☾ ⋆ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 for @emersonmonroe
it was a dumb idea, he should’ve seen it from the start. but he was cold, having trampled around in the river earlier, his sopping wet clothes were killer with the chill of the night. he had bet on no freshies being around, their ability to see often becoming deadly for survivors when the sun sets. so, he took his bets and built a fire.
riley’s doubt seemed to follow him everywhere, and soon enough, his worries were face to face. he was too far from his knife, and his gun just out of reach. dead hands were gripping tight and teeth were barring, all he could do was try to get away. before he knew it, heat was close and scolding, the flames scorched the skin, just long enough to hurt.
riley slammed the dead down, pulling himself from the flames, no flicker on his clothes as the water gave him relief. his skin wasn’t as lucky. half his arm covered red and black, pulsating. one quick movement and the knife was back in riley’s hand, soon plunging into a rotting skull. a sigh of exhaustion.
it was only then that riley became aware of the surging pain sourcing from his arm. “ fuck — i’m on fire ! “ his voice was cracked and broken, the years of silence weighing on his newly-used voice. though, he didn’t mean to scream.
“ thousand suns… — shit ! “
emerson had been drawn by the prospect of a fire. she’d seen it from a distance and had begun the trek towards it, hoping that she’d find someone friendly there. there had been way too many close calls, and being one her own at the moment had its disadvantages especially because you never knew what sort of survivors you’d come across. they could be kind and let you stick around for a bit or they could be the other sort... the kind she didn’t like to think about.
she’d just crept up to the suspected campsite and had been watching for a minute or two to see if she could judge what sort of person the man was ( she’d never had any luck with that either way so she wasn’t sure why she even bothered with it ) when the thing came out of nowhere and was on him.
“fuck,” she muttered, hoping that he had it under control because she’d never been that great in the whole rescue department. instead panic took over, and she froze instead of helping when she could have easily stepped in. but considering she only had a butcher’s knife, emerson doubted she’d be much help, but as she rose to go over and do something to help ( against her better judgement, of course ), the man seemed to get control of the situation, and the dead was no more. she stepped out the bushes only to freeze again at the sight of the stranger’s arm on fire.
“stop, drop, and roll,” she screeched, before she thought better about it. what fucking stupid advice. she pulled off her jacket instead and rushed over to try to pat it down. that always seemed to work in the movies.
