Running Blind - - [OPEN]

[Salem Y. Wilson]

Her heart thudded in her chest as she ran. She felt her legs giving way. Due to lack of nutrition as a child, she'd never gained much muscle mass, and now, she felt that would lead to her ultimate death. She'd been out her alone for weeks, not really sure what to make of the world. These people - with their missing limbs, blood covered cloths, and distorted faces - chased her at every turn, and she had to force herself to keep running. Being locked in a basement all her life, she wasn't sure what to make of the world. As far as she knew, it had always been this way.

A bar came into sight, and she wasn't hesitant to enter. Nothing would be inside, right? She'd be safe... Right? She slammed the door shut, shoving a chair until the knobs, knowing it wouldn't hold long. It was a trick she'd taught herself when her mother had tried to come into the basement to beat her on countless occasions. Of course it didn't hold her out forever, but Salem had always had time to hide whatever she'd been given by Emerald so her mother wouldn't hurt her again. Now, she had to hide herself from these crazies. To her luck, the place was empty. While there were dead bodies lying everywhere, they didn't seem to bother her. Salem had never seen a dead person before. Not even on the lightning box, which Emerald had called a TV, if Salem was correct.

She looked at the bodies. There were holes in their heads, and they had the same grey skin and black eyes as the rest... As Emerald. Salem's heart twisted at the sight of her sister. Where was she now? She hoped that Emerald was okay, though she was sure the child wasn't. If she was like the rest of the crazy freaks, then there was no way she was alright. Banging on the door and the moans of the people outside caused Salem to jump. She looked around the strange area and quickly spotted another door. She jogged to it and pushed it open, looking inside cautiously. There were things on the floor. Little round things that were thicker at the top and skinnier at the bottom. There was glass tucked just inside the thicker part, and a strange shaped object behind that glass.

A small black switch on one of the objects caught Salem's attention. She picked it up, pushing the switch. A yellow light cascaded from the glass, startling Salem. She dropped the object. Flashlight. Harmless. She remembered. She was glad Emerald had taught her the basics. She even talked like she was from a foreign country, and had no idea what half of the words people said even meant. A loud crash made Salem scream. She peeked out of the door, seeing that the people had pushed through her temporary barrier. She closed the double doors she'd gone through and shoved the flashlight between the bars before backing away from the door as the banging began again.

Another door caught her attention. She went through it, and saw a large set of stairs. She closed the door to the stairs, turning the deadbolt before taking the stairs two at a time. She came to yet another door and gritted her teeth. She was tired of seeing doors. However, she opened it, and it revealed the rooftop. She walked out slowly, and she could see the... What was that blasted thing?! Oh yes, the sun. It was setting behind the tall plants. Emerald had called them trees. Colors were cast across the sky, though Salem couldn't tell you what the colors were. The only colors she knew were red, black, and purple.

Salem moved to the edge, looking down. People were moving in and out of the bulilding restlessly. Finally, she sat down, letting her feet hang over the edge and she sighed. It felt good to sit. She could finally relax, if only for the moment.

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[Michael Levetta]

There were very, very few places these days to safely catch a nap. And when you're 46 years old, you tend to need naps every now and then, especially when you had just finished travelling several states down to Kansas. He was on a wild goose chase to try to find some of his old pals from grad school in the biology labs down here. Last he heard they were working down here anyway. It was probably a long shot that they were still alive though, considering that it seemed most people were converted into those freaks one way or another.

The one seemingly safe place he found to take a nap was on the roof of some bar he came across. Who would think to look up there if he didn't make any noise? He had completely covered himself in a multicolored spread that he kept in his backpack. Mostly to prevent the sun from hitting him in the face, but also to remain unseen from anything that didn't bother to look underneath. He practically slept with one eye open though, so the chance of anything getting him was small.

His rather peaceful slumber was jolted away when the entrance to the roof was opened. He awoke, but still remained motionless underneath the spread. He heard a pattered footstep walk to the other side of the roof. Another survivor maybe? The footsteps stopped and he then felt the weight of something plop down on the roof. Somewhat annoyed that his one opportunity for sleep had now been negated, he wrestled the spread away and hazily looked in the direction he felt the weight from. "Can't get any sleep in this world." He grunted, still half asleep. Through dreary eyes he could make out the figure of someone sitting at the opposite end, not a freak. He almost contemplated simply going back to sleep, but that would probably be rude.

[Salem Y. Wilson]

She knew she hadn't been sitting there long with a voice and shuffling startled her. Her adrenaline rushed again, and she jumped up without thinking, backing away slowly. She was quivering and could feel the sting of tears in her eyes for pure fear. She wasn't ready to die. She'd never had a life to begin with since she'd been stuck in a basement all her life.

She felt her heel hit something hard, and she almost fell backwards at the force, and had to throw her arms back to struggle for balance. When she was sure she wouldn't fall to her death, she spoke without thinking. "I am sorry! Please do not hurt me!" She pleaded. She felt a tear slip down her cheek. She was trapped between those crazies and this one. Then again, he hadn't attacked yet, so maybe he wasn't one of those crazy people. She still wondered what had happened to them to make them so insane. Why didn't the main people do something about it? Why weren't these people in some sort of hospital to be treated? It was almost as if the police didn't bother to care anymore and had simply let the world do what it wanted. Then again, Salem could be wrong. She usually was, though it wasn't really her fault.

When the man - at least, that's what she assumed this person was since his voice was deeper than a female's - didn't make another sound, she stopped crying and struggled to adjust her eyes to the impending darkness. "I just needed somewhere safe to go, and this place looked safe enough. I did not mean to bother you, sir." She said, though her words were fast. She was obviously afraid. She tried to see where he may be, but her eyes just wouldn't adjust. She much have sounded young. Very young. After all, she didn't know how to use words such as 'don't', 'didn't', or any others like that. Her mother was to blame for that.

However, her life in the basement was suddenly looking warm compared to this. Maybe this was her fault. After all, she did practice witchcraft. Since witchcraft was known as black magic, she thought it possible that she had done this. Most of her darker spells had been cast on her mother, after all. The hated the woman, and the woman hated her. She'd always given good spells to Emerald and Jax, since they'd been the only ones to help her, even though Jax had only helped her bathe when she was too young to do so on her own. She'd had a sad life, but this was definitely worse.

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[Michael Levetta]

Michael was a bit surprised when he heard the voice of whoever was standing at the other end. She sounded like a really young girl, and maybe a somewhat paranoid one at that by the tone of her voice. For a moment he didn't really know how to react, the last thing he would've expected would be some little girl somehow finding her way through the mess and up here. Slowly, he pulled aside his spread and grimaced a little at the sun suddenly making full contact with his face. Once he sat up and and cleared the Zzzz's out of his eyes, he saw what appeared to be a teenage girl, older looking than she sounded, and dressed quite gothic he might add. He decided it'd be best if he just acted like himself and let her take it the way she wanted.

"Even if I was pissed off, I'm far too tired to be of any threat to you." He said while rubbing his eyes in his typical subtle humor. He finally stood up lazily and stuttered over to the door he presumed she came from. A thought occurred to him that she may have been running from something to end up all the way up here. "Were you running from something?" He asked with a hit of concern in his voice.

He eventually took notice of how frightened she looked. That meant that either he had gotten pretty scary looking or she had just been to hell and back. Either way, he felt that maybe he needed to be at least somewhat sensitive here. "Considering the recent events, you haven't been much of a bother at all." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little.

He drifted over to the edge of the roof and looked down into the street. What certainly looked like infected were all over the base of the building. Oh great, now how do you escape this place without some daredevil stunt? He sighed as his brain worked over the nonexistent options.

[Salem Y. Wilson]

Salem listened to him speak, and was glad at his words. Relief washed over her slightly and she stood for a moment, not moving. She didn't even speak. When his voice rang out again, she smiled slightly. However, the smile faded when he chuckled. She'd never heard a man laugh before. Her father had always been angry, or not at home. Even then, the basement didn't receive a lot of sounds from the upstairs unless there was shouting involved. Other than that, it was just Salem and her constant humming to herself with the music box her sister had given her. She then grasped at the pendant Emerald had given her, taking the charm into her palm, and wishing her sister hadn't have been acting like one of those crazies.

Salem cleared her throat then and spoke, her voice almost too quiet to hear. "My name is Salem Yvette Wilson." She said, her hand still clasping the pendant before she finally released it. "Why are all people acting so weird?" She asked slowly, not really sure how to word the question. "Sorry for the bad, uhm... I do not remember the word." She said. She hated not knowing how to speak properly, and she actually wondered if this man knew that she was talking about her grammar. While she didn't know the word, she hoped that he would. She needed something that understood what she was saying. Emerald had always been the only one that understood. No one else did.

She looked over the edge as he did, and immediately, ideas began to flow. Being locked in a basement all her life meant that she was very logical and creative. She looked at the people below. They all seemed to be trying to squeeze their way into the double doors at once, and Salem sat on the edge again, feet dangling. She swung them back and forth, humming to the mental sound of her music box. The music box had been made by her older brother, but given to her by Emerald. Emerald had said that the music it played was from a video game called Fear 2, and that it was the music box of a ghost girl, or something like that. The sound that always entranced Salem seemed to cause others to question her sanity.She wished she would have grabbed her music box now. Perhaps she could go back for it.

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