#desolate streets

[bwpstreets]

Portland Oregon Dec 2020. 

[travis-grady-blog]

Same nightmare, different day.

[[ Anybody feel like playing with Travis? 8D ]] Travis found himself mindlessly swinging the pipe at the monsters, knocking each of them down with one or two well-aimed hits. God, it felt like it had been forever since he'd done this. And yet, his body seemed to remember exactly what to do. He didn't even have to think at all; his body would react to a monster's presence and deal with it accordingly. Once the crowd of creatures had diminished to only a handful, Travis turned on his heel and sprinted off down the street. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he needed to get there... fast.  A familiar building in the distance caught his eye. The hospital looked even more deserted in the daytime than it did at night. As he looked over his shoulder, a large, hard formation collided with him. He let out an involuntary yell of pain as he fell over, pain shooting up his right arm as soon as he hit the ground. Cradling his wounded arm, Travis tried to scramble away from the hideous, familiar creature before him. It resembled a man, but in place of a head, it had a large gray helmet clamped down on its neck. A blood-stained apron covered the rest of its body. The creature held a giant knife, that looked like it could behead Travis with a flick of the creature's wrist.  "H-hey!" he called out, glancing around wildly. "Anyone here? I need some help!" No one answered, leaving Travis with the sinking realization that he was all alone... again. For the first time since his return, honest terror swept through his body, making his figure convulse in a shiver. The monster suddenly picked him up by the neck, cutting off his circulation. Travis gasped for air as his vision blurred. The pounding of his pulse in his head became the only thing he could hear.  The Butcher suddenly held Travis high in the air and flung him over his shoulder, making Travis fly through the air and hit the wall of the hospital - hard. His back hit first, his head following with a sickening crack. It was then that he awoke, his brown eyes opening wide. He moaned loudly and rolled his now bloodied head to the side, looking around... wherever he had passed out. Oh, right... he'd been in a car accident and had been thrown through the windshield. He'd walked blindly for a while, but didn't know where he'd ended up.  "H-... hello?" he said as he dragged himself to his feet and adjusted his trucker hat, his scratchy voice cracking a bit. "I... I need some help..."