Finley walked in the shadows of the buildings, her steps as silent as possible as she strained her ears to hear anything at all. For the most part, the desolate city was strangely quiet, and that set her on edge. Fingering the handle to the knife she kept at her side, she glanced over the cracked street, biting the inside of her cheek. Normally, one could hear the sounds of the infected roaming the streets, attacking any poor creature they could find, and sometimes each other. One would also hear the screams of those they caught, the wet crunches of bones snapping and the gruesome ripping sounds of skin being torn from flesh. Even the memories of the last time Finley had witnessed something like that was enough to turn her stomach. Momentarily distracted by the sight of a banner hanging out of a window that said, "Alive here," Finley was considering going into the building and seeing if the banner was true, when an inhuman growl sounded behind her. The infection, virus, disease, whatever you would call it, twisted its victims until you could hardly tell they were human anymore. Most of the time, they would be on all fours, teeth grown to the size of sharks and rows leading all the way down the throat, so that once they caught you, you would lose a limb getting out. Their skin paled to an almost transparent white, and from a distance you could count the veins just underneath. If one was unlucky enough to not be killed after being bitten by an infected, they would suffer a long, painful descent into madness as the disease worked its way through your blood system. Once it had reached your heart, you would be unconscious as your body's DNA changed. Quickly turning, Finley drew her knife as she saw the infected, a black-haired monstrosity that must have been seven feet tall on two legs. Already muttering the words she would need to use her magic, she held the knife in front of her, challenging the infected to attack first.