Huntress and resuming his whistling as his trident clanked against the ground with every step. He knew he was getting close to his destination and was all the cheerier for it.

 

”Not partners yet eh? You'll change your tune, everyone does.” He said staring into the girls eyes, unfazed by the gun she held. He shifted his weight a bit and brought the bottle up to his lips and took a small sip as he listened to the bright-shirted man. After the man finished Cal lowered the bottle, swallowing loudly. ”Yes, I think I'll take you up on your offer, it isn't often I meet someone without a lack of civility in this place – especially due to our immediate differences.” He said before shifting his eyes to the girl. ”As for you – I sympathize. Just up that hill I aimed a good long ways for your friend here, but decided he was far too good-looking to mess up with stray, meaningless violence so I understand the need to point guns at people – Besides, that shirt looks better on him anyway.” He smiled as he finished his sentence, giving a slight laugh before turning away from the girl.

He began to follow the bright-shirted man, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder, making pace as to walk beside him. ”Hey Bud” Cal started, ”Wet your whistle?” he said, making a rather dry pun as he held out the small bottle of coke he had found. ”Probably won't find anything else to drink in a while, just saying.” He looked back that the girl. ”Offer stands for you too missy, unless you're afraid of cooties – because in that case I'm crawling in them.”

 

"H-hey!" Hasta tried to struggle out of Epsil's grip. He hated being carried around. Epsil jumped around the city while Hasta had to make sure his shoes and his bag didn't fall away. It wasn't that he wasn't used to going at this speed, he just wasn't used to going at this speed while in the air. Hasta was a pretty fast runner, but flying at the same speed usually ended in disaster for him.

A few windows broken and a couple of jumps later, the older boy had dropped Hasta in front of two humans and a wolf...thing. The boy groaned, dropped down so he was sitting, and grabbed his head, trying to reorient himself after that escapade. He glared at Epsil and hissed. "At least tell me when you're gonna do that, asshat."

 

The Fisher was happy to have another companion, especially one that was friendlier than the last one he had to join him. He declined the beverage offered by the wolfman. He didn't like the Old World's soda pop drinks. Almost immediately another boy landed in front of the Fisher, carrying a small, exasperated boy on his shoulder, whom he set down. And then he added to the song made by the whistling and trident strikes, and created quite a nice song that, while maybe not enjoyable by old world standards, was more than a welcome reprieve from the modern lack of music. They kept it up for a few seconds before the new kid let the beat fall. "The crowd is not as harsh as you believe. You sir, are a man after my own heart. Perhaps trustworthy enough to one day reveal my name to. For now call me the Fisher." He ended by sticking his out to the boy, offering a handshake.

 

Cal facepawed with an audible laugh as he looked to the Fisher and the two other humans that arrived in a flurry of movements. “Gah, fuck! I started walking with you an clean forgot my manners!” He said  “My name is Cal – Ironically, I kill- err... eat demons. So to speak.” He lowered the shotgun so that is rested in his paw limply.

He looked to the distance absently, taking a breath, making no eye contact as his distanced himself from the world from a brief moment, if only to make his next words easier. “I'm going to be honest here – if only because someone who's honest has nothing to hide.” He rattled the shotgun anxiously. “I don't have a soul – So my body consumes them on a regular basis – I had half a mind to take yours.” He said to the Fisher. “But white souls don't last very long – nor do they digest very well.”

Cal kept silent for a moment, before taking a deep breath, getting the last portion out. “This also isn't really me... I use the souls to fuel my... well, I turn into monsters. - And yes, that means the souls are destroyed in the process of transformation – no heaven.. no hell... That's why I prefer to use Black souls... saves them from eternal damnation I like to think.” He said with a final tone. His eyes scanned the group, waiting for any sign of hostility. He didn't much care for the two newcomers, he was mostly saying it to the Fisher, who he assumed he'd be traveling for a good long time with. “All confession aside, I hope the traveling offer still stands Fisher, I just thought it would be good to get it all clear before I freaked someone out.”

 

She looked incredibly annoyed by the random kid making weird noises with his mouth. She tolerated the whistling more, from the guy named... Fisher. Weird. She didn't understand how these people could be so relaxed. Didn't they realize the importance of survival in this world? Did they even give a flying fuck about their lives? Walking around, relaxed, wearing insanely brightly colored --and quite frankly, ugly-- clothing?

She glared at the wolf guy. "I'm not scared of cooties. I'm not five." she snapped at him. She pulled out her gun again when he revealed his appetite. "You come anywhere near me and my soul and I will shoot you in the head." she said darkly. She looked at the two newcomers. "Care to share your names?" she demanded.

 

Hasta mumbled and let go of his head. He sat up straight and surveyed the group, listening to what each person had to say. He could still hear the laughter of the other children, but they were still miles away. "That's really something you should keep to yourself," he said to the Furry-Man Cal. "It's like someone telling you that they eat unborn duck fetuses or something. Not the most pleasant thought and it's probably gonna come back to me in my dreams." He remember when someone from the Yellow Sign offered him one of those weird 'balut' eggs. Except it looked more like a demon than a duck.

He glanced at the blonde girl with the gun, the most hostile of the group. "Why don't you start?" was what he was about to say when she demanded their names, but then Epsil beat him to it and went on a massive rant. He glared at the older boy, and, when he said that he wasn't going to carry him anymore, he stuck his tongue out at him childishly and flipped him off.