Apocalypse: Foreigners, Friends and Foes (Part 3)
17:05The trio glanced among one another, shortly before reverting their attention to Miles, who was staggering to get back onto his feet. The metal rod that was rolling away had come to a halt, and he knew what he needed to do next; sweep it up before it goes missing. However, just as he was about to dash away from the strangers, he was stopped by one of them; a black haired male who was clad in a worn out black tuxedo. "It looks like you've got your hands full there, buddy," said the foreigner as he held on to his female companion's hand. (This is a pretty relaxed scene, despite the fact that there's an epic battle going on at the moment!)
-x-
Several hours have passed, and the Rogues have triumphed over the victims of the Mors virus. Severed heads were scattered all over the empty roads, a thin layer of crimson fluid had blanketed the nearby concrete walls. Empty bullet shells accompanied the dispersed bits of organs, tissues and such.
The entire team was seated in a circle as usual, each of them polishing their most treasured item. All but Sean, whose precious item had been destroyed, thanks to the pea-brained nut job whom he had fun slaying earlier. The three strangers were also part of the circle of Rogues, glancing nervously at the blood-bathed modern day hunters. One of them, the same person who commented Miles, decided to break the silence that was starting to grow rather awkward. "So... I see the seven of you are-" he began, but was interrupted by his companion. "We're tired, and we're lost. Can you please help us?"
Francis took a while to analyze the situation; he needed to be certain if these people could be trusted. "Who are you?" the curious Kamilia questioned on behalf of her team. "And what the Hell are you doing out here, knowing that there are zombies lurking around?" she continued, accompanying her interrogative questions with the right gestures. Not wanting to cause trouble or anything, the three decided to cooperate with her and reveal their identity through brief introductions.
"My name is Sheryl, and this is my fiancé, Shane. We're not from around here - we have been walking for five days now, non-stop. Please, you have to help us!" said the female stranger, who was dressed in a torn bridal gown by Vera Wang. Her hair was a mess, and her face was stained with ashes, blood and mud. "How did you end up here?" asked Nancy in return. "We were getting married when it all happened..."
***
"Do you, Shane, take Sheryl as your lovely wedded wife, through times of pain and joy, through poverty and through wealth, and promise to love her 'till death do you apart?" asked the priest who was in-charge of the wedding ceremony. "I do," replied an exquisitely dressed youth who, apparently, went by the name Shane. The priest shifted his attention to the groom's bride now, who was looking up at her husband-to-be through misty eyes. Just as he was about to say out the vow made for her, the wedding was interfered by a mob which seemed displeased about something. When Sheryl's father exited the wide hall to deal with the obstacle preventing their marriage, a deafening shriek filled the silence, grabbing everyone's attention. After a couple of minutes, Sheryl grew worried when her father never came back.
After telling her to stop worrying, Shane bolted out to investigate the truth. In not less than thirty seconds, he rushed back in, running as fast as he could down the aisle. Once he set foot on the altar, he reached his arm out and grabbed his fiancée's hand in a flash, jerking her off the platform. "We have to get outta here! Everyone outside... they're all insane! Everyone! Leave! Save your- OH MY GOD THEY'RE IN HERE!!!" cried the petrified Shane, who was pulling the love of his life along as he ran towards the exit for safety. Once outside, he had to make a big turn around a viciously torn body, which was that of Sheryl's father. "Daddy!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, drenched in disbelief, anger and sorrow. "Wh-Wha-... Who did this!?!?" she cried, looking up at Shane with eyes that were filled with vengeance. "We have to go, NOW."
As he yanked her away from her spot, she stole a moment or two to glance at the ruckus going on in the hall that they were leaving behind, catching a glimpse of what was occurring through the blood-stained glass windows. Death - that's what was occurring. And ever since then, the only thing that they've been doing's walk. That explains how they ended up in Haven City.
***
"Oh... Wait, so who is he?" asked Hailey, who seemed rather interested in the third person of the group of strangers. The maroon haired youth rolled his eyes up, looking at the brunette through his shimmering green eyes. "Menya zovut Alexei," replied the odd looking man in a foreign dialect. This caused Hailey to raise an eyebrow in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "What?" she squeaked, eying down the foreigner. "I said my name is Alexei," he repeated himself, talking in a strange accent. "I am a junior reporter from Russia, but my flight was delayed on the day I was supposed to return to my homeland. I was sent here to cover the story on the outbreak of the Mors virus a month ago. These two found me while I was hiding away from civilization."
"Russia!?" both Nancy and Hailey shrieked excitedly, holding their fists close to their chests. "Yes, Russia. You have a problem with Russia?" asked the casually dressed reporter in simplicity. "No, not at all! In fact, we love Russian g- Err.. Russia!" responded the giddy Hailey. "Okay, good. Maybe I can take you there sometime, maybe after the world domination has ended, yes?"
"Yes!"
-x-
"So, from what I have gathered, this... 'Mors virus' was created about fifteen years ago. I have been told by a secret organization which specializes on medical called 'The Union' that the virus was developed during the concoction of the latest antidote, the Longevity+, which will enable a person to live longer. They have also informed me that the creator of this virus and antidote is a highly qualified doctor with a certified pH.D , Doctor Felicia Friedman. It has become my duty to find her and investigate more on the effects of the virus and how it can be cured. Will you help me, please?"
The youths looked at each other silently, stopping in unison when Francis's face came in sight. It was up to him, for he was the leader.
"Well.. if it puts an end to it, why not?"