NEW YOKE TOWN, MAIN CITY
TIME: 11:00
WEATHER: CLEAR
In the midst of a turquoise blue sky, shone the sun delightfully - raying golden beams. But soon, the sky grew eerie and sprouted dark clouds eminating underneath, an intrepid combustion of both fire and flammable materials surfacing the atmosphere, polluting gaseous smoke as charcoal black.
Gazing from above, columns and rows of high levelled buildings combust in smoke and fire, furiously caught in the screaming terror of people trapped within the very clutches of an impending doom, slowly burning away. As if it weren't enough, the lower levels riot in aggony shuffled throughout street blocks, city blocks and alley ways. In total disarray, most were either sane or probably infected by uncharacteristic anomalies developing rabies like symtopes, and their minds drowning in fuzzy blankets of fadingness, soon becoming what is described as 'complete madness' as if their minds are devoured entirely by another consciences, with eyes beaming to lurch upon their targets trying to take a bite or too, no matter the circumstances as they leaped into the air like frogs at high speed, more menacingly, butchering hordes of innocent bystanders cannibalizied in the tens to hundreds, bitting, ripping, tearing, dismounting lifeless heads, and finally gawning down ghoulish bodies bathed in bloodlust. Just like a wildfire, animals were dropping down quickly as well as trying to divert a different path from the inserted danger on their direction. It was a savage massacre, a trivial matter non-existent for the likes of them, caring no slightly whatsoever.
These beings had more of a characteristic that defined them as likely 'losing of all humanity'. From the pale face, distinguished by a rather potent stench; decaying of rotten flesh followed on the chest, legs, arms and basically all aspect of the body. In ways, their eyes seemed to be dilated: transparent. Then the body composition seems too thin, thick and slim, as the bones can actually be seen appearing to conjure out of the skin accompanied by a charcoal brush paint skin tone everywhere, and the hair tone likely untouched: remaining unchanged, for now.
Seeing and feeling the intense tremor of fear penetrating into the depths of the soul, the once life fruitful and maintained collapsed suddenly becoming unaware. The collateral damages consisted of crashing vehicles on the road, public amenities suffereing and buildings set ablaze, or doomed to catastrophic practices of men. Men who were unstable. They cried for help, but to no avail; tried hiding nothing; fighting nothing. The 'turned' dominated the populace massing in hundreds to close thousands as time passed on. Every inch step taken, blood spurs right infront of a persons face, then later latches itself onto the next set of victims attacking them free willingly - pulled lying around to be turned.
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Multiple footsteps could be heard brimming in disarray, but surely were in an organized manner, as the concrete cement staircase became like a marching ground, as closely walking and threading to the 100th floor door exit. The mass of people threading the floors were in shock, afraid to even speak or comment at least a single word. Horror of getting attacked by what unknown abnormalities happened to a near relative, friend, co-worker or family member would also befall them making them more terrified to the bone, bewildered by it.
In the eyes of one, a couple more steps was needed then to open the lock and squeeze in the door wide. The door punched open like a bang. But what echoed from down below, screamed in a shreecking, clapped horror. An astonishing amount of screams waved in accordancing dance through the spiralling staircase. The survivors fled continuously out the exit door, running towards the heli landing zone, while upping some steel rails. A rescue helicopter awaited the boarding passengers as they were seen just a few metres from the helicopter's sight. There a man standing parallel to the boarding deck in red and white uniform called out shouting, "Move! Move! Move!" Offically signalling the incoming and soon nearby survivors to board the deck as quickly as possible, and one by one, a repetitive score of passengers launched inside immediately, hoarded.
The last remaining survivor took some time to barricade the exit with only a wooden plank slightly durable in weight and size, mounting it to clutch stop the door nob from being able to resist tansion like how the substitute of it's (chair) resting back is in at the time, holding a grip towards the door nob. In no fashion of order, the survivor was only able to do that much, and sprinted about to the boarding deck without hesitation of any other thoughts, when from afar the door that was also designed metallicaly caught numerous banging of crowded noises that stream-flowed, consistently.
After the upon arrival of the last personnel, the crewmate hoped on the deck, took a firm stand holding a ledged handle, then gave the signal to the co-pilot and main pilot for LIFT. Right before the crewmate was about to close shut the deck's frontal door, the exit building's door immediately erupted, suddenly sending off small screws and bolts of hinges flying uncontrollably in gyrate motion, along with the door partly bent landing at a dismounted position, hence the crewman flickers quivering, a little shiver over the shoulders heard the bustling crash, where he shook his head turning part of him into the direction of the thunderous sounds that coming from, in short of a squat stance.
He's eyes seemed too focused on the matter, as his pupils began to glare, starring regardless about the unnerving situation. He's face then glowed in anger, a rageful expression. He gasped, giving an unpleasent vibe which he said to himself "Ah, Shit!" gritting his teeth in disbelief. There a small group of figures emerged out of the tunnel exit, varying from small to big in size, dotting in their path in which they followed the turbulent blades of the helicopter, creating humming vibrations in unison.
The crewman hurdled are few words, and directed the pilots to quickly lift the helicopter before those 'things' stationed on the ground level closed within range, or he was panicking making it all the more to rush the pilots in the cockpit sit to do a manoeuvring evasion as they were now havouring at a distance, "Damn there's a lot of them, come on, let's go!," he said conjuring words dramatically. Of course, the survivors on board were horrified when they assumed a turning stem point of their views while cramped sitting aside each other seeing the pale walking 'things'. Some of them mumbled, and jumbling words, even whispering if they were even going to make. They even questioned themselves. Are we dead? Are we safe? When will I see my family? How is this possible?...and so on. Though, the questions might have been a little life threatening as the figures below slowly became small as the helicopter started assuming a driving turn. Maybe the crewmate was being a little sceptical when the door burst. Or was he, thinking back on the door erupting menacingly and blown up as he saw it, he concentrated his thoughts again realizing, maybe it could have been just a fluke: a miss guided judgement.
But then, a scrawny, scorched figure again as any other 'thing' emerged infront of the crowding hoards of lifeless looking fleshy bodies, though this variant assumed a fixed pace rate of speed, and what was more curious was the blend of insecurity it emitted obscuring a deafening feel of dread. It's eyes glanced up tilting its forehead, as if it was looking towards the helicopter. The crewmate was looking at it, in awe. Not knowing what it was, 'it was likely not lethal' he thought. The 'thing' was acting weird making strange noises moving left and right, then stood, screamed roaring in an intense volume. Stepping one step at a time, the 'thing' began to solely walk, power walk and finally if it weren't seen or not, it ran not like a sprinter would but in a peculiar manner, clawing its sharp legs and arms back and fort. At that moment, the crewmate got stunned and taken aback by the intruding figure advancing. He cussed, "Oh, Shit! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!" Alerting an emergency to the pilots upon the emergence tailing their front door lock, which was still wide opened.
Across the front pilot seat, the pilot gripped tightly the handle of the control stick, pushed, and manuvered the large vehicle towards a hard left - turn, while he's eyes came to the sight of the dead outside the pilot's right-Window frame. The survivor's faces dropped in a marvelling wonder of dread and discrete, an extreme case of phobia, as their demeanour hollowed in deep contempt, and a sinking temptation. They froze in fear. Into the other side, or seat another man whose back bent to a 45° angle twisted his head, making only his eyes to glance at the situation.
The helicopter flew in corresponding height of other skyscrapers next to it, lifted, propelling the vehicle into the air almost unscathed by the incoming danger. Or was it. Just then, the incoming danger ran so fast that at a moments notice the damn bastard leaped into the air simultaneously with unmatched strength as it's legs developed the unfathomable power to launch the beast at great heights. In the distance between the helicopter and the building which they previously stationed, the beast like danger of a 'thing' floated in the air, then it closed the distance teeming in bloodlust for an immediate devour. As if time had slowed down, the 'thing' bared a sharpened claw as sharp as a knife coming from the pointed fingertips of it's hands, trying to reach the opened deck. No one could react in this fatal circumstance. Out of the blue, the man stationed at the rear seat clutched opened his seat belt, grabbed what seemed to be a shotgun fully load, took a quick step towards the edge squeezing infront of the survivors passing at the deck positioning himself in a crouched stance swiping the shotgun, lifted it up aiming at the closing danger and without a split seconds thought, the CLICK' of a trigger fired a load of bullets spreading out in unison just in time to counter the 'thing's' impecilbe reach against the whole entire personnel on board. Small projectiles penetrated the damn bastard of a 'thing' amidst the air, turning the favour of opportunity, at contact of the bullets it damaged, ravaged, and inflicted a small proportion of damage but enough in which the close range between the shotgun and 'thing' landed a pretty heavy blow. Shot by the shotgun, the 'thing' recoiled sending it flying backwards before falling at high speed velocity rearing the building windows ultimately plummeted on top of a racked cars roof totally bending the roof surface with extreme pressure carried from the weighted fall, shattering the glass mirror along the process having some debri of spiky metal edge pierce the 'thing' into shambles. Blood spurred all over the racked body of 'thing' that was highly severe in retrospect. That 'thing' was now dead, for sure, - no men can ever survive such a fall.
The man with the shotgun backed up after the interruption on the beast. The whole crew, and remaining survivors were left speechless or rather bombarded by the extreme timing of a reaction: help precision from the guy. Even after their whole encounter with those crazed 'things,' a feeling of hope resonated inside their hearts breaking the fear barrier and establishing a spot dedicated to full pledged hope; hope that at least men have a fighting chance to overcome obstacles obscuring changes in their path leading them into victory. Just like the old days.
The crewman finally got a grip of his own thoughts for a momemt, and peeked his eyes out of the deck. His pupils landed down his eyes with a smudge smile of a saddening frown. He's eyebrows also furrowed a little, but shook off the feeling until closing the boarding door deck.
With the stabilising of the helicopter's balance, the helicopter's blades and tail blades assumed a instantaneous movement, propelling a full straight course direction as the head of the helicopter faced the column roads mid in air.
End of Prologue.