A stray crow cawed into the dismal grayness that seemed to be the predominant color now days, the colored had been drained out with age and abandonment. The wind drifts lazily by as if uncaring about how much the world had changed for the worst, causing the tatters of canvas tents to flutter and flap, filling the silence. The place was empty, even of zombies, leaving it eerie and desolate. Except for a lone figure, the girl was around five feet and three inches tall, whipcord thin with no muscle on her. However, there was something about her, the was she stood that would throw the observer off. Her hands were encased with fingerless gloves she had stolen off a corpse, the fingers curled tightly so her blunt, grubby nails dug so hard into her palms that blood trickled down her tan skin. She was wearing a combat vest and fatigues with boots, all stolen and all were torn and frayed, stained rust-colored with blood and dirt.
The splicing and enhancing of the girl's genes had caused her to constantly mutate, to adapt. So when she had gotten bitten, her cells couldn't destroy it so they bent it, changed the coding around until it only served to heighten her survival rate. However, she wasn't normal, she never had been but this effect had taken a different toll. It was slowly driving her insane, her mind mutating so fast that something went wrong and damaged a part of her. A inhale, ragged as it was, filled her lungs from her parted chapped lips. She didn't have a cap on, so her black feline ears were exposed, she had gotten tired of trying to hide her differences, tired of trying to be normal. In this hell it didn't matter, all that did was survival of the fittest.
Head head tilts back, baring her dirty face to the dull sky above and revealing her eyes. While they once held life, fear, and hope they were now blank. The electric blue irises had nearly engulfed the pupil so it was just a smudge in the insane expanse of her eyes. Before her on the ground had been what seemed to be a zombie, or what was left of it. It seemed like something had ripped it from the inside out, leaving the corpse even more grotesque than it had been before. She could feel the power humming through her, invigorated by the new strengths she continued to get. Her mind, while bent, was continuing to mutate, the more she practiced the stronger she got. It would only be a matter of time before she would claim herself as a false god in this hell...
Tue Dec 21, 2010 1:39 am by *Ðarquesse*Spook*
