Carpe Noctem
(( First story, woo!))
It was his oldest and his first memory. It was what drove him, what kept him, what gave him his will to live in this crazy world of his. Oh yes, it was his. Other than being the only human in the world, he was also....gifted. Certain telekinetic powers were at his disposal but that's something to be explored later on. He still retained vague memories of his past life but none of them really mattered; just the one.
The planet was war torn but only in certain places where it was nothing but burned out cities and bases. Coupled with the ravenous animals, the toxic gases and the flying shrapnel, it was a wonder that he was still alive.
He virtually lived below the barrel which in this case, was under a bridge in a yellow zone. He was clad in black from head to toe with metal plates accenting. He was the perfect assassin in his spare time, making sure to keep the battle in balance. If one side was winning, he might sabotage the supplies. If another was winning, he'd assassinate the commander, whoever it happened to be. Either way, if anyone won, he'd lose. Everyone would be on their way and he'd starve.
But all this pales in comparison to what was happening now. Apparently side A, also know as the Kale, were looking for him. His den had already been overturned and all his supplies were either looted or being burned as he watched it all from inside the rubble of a collapsed overpass. He sighed, wondering what he would do now. Mabey he could escape into a nearby city? Tch.
'Probably not one for another several leagues....', he thought to himself. He crawled deeper into the pile of pavement and rock, emerging into the basement of a bombed out skyscraper. The only light came from holes in the roof and the military lights that lined the place. He didn't need light anyway, he knew the layout by heart. Twenty yards to the left and sixty yards to the right of that would place him on top of an entryway into the sewer system.
The cars were twisted heaps of metal and/or gasless. In nearly all aspects, this place was identical to the one where he lived before. Well without the furries anyway, which was another thing that interested him; all the different races. His world was much more judgmental about appearances..... Speaking of which, there were two burly looking huskies, armed to the teeth, waiting by the tunnel entrance.
'Tch, took them long enough to catch on.' He held out his hand and picked up a handful of rocks. From there, he held up his hand and sent each one of them speeding into the bodies of the guards. They gasped for a moment before dropping dead in a pool of blood. He effortlessly, walked though the darkness, using his power to guide him over to the tunnel. He didn;t even bother looking at the broken remains of the soldiers.
.....................
Several hours later, he emerged from the stinking tube of crusted on filth and black water and onto a runway where several planes were being loaded. He strapped a dropped messenger bag onto his shoulder and silently thanked the gods. Somehow, some way, he'd managed to escape an army, kill half another on his way through the tunnels, survive life in the middle of a battlefield, and still make his way onto an active runway and thus, into a city. ((Huh, deja vu....))
He run for cover behind a stack of crates and empty ammo boxes and waited. His heart raced as he started to panic. Two soldiers were coming towards him, looking right at his hiding spot! Mabey they hadn't seen him, mabey they were just coming to load the boxes.... ...... ...... ...... Damnit!
He ducked low and concentrated, warping the light around him until it passed over him. It started at his fingers first and crawled up his arm like a snake. His flesh went numb but still, he persisted. He was careful not to break concentration because doing so would probably mean his life. Besides, he was waaaaay too curious about this world to die now.
When his entire body was covered and unnoticeable, he slowly stepped out. No one turned an eye or ear to him. His brow was covered in sweat as he slowly regained confidence. Mabey he would make it out alive yet.
He calmly walked onto the plane and his in one of the crates to wait out the voyage. The light tapping of automatic gunfire could be heard in the distance coupled with the fragmented screams of the wounded and the deep booming of the artillery shells. The boxes were crushed beneath him and stuck into him at odd angles. He let himself drift off to pass the time.....
He called his name softly to himself, just to hear it vibrate in the air.
'Nicodemus.....'
It didn't mean alot to him, it was just the name the voice gave him. It was short and sweet really. He was told about himself and rushed though his older memories, the ones that portrayed his past life. Nothing more and nothing less. He just knew that he had to seek out someone or another. Tch, who knew? He laughed himself to sleep, thinking of how screwed up his life had become. He even thought he heard someone laughing just before everything went black.
Hours, no, days later he woke up to discover that everything was still. No engines buzzing, no shuffling of boxes just silence. He cautiously opened the lid of the box and stepped out. The plane was in a hangar and lo and behold! More stupid boxes for miles around..... What would really shock him however, was the color of his skin. His clothes were too tight around him and bunched up oddly. Usually this wouldn't be a problem but he noticed that his pants were a bit too crowded too. He reached behind to adjust himself and stopped cold. Calmly and completely without care, he pulled a fox tail. A red one too.
He nodded to himself, shocked beyond words but none of it showed.
"Alright, this is a bit weird. Nothing I can't handle but still weird."
He tugged on the rest of his clothes, loosening them up. He very last thing he did was look down the front of his pants.
"Not good...."