G
Gulliver
Guest
Original poster
The sun's been gone for over a hundred and fifty years now. It's a small and minuscule amount of time, when thinking of the million years it would take for the surface temperature to drop to minus 400 degrees. Absolute zero, when everyone dies. Despite these numbers being so far away, however, humankind is still desperately searching for a way to bring back Earths surface, at the least. Until then, the goal is to survive.
Characters:
~ Monty Drayton
~ Natalia Skyes
~ Vincent Bates
~ Emily Dawson
~ Seth Pratt
Summary:
N/A
Art:
Extra:
Characters:
~ Monty Drayton
~ Natalia Skyes
~ Vincent Bates
~ Emily Dawson
~ Seth Pratt
Summary:
N/A
Art:
Extra:
Monty Drayton nodded in the chill air of the cave's pathway. They were here, he could see the tracks plain as day. His partner, Natalia Skyes, wordlessly produced a "Spitter" from her across her back, tossing the unwieldy weapon to Monty who grunted under its precarious weight. In a pinch, a Spitter was a hunter's best friend - quick to fire, easy to maintain, and looked more like an old world flamethrower than it did a high-class bullet spewer. The weapon shifted left and then right again as Monty scanned the dark corridor.
"Nat." He began, voice muffled by his respirator. "Go on ahead. I've got overwatch."
Natalia scoffed and took a cautious step forward, aiming a worn pistol ahead of her, flashlight on. The two couldn't afford any more than one torch, so often the point-man was the one to carry it. Her soft footfalls left a loud boom in the tense silence that followed as Monty waited, his Spitter aimed towards the corridor's mouth. Behind him a gun clicked, and he froze, dropping the weapon on the ground with a boom of thunder.
"Well. Turns out someone picked up our distress beacon mighty fine..." The voice was calm, cold, calculated.
Natalia turned face and shone the torch in the man's face, blinding both him and Monty for a brief moment. With a howl, the man dropped Monty to the ground and fired a burst of shots at Natalia. The sound of bullets ripping flesh echoed for a brief second before Monty was on the man, stamping his wrist into the ground and keeping a knife to his chest. Within a moment, the blade found its way into the man's collarbone with a sickening crunch, and all was silent.
"Nat...." Monty spoke into the silent expanse of the tunnelway. No answer. "Nat..." He repeated, sounding frantic. Still no reply.
Muttering a curse to himself, Monty ran to where the flashlight shone in the darkness and stood above Natalia's bloody form. Two ruby-red holes shone upon her right arm and right below her left breast. He fell to his knees and began to clumsily open a medkit he kept upon his left side, taking out whatever he could find: bandages, painkillers, water...
"Don't worry." He kept muttering. "Don't worry. Don't-..."
Natalia had gone silent, her eyes still bright with life upon her pallid skin - growing even more pale than was the norm. Her gaze locked with Monty's for a brief moment, and her eyes shut with a flutter. Monty shouted another harsh curse and began to forcefully apply more and more bandages to the wound, regardless if it helped or not.
Not like this. Not like this.
"Nat." He began, voice muffled by his respirator. "Go on ahead. I've got overwatch."
Natalia scoffed and took a cautious step forward, aiming a worn pistol ahead of her, flashlight on. The two couldn't afford any more than one torch, so often the point-man was the one to carry it. Her soft footfalls left a loud boom in the tense silence that followed as Monty waited, his Spitter aimed towards the corridor's mouth. Behind him a gun clicked, and he froze, dropping the weapon on the ground with a boom of thunder.
"Well. Turns out someone picked up our distress beacon mighty fine..." The voice was calm, cold, calculated.
Natalia turned face and shone the torch in the man's face, blinding both him and Monty for a brief moment. With a howl, the man dropped Monty to the ground and fired a burst of shots at Natalia. The sound of bullets ripping flesh echoed for a brief second before Monty was on the man, stamping his wrist into the ground and keeping a knife to his chest. Within a moment, the blade found its way into the man's collarbone with a sickening crunch, and all was silent.
"Nat...." Monty spoke into the silent expanse of the tunnelway. No answer. "Nat..." He repeated, sounding frantic. Still no reply.
Muttering a curse to himself, Monty ran to where the flashlight shone in the darkness and stood above Natalia's bloody form. Two ruby-red holes shone upon her right arm and right below her left breast. He fell to his knees and began to clumsily open a medkit he kept upon his left side, taking out whatever he could find: bandages, painkillers, water...
"Don't worry." He kept muttering. "Don't worry. Don't-..."
Natalia had gone silent, her eyes still bright with life upon her pallid skin - growing even more pale than was the norm. Her gaze locked with Monty's for a brief moment, and her eyes shut with a flutter. Monty shouted another harsh curse and began to forcefully apply more and more bandages to the wound, regardless if it helped or not.
Not like this. Not like this.