Remnants of Humanity (Vincent's Intro)

[Wepon]

“It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.”



۩

Silence.

That seemed to be all that echoed around the place. Or perhaps it wasn't silence, but the sound of death. However, even silence was meant to be shattered by a silver tongue, the air broken by the untamed discord of zombie-like wails and the occasional flurry of gunshots. Hoards managed to stir the air with their deafening screeches and howls, but one was found tucked away from the madness, oddly quiet considering his Infected state.

The rough figure of a hunter barely stood out against the grungy side of a building, appearing as a gaunt, hooded shadow printed on top of the gritty brick. Vincent wasn't much for quietness, the mere drops of silence making him want to claw his eyes out for the umpteenth time. However, he resisted doing such, gaping holes in his skull a bitter reminder of what the infection had done to him. But hell, it didn't bother him much. After all, he was on the winning side. The survivors could only run for so long until death caught up with them.

However, being the smart little thing that Vincent was, he'd decided it would be HILARIOUS to startle a witch as a.. 'joke'. But his escapades had earned him nothing short of a commotion, coupled with a small scratch on his cheek, blood clotting up around it in futile attempt to cease the loss of vital body fluids. He'd ran away from the horde, seeking solace in a nearby alleyway. Now, rifling through the trash that littered the uneven flooring, claws gently brushed against the twisted metal heaps and various garbage, including fast food wrappers, newspapers, bits and shards of glass and the like.

However, something shiny caught his attention, and head jerked to the side, focusing on where it'd come from acutely, cocking his head as the empty holes in his face seemed to smolder with curiosity, daring him to start forwards on all fours to inspect his little discovery. Claws brushed against something metallic, clutching into fists and gripping a small, square object. Tongue pressed itself against his cheek in thought, staring for a second as he turned it over in his hands.

What's this?

What sounded like a confused growl managed to slip past Vincent's lips, one claw tapping on the screen experimentally, leaving a small scratch where his finger had presently been. The small disc below the screen intrigued him, prompting the infected to repeatedly tap on the button in the center, before attention shifted to the earbuds stemming from the strange little object. He rocked back for a second before falling flat on his behind, legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the small object in his hands, obviously curious at what he currently held.

[Fridge]

He was hungry. Oh, yes, he was hungry and he could do nothing against it, to fight the clenching and the gnawing at his stomach. Whannell hadn't seen a survivor in days, losing track of them after being chased silly around the sewers and mountain ranges of Nazareth and beyond by a Boomer. The fat things could hardly wobble after him, but the puke and hordes following their round hides did scare him senseless. And now he wandered those empty streets, looking for his solace from the common infected that scraped his shoulders, earnestly mimicking his squeals and attacks on the humans. He could smell them. Their filthy stench taking up the main streets and the roof tops, a place he not dared wander. The alleys were of grime and brick, wafting spices of burnt flesh from lit trash cans that clusters of zombies met, though towards the end that mystery awaited him. A male infected ran up to him in a camouflage pattern after he bumped shoulders with the creature, the claws not hesitating to leave him scathed and battle weary. His throat squeezed in a complimentary squeal, the yell bouncing of the walls of the back of the building and the thick ambiance around the group. The surprised notion did cause the group of infected to drop their hands, their heads to the prominent moon overhead and leave the Hunter be just for another moment. Like he was in a game of leapfrog, the young man crouched to to earth and hobbled to the end ways of the alley, where a fellow infected was rifling through a large trash bin.

The musings of something exciting did pique his short attention, and he soon decided to intrude in the matters of the other. He lifted himself with a heave on a neighbouring trash bin, the closed barrel usually not holding anything useful to Whannell, and so he used them for launch pads to leap from if he did find the remnants of humans, to which he'd hopefully get a nice snack to lick his carmine lips about. He felt the odd realization, dawning on his child like mind, that he had met this particular Hunter before, and retained some sort of liking to him. Then again, he felt that way to exactly every other infected he met, and it shouldn't change this. Oh, but he was of his kind, and was intrigued by some sort of slim, shiny device. He held it delicately like a thin bone in his hands, his claws already left a mark on the reflective mark. What an odd little piece of machinery some humans left behind...

"Hm?"

Whannell noticed the graying buds hanging slack from his new found companion's vision, yanking them whether in the hands of the potentially dangerous zombie or not, same as the slick device that interested them both. It was his turn to admire the piece the other Hunter brought for show and tell. Claws gripped one of the small, tiny in fact, buds and held it to his face while the second plastic mold fell to the air in a dangling fashion. A bloodied brow was raised as he clicked the buttons, that did interest him as well, on the disk like shape just below the glass already plagued with a claw mark. By accident, he pressed the large play button. A shriek of surprise once again flooded the alley as a loud, barbaric song was played before his face. Why, he'd never heard anything like it!

"I'll tell you want I want,
what I really, really want!
So, tell me what you want,
what you really, really want!"

[Wepon]

۩

"Tch.."

A soft hiss slipped past Vince's lips, the sound of footsteps breaking his concentration on his discovery. Hm? Who was this? Head turned at once, eyebrows furrowing above clawed out eyes, yellowed teeth gritting as muscles tensed to leap away from that who disturbed him. But all was not so, as he settled upon the fact that this was, indeed, a hunter. And a familiar one at that, if he was correct. Mouth opened in soundless greeting. Well, one that would've been vocalized, if his unknown companion hadn't snatched his prize from him then and there.

A high pitched wail sounded off in his throat, echoing against the walls of the alleyway and making his own ears ache, throat straining and resisting the horrible sound that flew forth from it. He was furious at such an act of impulsiveness. (Though, to be fair, Vincent was nothing short of impulsive, quite the contrary, really.) Nevertheless, teeth bared themselves, mucky-yellow and red things glinting threateningly. However, he wasn't one to attack, seeing as how he was relatively friendly with other infected. (And maybe even survivors, if caught in a good enough mood.)

A barrage of hisses and snarls came forth from him, or, well, what would've been understood as such. However, to a fellow infected, words would bounce off his tongue threateningly. (Or so how it sounded to him in his little prideful mind.)

"Give it ba-"

However, words were cut off when a horrendous sound came from the little metallic box he once held. Oh. My. GOD. What was that horrible noise!?! The words that were not understood curled into some horrifying tune, rattling around in Vince's brain tauntingly as ears began to ache from such a sound.

Throwing himself back, clawed hands would clap themselves over his hoodie, a agonizing cry wrenching free from his throat, adding onto the horrible sound that was currently flowing forth from the little box. Leaping onto the pavement as if it was some sort of solace away from the noise, legs would twitch and kick feebly at the air as the song continued to echo painfully in his head.

"I wanna,
I wanna,
I wanna,
I wanna,
I wanna really really really wanna zigazig ha!

[Fridge]

The sound was nothing short of purely heart wrenching wails, the way the survivors called out to each other, the words unknown in the newly infected mind but once familiar. Whannell could do nothing but shield his one ear, still gripping the reflective piece of cold metal, a strange and misplaced thing in this world of old brick and towering trees. He clicked furiously at the disk of buttons, his claws digging into the plastic and shards of metal scraping up at his blackened nails. His lips were parted in the beginning of a low growl, however all that escaped were a rush of words, running his mouth both in shock and despise at this mess of a song that would only continue.

"Please, stop, stop it!"

Whannell seemed to plead with the abnormal device, hoping it would grant both Hunters some peace for the time being, but it did nothing but grow increasingly louder as he haplessly played with the series of buttons, until it grew silent. He never knew what true peace in mind and heart was until the music box suddenly died off, the horrible, squeamish wails from the two white buds at the end of it leaving them both. Until another began. Would this never ending chain of horrendous sounds, as it never would, ever stop? The next song didn't start with the thick caterwauling of the previous one but the loud drumming of percussion and instrumentals until his real horror came knocking at the front door. Luckily, he stopped it in time with the click of a small button, and something touched him mentally. If he pressed this button again.. It did play, again, and he tried again by cutting the noise short.

"What is love-"

Whannell peered up from his hair, fallen in place just above his graying eye lashes, curiosity and a sudden spark of knowledge flickering in his hardly expressive eyes.

"There's a witch in the building across the street..."

[Wepon]

۩

Screaming heightened to a deafening caterwaul as the sound grew louder, pounding in his ears and bouncing off the insides of his skull, prompting his claws to raise threateningly near his eyes as if ready to claw them out all over again. Throat was already straining to choke out the high-pitched wails that came pouring out of his throat, and he was half surprised that no other infected had spared a passing glance as of now. But then again, perhaps they had no interest in such affairs with the two hunters, seeing as how Vincent had been chased off from the horde in the first place.

The godawful howl emitting from Vincent subsided slightly, allowing more garbled words to slip into his speech, voice strained and broken. Teeth clacked together loudly, obviously stunned by the loud noise.

"Kill it! Kill. It!."

He remained writhing there for a few more moments, legs kicking at the air madly. Oh my, he just wanted to murder the thing. Well, if machines could be murdered. But alas, Vincent had no current knowledge of what this machine was used for. Comprehension of what had been what was wiped from his mind, replaced with the primal fury and maddened aggression that came with the infection.

Why would the survivors listen to such a noise?! Mind howled, not getting why anything, let alone a living human-being, would wish to listen to such unspeakable sounds. When the so-called-music changed and eventually -gasp!- subsided, silence blissfully settled over Vincent, mouth closing and shutting off his yells of agony in a split second. Own breathing was the only thing that came from him, ears still ringing.

In a matter of seconds, he sprang up at the other's words, as if nothing had happened. Head cocked at what he'd said, before a stupid grin managed to spread across his face at the words of a witch nearby. Hmm... Witch? Mental gears turned, mind running amok and threatening to break down the walls of his skull themselves. Mwahahaha, god knows what lengths he'd go to in order to cause trouble.

"Ever try witch startling?"