warnings: a bit angsty ig, hanahaki au, blood, sickness, throwing up, coughing and just general sick stuff
Orchids grow where others cannot.
This phrase reigns especially true when orchids begin to grow in your body. Scratching your throat and clogging up your lungs.
You try to laugh it off as a small cough, a small sickness, as if the whole thing didn’t fill you with dread when you thought about the invasive plant infesting your every breath.
It isn’t until finally you violently cough over your sink that a bloodied white orchid petal came fluttering out.
Were… you some form of mara struck? You wondered in confusion at the collection of petals that grew with each hack of your lungs.
The high elder —Bailu— immediately takes up your case. Which is potentially concerning as you’ve gone to about possibly any doctor that will see you for some kind of explanation to your floral fever and none of them have had anything good to say.
In fact, they have nothing to say about your illness. No one knew what was causing the orchids to bloom, making a home of your decaying body; a pretty parasite taking you ahold.
The little Vidyadhara girl frowned upon seeing the collection of whole flowers and crumbled petals, all coated with a splattered layer of dried blood.
Bailu’s eyes squinted as she observed the floral.
Perhaps, it was some kind of achievement that you had every doctor and healer on the luofu stumped at your conditions?
It isn’t until you’re coughing out another flower, this time red covering it was still vibrant and liquid, that the healer decided you were some form of mara struck and needed to be monitored closely. Even as she wrote out her prescription and made you promise to come back the next week, you could tell she wasn’t too sure about what she was saying.
That did absolutely nothing to calm your nerves.
You go home after collecting your prescription and puke out leaves and stems along with the flowers.
Despite your sickness, work is work, you decided, and working as a tutor was fulfilling for you. You hope —prayed— that the sight of your favorite student, Yanqing, would bring you some form of joy. The lesson went smoothly, though it was clear your student’s mind was up in the clouds, but you didn’t comment about it as yours was rooted deep elsewhere.
With the closing of the textbook, Yanqing’s eyes light up.
“Can we swordfight now?” The teenaged boy asked.
You almost said no.
You had realized early on that Yanqing would do his work and pay attention better if you found a way to relate it to swordsmanship, or if you promised that the two of you would spar a little after a lesson.
There was a growing weakness in your body. It seemed that describing the flowers as a parasite wasn’t inaccurate, as every day went on you felt them drain the energy out of you.
Yanqing waited for your response.
You nodded, standing up and picking up your sword from where it rested on a wall. Once, you had used it as a cloud knight, now it only ever saw use when teaching the blonde boy.
Yanqing excitedly ran to the other side of the room, drawing his sword and getting into position. He paused, looking over at you.
When did your eyes become so sunken in? Your hand shook as you held your sword up and it became increasingly clear to Yanqing that you were in no position to swordfight.
Your student called out your name, a hint of concern in his voice.
“I— Give me a moment—” You called out, placing a hand on your head as a sudden headache came, making your vision blur and your legs lose balance as you head tumbling for the floor.
Yanqing tossed his sword far away as he slid to catch you.
Bailu is halfway through her yearly appointment with the general when you come in with Yanqing by your side.
You mumbled apologies for the interruption and swore on your life you were fine.
You had honestly not realized how bad things had gotten in the few days from the last time you had seen the healer.
Your heart fluttered at the sight of Jing Yuan.
The orchid also fluttered out of your mouth in a set of coughs that leave you out of breath on the ground, Yanqing down at your side again.
There are multiple voices speaking but your mind can focus on none of them.
Jing Yuan helped you up and you feel your heart clench up as a choke comes to your throat.
More orchids.
He whispered to you in a soft voice, trying to help you through this coughing fit as Yanqing explained the situation that had happened just a few minutes before.
Bailu watched this, shock painted on the girls face as she realized two truths.
You were indeed mara struck, just with a rare mutation that had gone out thousands of years ago.
Warnings: blood, gore, mention and description of rotting corpses, swearing, guns, vomit, zombie children
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Gasping for air and with her sniper rifle firmly pressed against her heaving chest, Rachel collapsed on the lower balcony of a café. Her whole body was trembling and felt kind of numb, especially her legs, which had carried her all the way down here and up to that balcony in a race for life and death. From the inside of the building, she could still hear the gruesome howls of the dogs. Thank God she was able to lock them in the kitchen before they could get her. She didn't even want to imagine how ugly things could've gotten if she hadn't found that door in time.
And as she lay there, still out of breath and trying to process what the hell she had just witnessed in the past two hours, a hot, stabbing pain suddenly rushed through her body, starting from her calves all the way up to her sides and chest. “Shit!” The woman cursed in agony as she slowly and steadily became aware of every aching muscle in her body the more the adrenaline wore off. It felt like someone was tearing her apart piece by piece.
With half lidded eyes, she listened to the ear ringing sound of gunshots and screams which were accompanied by the shrill sound of police car sirens. Rachel frowned at the clear pictures her brain forcefully created in her head. To say she felt terrible for lying here and resting while hundreds of people were currently fighting for their lives would've been a huge understatement.
“Fuck it,” the sniper hissed through gritted teeth and forced herself into a sitting position, trying to ignore the burning and tearing feeling in her muscles as she leaned her upper body heavily against the cold stonewall. She had to call for backup. But as Rachel reached for her walkie-talkie, she was met with another unpleasant surprise. The holder where the device was supposed to be was empty. Rachel quickly reached for the other side, hoping that she had accidentally put it on the wrong holder. But when her hands couldn't feel it there either, a wave of panic rushed through her body.
'No. No. No. No.'
Frantically, the sniper searched her entire belt for the damn thing, even checking the holders on her jacket and the balcony floor as well as the area around the balcony. But no matter how much she cursed and pleaded, the walkie-talkie didn't magically reappear. It was gone. Her only way of communication with her team was fucking gone, lost somewhere in this goddamn city.
“Damn it!”
Feverishly, she thought about what she should do now. She knew she had to contact her team somehow, but the question was how and most importantly with what? She knew they had some spare walkie-talkies in the chopper, but to get there, she would have to go all the way back. And that meant she would run into them again.
Shuffling footsteps caught Rachel's attention. Carefully, and as quietly as possible, she crept closer to the railing and peered down through the bars. The limping figure of a woman strode down the alley, on the back of her light blue shirt Rachel could make out three white letters. “RPD,” she mumbled and was immediately thunderstruck. Why hadn't she thought of that right away? The local police station was full of radios and with some luck, she would be able to get her hands on one and call her team.
'Provided they're still alive.' Rachel thought grimly and immediately got flashbacks of Monty's gruesome death, his screams and pleads for help still ringing in her ears. The sniper shook her head in an attempt to get the pictures out of her head. If she started thinking like this now, she might as well could give up and lie down in the gutter to die. Not only was she doubting her team's abilities and her captain's leadership with this kind of thoughts, no, she was also discouraging herself and thus making herself vulnerable. If Rachel wanted to survive in this hell hole and return home alive and in one piece, she'd have to remain positive and have faith in her team.
As soon as the area was clear, Rachel climbed over the railing and ran straight to the nearest alley. On the other side of the narrow passage, the sniper was met with a horrible sight. About forty to fifty mangled bodies littered the paved ground and covered its surface with their intestines and gallons of blood. The smell of burnt wood and flesh, mixed with the overwhelmingly sweet stench of decay, gasoline and a hint of black powder lingered in the air. Rachel could not only see, but almost taste the despair and horror that had taken place here not so long ago.
With her rifle at the ready and her ears strained, the sniper walked past the dead, half eaten bodies. Every step she took was accompanied by the squelching sound her heavy boots made as she treaded through the thick pools of blood and guts. No words could describe how utterly horrified and heartbroken Rachel felt when she had to step over all these dead people. But what made the whole scenery even worse was the fact that many of the corpses belonged to children who were barely older than eight or ten. Children, who had been abandoned by the adults and were forced to defend themselves against a force not even the police could withstand.
Rachel tried to keep it together, tried not to let the cruelty of the situation affect her, but when she came across the body of a young boy who looked like he just started school, her heart just dropped. With the bitter taste of bile in her mouth, she knelt beside the child. Her grey eyes full of sorrow and pain.
“I'm so sorry little one,” she whispered hoarsely and noticed a little stuffed bear next to the boy. Quietly, Rachel reached for the stuffed animal and placed it back in the boy's arms. For a few more seconds, Rachel lingered beside the boy, silently paying the child her respect and apologising for not being there in time, before she finally found the strength to pick herself up to continue her way through the sea of corpses. But just as she was back on her feet again, she noticed some movements in the corner of her eye. At first, she had the hope that at least one of the children had only been unconscious. But when Rachel turned around and caught sight of the figure, she became painfully aware that this child was just another one of those mindless killing machines.
Groaning and hissing, the little girl stumbled forward. Thick streams of blood poured from the wounds on her body and bits of her intestines dangled loosely in front of her legs. The sniper slowly backed away, the barrel of her rifle pointed at the child. And as if that wasn't bad enough already, more bodies now began to stir as well. “Don't come any closer!” Rachel warned and watched in horror as more and more children began to get back up again and move towards her. But none of them listened to her command. Rachel tried again, this time with much more severity. Again, her words were completely ignored.
She knew what she had to do. These children were no longer human and therefore it was okay to shoot them in order to protect herself. But even though her own life was at risk here, she just couldn't find the strength nor the heart to pull the trigger. Instead, Rachel lowered her weapon and looked at the children with sorrowful eyes while making sure to keep a sufficient distance. She wanted to help them so bad, but she didn't know how, or if there was even a way to cure them from whatever sickness had befallen them. And this helplessness almost drove her insane. But, and as sad and heartbreaking as it sounded, Rachel could not lose sight of her mission. There were still hundreds, if not thousands of people out there who needed her help and she couldn't let them down too. After one long lasting pitying look, the sniper quietly turned around and just walked away.
Not even a few hundred metres further on, she encountered more of those vile creatures. This time; however, it weren't children. So, the sadness and grief from before suddenly turned into rage and hatred. In an blink of an eye, Rachel had the barrel of her rifle pointed at one of those things and was ready to blow its head away for good. But she hesitated. Again. This time, it was the rational part of her brain that stopped her from doing it, because deep down, Rachel knew that it was ridiculous to blame these people, who had clearly been infected with the same sickness and no control over themselves, for all this. She knew it was foolish, and yet somewhere in her emotionally corrupted mind, it somehow made perfect sense to blame them. It also made her feel a little bit better about herself and her own failure, because if it weren't for them, none of this would ever have happened. Right?
Still on edge, Rachel kept her rifle pointed at the zombie, almost as if she were waiting for a signal. And although everything in her screamed to shoot that bastard, her finger was frozen on the trigger. Yes, part of her wanted them to pay for what they had done to those poor children, but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to do it. After all, these were also just people who had fallen victim to the circumstances. Besides - and Rachel realised this just now - such a rash action would only attract lots of unnecessary and unwanted attention towards her. And considering how many of these creatures walked around here, it was safe to say that she wouldn't stand a chance against them on her own. Which ultimately made the decision so much easier, speaking from a rational point of view. And so, after a long moment of hesitation and consideration, Rachel decided to lower her weapon. After all, she wouldn't be of use for anyone if she ended up as their next meal.
With a pounding heart and as quietly as possible, Rachel carefully manoeuvred herself through the crowd of living corpses. Every now and then, one of them noticed her and tried his luck, but thanks to their limited abilities in terms of movement and speed, they were no match for the sniper. Even with the condition she was currently in. All she had to do was to avoid being cornered which was surprisingly easy, given that the street was littered with cars, barricades and other objects such as trash bins and all kinds of junk. And as she strode through the crowd, her eyes scanned the area for anything that could be used as a landmark.
She already had a vague idea where she was, but since Raccoon had only really gained in population in the last thirty or so years and had basically been more of a large village than a city, it was not surprising that the old parts of the city in particular looked very similar to each other. Fortunately, after about ten minutes, Rachel finally stumbled across something that definitely would help her find her way through the city. It was an old fountain guarded by four very tall oak trees and from which four paths - which were made of white cobblestones - led to different parts of the city. A quick check on the bright green sign at the beginning of the path then confirmed Rachel's presumption. Slowly, the sniper made her way down the path.
A feeling of deep sadness came over the woman when she saw that this once so beautiful, peaceful place hadn't been spared by the brutality of the monsters either. The whole ground was painted with blood and housed a disturbingly large population of crows, which aggressively pecked at the carcasses and got into even more aggressive fights over the rotting meat. And the ones that weren't fighting or eating sat in the treetops and cawed warningly at the intruder. Normally, Rachel wouldn't have paid them any attention, but after the recent encounters, she felt uneasy and threatened by everything and everyone that wasn't part of her team.
With her rifle at the ready, the sniper kept an eye on the birds while she headed to the fountain to wash off the dirt and dried blood and to refresh herself a little. But, as soon as she got there, she immediately backed away. The water smelled foul and had a light yellowish colour, which was weird, considering that the fountain was directly connected to Circular River - one of the three rivers that provided the city with drinking water. It was also the only river that went through the city, parting it into West and East Raccoon.
Startled by Rachel's sudden movement, the crows began to caw loudly as they flew into the air. Their silky, black feathers and long, sharp claws shone brightly in the late September sun. But instead of flying away - as they normally would have done - they began to form a flock, and in the blink of an eye, a huge, pitch-black cloud of birds was over Rachel's head, giving her only a split second to react before the first crow swooped down on her. The others soon followed. Their loud, angered caws were deafening and almost as painful as their claws and beaks. Luckily, the fabric of Rachel's jacket was thick enough to protect her from most damage. Her ears and and face; however, weren't nearly as protected, even with her arm in front of it. And just a moment later, a sharp, jabbing pain shot through the left side of Rachel's head, as one of these ferocious beasts got a hold of her ear and began to violently pull and tug at it, until she could feel it tear apart. Screaming and cursing, the woman raised her arms and fired three warning shots into the air, causing the birds to scatter away in fright. With her hand firmly pressed against her left ear, the sniper whirled around and ran up the cobbled path, ignoring the throbbing pain and the warm liquid that ran down her neck.
She hadn't even made it halfway along the path yet when she noticed a huge shadow looming over her. A quick glance over her shoulder then revealed that the crows had regrouped and - spurred on by the smell of fresh blood and her hectic movements - gotten even more aggressive now.
Shit.
Driven by madness and bloodlust, the feathered monsters lunged at the sniper, pecking at her mercilessly and even trying to gouge out her eyes. Rachel tried her best to bat them away, using only one arm as the other was covering her face to shield it from the attacks. But none of her attempts were really successful, they actually seemed to irritate the birds even more, which, to put it mildly, was not a very good option. In her desperation, Rachel used her rifle once again, and this time, she even managed to strike one of them down. This gave her a short breather which she used to look around for anything that could be used as a shelter. But since she was in an open terrain with only a few benches and trees, as well as some undergrowth, it was straight up impossible to find anything of that sort here. Leaving Rachel no other choice but to keep running while death was practically breathing down her neck.
However, this quickly turned out to be a challenge as she gradually ran out of steam. With every passing second, her muscles and lungs protested more and more against the extra strain she put them through, begging her for a break which Rachel simply couldn't afford, unless she wanted to be pecked to death. And the fact that her heart was also beginning to act up as it reached its limits only added more to Rachel's growing panic. Through gritted teeth, the sniper puffed out ragged breaths; each more painful than the last as she forced herself to keep up the pace, regardless of the unimaginable pain she was in. She didn't want to die just yet. And certainly not like this. Fortunately for her, this determination paid off only moments later when the tops of a stone wall peeked out from behind the small hill. Encouraged by the sudden prospect of rescue, Rachel somehow managed to push herself beyond her own limits.
As soon as she had reached the wall, Rachel began to look for an entrance or a hole she could squeeze through. She quickly found what she was looking for and hurried through the gigantic iron gate, which had been ripped off its hinges. Under different circumstances, this would've worried and perhaps even deterred her. But, when you're chased by a flock of hyper aggressive ravens who want you dead no matter what, such things suddenly became unimportant. At least for the moment.
With drumming steps, the sniper ran across the cobbled ground. Her eyes darted from left to right, searching for a building or something similar to hide in, while those damned critters kept swooping and pecking at her. Less than a hundred feet away, she could make out a whole row of buildings. Relieved, she headed for the first of them - a souvenir shop - while silently praying that it wasn't locked. Fortunately for her, it wasn't and wthin a split second, the sniper had yanked the glass door open and scurried inside, before she slammed it loudly behind her. With widened eyes, she watched as the crows crashed against the glass, their beaks and claws tapping and scratching aggressively against the solid surface. For a brief moment, Rachel was worried it might not withstand them and that she had signed her own death with her decision. She even looked around for a second entrance, in case those fuckers broke through the windows. But after what felt like an eternity, the crows seemed to finally have given up.
With a deep exhale of relief, Rachel slid down the counter and spend the next fifteen minutes sitting there in complete silence and without moving an inch. Her whole body ached and even breathing was painful and felt like her lungs were filled with glass shards. Words could not describe how badly she wanted to just curl up into a ball and pass out for the next ten or so years. Even an hour or two would've been okay, as long as she could escape this nightmare for a while. But the fear of what might happen to her if she dared to rest was enough to keep her awake and alerted. And of course the pain. The continuous burning and throbbing in her ear, as well as the warm, almost sticky sensation of the steadily oozing blood almost drove her crazy. What finished her off; however, and finally caused her to heave herself back onto her feet with a painful groan, was that unbearable thirst.
Laboriously, Rachel trotted through the shop over to the vending machine to help herself to some bottles of water. But since she had no change and it basically didn't matter anyway whether she paid for them or just took them, Rachel simply smashed the glass with the handle of her hunting knife and grabbed as many bottles as she could carry.
Greedily, she downed three small bottles in one go. The water had a slight taste of plastic to it, something that Rachel normally couldn't stand, but right now, it tasted like the freshest spring water. Now refreshed and feeling slightly better, Rachel began to look for a first aid kit to treat her wounds with. After a few minutes of looking around, she found one behind the checkout counter.
Armed with a bottle of water, antiseptic and a few wipes, she then went to the staff toilet. In there, she immediately locked the door behind her and even double checked it, before she began to carefully clean and inspect the wounds. She really had expected them to look worse, but most of them were just little scratches with barely any dried blood on them. Her ear; however, was a whole different story. It was, in fact, torn in the middle and blood was still seeping out of it.
”Fucking cunts,” Rachel hissed as she pressed the wipe against her ear. A few tears began to form in her eyes at the burning sensation of the antiseptic and she really had to restrain herself from using all the swear words she knew. She wasn't a doctor, but even she knew that this would leave a nasty scar. Which meant she'd be in for one hell of a scolding from Mamushka once she got back home.“If I ever come back home that is,” the sniper mumbled to herself and for the very first time ever since she had joined S.A.A.T., she wasn't so sure if she'd ever return home or of this might even be her last mission.
A few minutes and several curses later, Rachel was done tormenting herself and back in the shop again. Not sure what she should do now, the sniper sat down and stared out of the windows, silently debating with her inner voice whether it would be a good idea to go outside again, or if she should call it a day and rest a little. She was about to decide for the latter, when a shuffling sound, followed by a soft groaning caught her attention.
Rachel quickly grabbed her rifle and got up as quietly as humanly possible, not wanting to attract whatever was causing these noises attention. Her mind and heart were racing as she listened to the familiar sounds. 'Please, not again', she prayed silently and slowly made her way to the corner from which the groaning came from. Her legs felt like jello when she noticed a gloved hand underneath a pile of clothes, moving around carefully as if it was looking for something. Again, a soft groaning, followed by a raspy “Hello?”, sounded from underneath the overturned clothes rack. Rachel immediately felt like the whole world had begun to spin around her.
“Isaac?!” the young sniper almost yelled and ran towards the pile, frantically digging out her teammate. As soon as she had reached the lowest layer of clothes, she let out a loud gasp. Her gloved hands, as well as the skattered clothes and the wooden floor, were covered in blood. “What happened to you?” Rachel asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Monsters.... couldn't save them....” the older man croaked weakly and was interrupted by a dry cough. His usually lively brown eyes had lost all lustre and were now dull with pain as his body was shaken by the coughing fit. Rachel bit her lower lip and waited until it had died down a little, before she helped friend into a sitting position where she could take a better look at his wounds. “I'll be right back, okay?” Rachel said and rushed to get the first aid kit and some water. When she came back, she handed Isaac three bottles, which he gratefully accepted.
“Let me know if you need more,” she said and didn't wait for a response as she immediately began to carefully remove the blood-soaked bandages on Isaac's leg and torso. Every now and then she stopped to let Isaac, who was obviously in a lot of pain, take a few breaths before she continued to unwrap his injured body parts. To distract him a little and also because she was dying to know what happened to the others, and especially if her younger brother was still alive, Rachel began to grill Isaac with all sorts of questions. Sadly, not all of them could be answered by the pilot, which left Rachel with a new kind of fear and hopelessness. Once Isaac's wounds were exposed, Rachel couldn't help but let out a shocked gasp. Both his leg and his torso were missing whole pieces. Even without medical training, it was quite obvious that things weren't looking all too good for him.
“Sorry, kiddo. Should've given ya a warning,” the elderly pilot groaned, gripping the empty water bottle tightly.
“It's fine, don't worry about me,” Rachel simply replied and began to clean the flesh wound on her teammate's leg. Even now, blood was still seeping out of it and building a small puddle around the two soldiers. A short glance at Isaac's pale figure made Rachel frown. He must've lost a lot of blood, considering that he was nearly as white as the wall behind him. Rachel knew she had to get him to a hospital asap.
“How're you, kid? We thought we lost ya.”
Rachel's first thought was to tell Isaac about all the horrible things she had been through in the last few hours. But one look at his injuries was enough to remind her that her horror was nothing compared to what Isaac had been through. So, instead of falling into a lengthy rant about the things she had to witness, she just shrugged and mumbled a half-hearted “Could be better.”
“It really could be,” the pilot agreed and let out a long, suffering groan which was interrupted by another coughing fit. “I'm glad...you're still alive though. We all were so worried when you didn't respond.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I lost my walkie talkie somewhere in this death zone,” the sniper said and suddenly looked up at Isaac. “Speaking of which. You don't happen to have yours with you, do you?” The woman asked hopefully, but felt her heart sink the moment the older man shook his head. Rachel sighed and reached for the antiseptic. “This is gonna hurt, just a heads-up.”
Isaac gave a short, gruff laugh. “It's not like I've been walking in a flower field lately, Missy. I'll manage.”
Rachel took note of her friend's eccentric remark with the faintest of smiles, before she poured half the bottle onto the wound, resulting in Isaac nearly throwing a fit. The sniper felt bad, she really did. But she had to do this if she wanted to prevent Isaac from getting an infection and dying of sepsis.
“I need you to lift your leg a little so I can put a pressure bandage on you.”
Unable to talk due to the immense pain, the pilot just nodded and did what Rachel had asked him to and lifted his leg while hissing all kinds of curses through gritted teeth; even ones Rachel had never heard before. After she was done with the leg, the young woman repeated the whole procedure on Isaac's torso. With every flinch and every curse he threw at her, Isaac worsened the feeling of guilt that was eating away at her for causing him pain. And after what felt like a whole lifetime, Rachel could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Isaac's wounds were now treated, albeit not professionally, but it was still better than nothing. The main thing was that the bandages served their purpose until they got to the nearest hospital for better treatment.
“And you're sure you can pull through?” Rachel asked as she put Isaac's arm around her shoulder so he could lean against her and relieve the pressure on his leg as much as possible. “Do I have much of a choice?” the pilot asked through gritted teeth, not really giving Rachel the chance to give an answer as he nodded towards the door. The sniper just nodded in response and headed for the exit.
Outside, they were met with an eerie silence, not even a bird could be heard. It was almost like the whole world had fallen asleep. Rachel didn't know whether she should find that relieving or threatening. Isaac noticed his teammate's sudden tension and gave her a reassuring nudge. “The longer we stand here, the higher the chances are that one of those things finds us,” he reminded her, indirectly urging her to move.
Half dragging, half walking, the sniper moved past the row of buildings, always on guard for any potential enemies. Every now and then, her eyes wandered to Isaac who, though she was practically carrying him at this point, had trouble keeping up with her. The only thing that kept him from collapsing were Rachel and his unbreakable will, as well as his natural stubbornness. Something, the sniper had always admired him for. Nevertheless, even the greatest stubbornness didn't stand a chance against the consequences that such deep wounds entailed. With a heavy heart, Rachel was forced to watch as her teammate and friend began to struggle more and more not to lose consciousness the further they walked. She could see that he was in horrible pain and already exhausted from the short walk. She did offer him to take a short break a few times, but Isaac, being the rock-headed man he is, declined every time and insisted that they kept moving. And so they did. Slowly and with a lot of stumbling, yes, but at least they didn't came to a halt.
Nervously, Rachel kept looking around, always expecting a monster around the next corner as they trudged through the empty street. She still didn't feel quite comfortable with the sudden silence, and part of her feared that this was just the calm before the storm. On the other hand, it made listening for these things, zombies as Isaac had called them, a lot easier. So, maybe it wasn't too bad after all.
It was still quite a bit of a way to the hospital, and considering Isaac's condition, it would take at least double the amount of time until they got there. But with no zombies to bother them, Rachel was quite positive that things would turn out well for both Isaac and her. However, this all changed when Isaac suddenly began to throw up. At first, Rachel thought it was due to the stress and pain, but as soon as she noticed the sickening amount of blood mixed within, she knew that things were a lot worse than she had initially thought.
“Help......me....”
With her mouth agape, Rachel just stood there, practically frozen in place as she watched Isaac throw up another load of bloody vomit. His nearly white face and sunken eyes, which looked at her pleadingly, made Rachel shudder. He looked more dead than alive. Only when the older man had slumped to the ground did life return to the sniper's body. Within a heartbeat, she was by his side and pulled him out of the pool of vomit and blood. Rachel noticed that Isaac's leg wound had begun to bleed again and soon the bandages were completely soaked.
Fuck.
“Come on Falcon, you can't die on me now!” Rachel begged and, with great effort, managed to drag her teammate's limp body to a semi secluded area where she brought him into a sitting position. Repeatedly, she smacked his cheek with the back of her hand in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness, while her other hand was pressed firmly on his wound. But the only response she got was a low groan.
“Please, not you too,” the sniper pleaded with growing despair as Isaac's life practically flowed away between her fingers. She had already failed to save Monty, she couldn't let Isaac die too. She just couldn't.
“Hang in there, you hear me? We're almost at the hospital, you just have to hang on! Please...”
But all of Rachel's efforts were in vain. With his last breath, Isaac let go of what little life he had left before he slumped to the side only a second later. He was gone. Stunned, Rachel stared at her bloodied hands, then at Isaac's pale, lifeless face and then back at her hands again. Slowly, the realisation that she had failed another one of her teammates and friends found its way into her mind. It was as if someone was screaming the same words at her over and over again while getting louder with every repeat. The words itself felt like a thousand daggers stabbing into her heart relentlessly.
She didn't know how long she exactly sat there with her hands still pressed on Isaac's leg, but Rachel honestly couldn't care any less. She didn't even feel like she was really there, everything felt numb and like it belonged to someone else. Moving her hands was a real feat of strength, and by the time she was back on her feet, Rachel felt like she had run a marathon. Her head was spinning and in order not to fall over, the sniper had to lean against a wall for support. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. But the fresh blood on her hands and Isaac's lifeless body in front of her told a different story.
Forcing herself to stop looking at Isaac, Rachel tried to come up with a new plan. She still needed to let her team know that she was alive and in need of backup, and that Isaac hadn't made it. But the police station was on the other side of the city and her mission was to look for civilians and evacuate them - with or without her team. If she headed for the police station now, she'd waste way too much time and risk the lives of more people. Besides, it was already starting to dawn and Rachel surely didn't want to spend the night outside with these things around.
After some careful consideration, the sniper came to the conclusion that going to the hospital was the best option she had at the moment, even though she had absolutely no idea what she might encounter there. But that was something to worry about once she got there. All she could do now was hope that things weren't as bad there as they were in this part of Raccoon. A stupid hope, no question, but hope and luck was all she got at the moment.
With a sigh, Rachel pushed herself from the wall and walked over to her fallen comrade to take one of his dog tags and to put him in a more honourable position. The last thing she wanted was to leave him lying there like a drunkard. But just as she was about to remove the dog tag, Isaac suddenly jerked his head around and stared at her with a pair of milky white pupils. The sniper let out a shocked gasp and had only a millisecond to process what was going on, when the S.A.A.T. pilot suddenly pushed himself up and, with a howl-like groan and bared teeth, threw himself on her.
“Isaac, what are you doing? Stop it, it's me, Rachel!” Rachel screamed while she tried to push her teammate off her, terrified by the dead look in his eyes and his superhuman like strength with which he held her down and slowly forced her arms to give way. To her desperate cries and pleas, the pilot just responded with a growl, while getting dangerously close to her neck, leaving the younger soldier no other choice but to kick him in the lower abdomen. The first few kicks didn't seem to bother him at all and Rachel slowly began to panic. After a few more attempts, she managed to place her foot on the man's belly and, with a forceful kick, flung him almost two feet to the ground. In a heartbeat, the sniper was on her feet and rushed over to grab her rifle. With a pounding heart and trembling arms, she watched as Isaac got back up again and stumbled towards her.
“Stop right there or I'll shoot!” the young woman commanded and took a few steps back, not wanting to shoot her friend, or get into another fight with him. But just like before, he didn't react to her. “I said stop. right. there!” Rachel now snarled, trying to mask her growing desperation and uncertainty. She didn't want to use her rifle against Isaac, she really didn't, because part of her still refused to believe that her friend was now a zombie, although it was more than obvious that the Isaac she knew was gone.
“Listen to me and freeze God damn it! I don't want to shoot you!” Rachel practically begged him now, her voice cracked and shaky as she was backed against a wall with no way to escape except for one. “Isaac please, snap out of it. I really don't want to do it.” The last part was merely a whisper, filled with sadness and remorse. Rachel knew her attempts at getting through to Isaac were useless and on top of that ridiculous and pathetic. She knew it and yet she somehow held onto that irrational hope that Isaac would recognise her if she just kept talking to him. But the closer he got, arms stretched out and bloody drool dripping down his chin while letting out the most gruesome groans and wails, Rachel finally admitted defeat. Swallowing hard, the sniper gave the older man, who had been like an uncle to her in the past four years, one last remorseful look before she pointed the barrel of her rifle at his forehead. “I'm sorry,” she whispered and looked away before she pulled the trigger, not wanting to see the bullet hit his head. It was already bad enough that she was the one who had to kill him, but seeing it happen was just unbearable for her.
The sound of the gunshot and Isaac's body hitting the concrete floor still rang in her ears as Rachel ran through the winding alleys and zombie-filled streets. The bitter taste of vomit that was still lingering in her mouth nearly caused her to throw up again as she kept searching the area for the gigantic white building with a red, illuminated cross on its roof. Where the fuck was that fucking hospital? It had to be here somewhere, Rachel was absolutely sure of that. It was quite a while since she had been there, yes, but unless they've build a new one, no one could miss it. Especially not with that cross.
Around the next corner, she finally found what she had been looking for. With a feeling of great relief, she ran towards the building. That relief and hopefulness; however, were crushed as soon as she spotted a group of about thirty zombies walking and stumbling around the parking lot in front of the main entrance. Entering the building from here was out of the question then.
Tense and without taking her eye off the zombies, Rachel circled the building from a safe distance, trying to find the entrance of the ER. A few minutes later, she had found it. Behind a barricade of cars and ambulances, lay her gate to safety. Luckily, only a few zombies lingered there, which would make dodging them a lot easier.
As quickly as possible Rachel jogged over to the entrance and wanted to open the door, but much to her horror, said door was locked.
“Fucking Christ!” The woman snapped and punched the glass. Of course they had locked the door. Why else would they build a barricade here? Annoyed, but taking this as a sign that she would at least meet survivors and possibly even her team in there, the sniper moved away from the entrance and started looking for open windows or vents. Again, she was blessed with enough luck and soon found an open window. The only problem: It was on the third floor and to reach it, she first had to climb over the balconies below and then somehow jump over from the third balcony. A breakneck action, no doubt, but nevertheless the only way to get into the building without being torn to pieces by zombies.
“Let's do it,” Rachel mumbled and climbed the first balcony, silently thanking Alexey for putting his team through his brutal training that climbing a balcony in full gear and with weapons attached to the holders was almost as easy as climbing a ladder to a treehouse. Huffing and with the help of a rain gutter pipe, Rachel climbed up to the third and last balcony where she hoisted herself over the railing with a grunt. Now came the dangerous part.
With narrowed eyes, Rachel estimated the distance from herself to the window. It wasn't too far, maybe six to seven feet at the most. With her hand gripping the wall tightly for support, she climbed on the railing. For the first time since she had arrived here, Rachel could take a deep breath without the sharp stench of decay clawing at her nostrils. She had almost forgotten how fresh air smelled and it had only been a few hours. Rachel took a few more deep breaths to ease her pounding heart and trembling legs. She wasn't afraid of high heights - that would be a huge problem in her field of work - but the fact that she was at least thirty feet above the ground and one false movement or step would send her straight to her death was enough to make her at least a little tense.
“There's no turning back now,” the young woman mumbled and put herself into the right position, focussing on her still shaky legs and her target. She had only one shot, so, failure was not an option.
'All or nothing.' The sniper thought and pushed herself from the railing. But the moment she leapt forward, one of her boots suddenly lost its grip on the iron bar, making a high pitched squeaking sound as it slipped over the edge. A wave of panic rushed through Rachel's body as she began to tumble in the air, the windowsill suddenly seemed further away than it was only a second ago.
'No!'
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—
Tag list: @mirandawesker @sassiest-captain @silvevia @dumb-of-ash
☆.｡.:* synopsis: you are a small streamer centered on cozy gaming and your ongoing series of ranking every taylor swift song in a tier list. scaramouche is a competitive speed runner in a streamer group called “the harbingers” that has an insanely large fan base. your paths only cross once he subtweets about your content and your favorite artist, causing a petty online argument that might lead to something else.
☆.｡.:* genre: smau, streamer/youtuber au, modern au, strangers to enemies to lovers, crack
☆.｡.:* warnings: swearing, kys & kms jokes, gender neutral reader, time stamps don’t matter, very much self indulgent
☆.｡.:* taglist: closed !
☆.｡.:* 4LIFERZZZ | Harbingers
01. no, nothing good starts
02. its me, hi, i’m the problem
03. you need to calm down
04. you’re being too loud
05. this is why we can’t have nice things
06. another day, another drama
07. so it goes...
08. it’s a typical tuesday night
09. went home and tried to stalk you on the internet
10. i hate you so much
11. on some new shit
12. and my mother accused me of losing my mind
13: live and die for moments 13.5: the songs we used to sing
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You are the adopted child of Ningguang, one of the most successful businesswoman in Teyvat and Beidou, a highly praised olympic medalist. In an attempt to please your parents, you go through with an arranged marriage with the son of the most politically powerful women in teyvat, Scaramouche. You realize quite fast that your new fiancé has no interest in you… but his best friend, Childe, does.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smau, polyam , modern au, gender neutral reader, arranged marriage, childhood friends to lovers, strangers to lovers
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, kys & kms jokes, time stamps don’t matter, mommy issues, lots of miscommunication and drama.
𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬: scara x reader x childe, heizou x kazuha, tighnari x albedo
authors note: filler content that i def didnt add last minute bc ujhhhhh im salty i didnt get taylor swift tickets and she preformed and like half the girls at my school went
☆.｡.:* cruel summer
☆.｡.:* synopsis: you are a small streamer centered on cozy gaming and your ongoing series of ranking every taylor swift song in a tier list. scaramouche is a competitive speed runner in a streamer group called “the harbingers” that has an insanely large fan base. your paths only cross once he subtweets about your content and your favorite artist, causing a petty online argument that might lead to something else.
☆.｡.:* synopsis: you are a small streamer centered on cozy gaming and your ongoing series of ranking every taylor swift song in a tier list. scaramouche is a competitive speed runner in a streamer group called “the harbingers” that has an insanely large fan base. your paths only cross once he subtweets about your content and your favorite artist, causing a petty online argument that might lead to something else.
the next time you saw Scaramouche at your internship, you’re balancing books on your desk to create a makeshift tripod.
“What are you doing?” Scaramouche said as he slammed something down on your desk, causing your phone and books to go tumbling down.
It had turned out that Yae’s publishing house didn’t have a TikTok page. No matter your feelings on the app, you were a streamer first before a social media intern. Not having one was like turning away free advertisement.
After a good thirty minutes explaining to your boss why it would be beneficial, you were given the green light to make an account and start making videos on it. You then had to go through the kind of boring process of setting up the account and getting it verified, but once that was done, you were set.
“Hey my sh— Is that the tour shirt from the Taylor swift concert??!” You gasp, picking up the shirt from where Scaramouche had placed it.
“Obviously?” Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “What else would it be?”
“I don’t know,” You said with a goofy smile. You honestly didn’t think you were going to get a shirt from the concert at all. “Aww, I didn’t know you would do something so nice for me,”
“The fuck makes you think I got it for you? Childe made me get it for myself, but obviously I don’t want it,” Scaramouche crosses his arms.
“Right, but you still gave it to me so…”
“Do you want the shirt or not?”
“Fineee,” You grin. “Thank you, though, really!”
“Whatever,” He said, walking away.
You see Scaramouche again that day. he’s following around Yae Miko… the ceo of the company. You decided it was your job as an intern to stay out of the way.
“Kuni, would you be a dear and reschedule the meeting I have at six to be at seven? And add a spa and nail appointment at five. My nails are getting a bit too long,” Mrs. Miko said as she walks past the various unpaid interns working in the office, who all followed the same rule as many would at a school. Don’t make eye contact and you won’t be called on.
“And then send a message to your mother asking what date she would like to host our next charity event,” Scaramouche passes by your desk with a deadpanned and tired stare, and you figured you were lucky you didn’t have whatever his job was.
“Oh, and once you’re done with that, go ahead and fetch me my order from the coffee shop across the street,” She adds, turning to look at him. “Got it?”
Scaramouche replies with gritted teeth. “Got it,”
It turns out people on the internet tend to eat up whatever content you give them if you put trending audios on the videos you post, however eventually people get a little tired of the sixth books as Taylor swift songs tiktoks you post. It’s not to say that doesn’t work, no, you managed to get quite a following on the brand account.
It isn’t until you came up with a better idea of interviewing authors that the following grew to be something similar to other brands on the app.
Starting off with Kokomi Sangonomiya, author of a ongoing fantasy novel series, many people found interest in the idea of asking questions to their favorite authors and their books. With the success comes a budget and an actual job offering.
It isn’t until you’re sitting with Xingqiu, a young and best selling author, that you realize your relationship with Scaramouche has certainly changed a bit from what it originally was.
You’re given a small space to record, decorated nicely for the author to sit and discuss. You fidget around with the camera settings as it was different from the one you used at home.
A small knock comes and you turn to see Scaramouche standing in the door way with a take out bag.
“Figured you didn’t eat lunch,” He said, placing the bag on an empty table. It was about a month into your internship turned job and you had made a small habit of eating lunch with Scaramouche. It was honestly nice to get to know him outside of streaming.
“Oh! Hi, Scara,” You perk up, pulling away from the camera you were adjusting. "Hiding from your step mom?” You jokingly ask, ignoring that he was right and you actually hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
“Only a little,” He replies. “I got something from the Sumeruan place you like,”
Your face lights up. You forgot you had even mentioned that restaurant to him beforehand.
Xingqiu clears his throat a bit awkwardly.
Right, back to filming….
authors note: being real w u guys im not interested in writing this story anymore so im kinda rushing the plot a lil so i can finish this story so its not left unfinished. also dream mentioned in the first image is a ref to aris's new smau on this blog <3 also this is the 100th post on this blog teehee
☆.｡.:* synopsis: you are a small streamer centered on cozy gaming and your ongoing series of ranking every taylor swift song in a tier list. scaramouche is a competitive speed runner in a streamer group called “the harbingers” that has an insanely large fan base. your paths only cross once he subtweets about your content and your favorite artist, causing a petty online argument that might lead to something else.
Your first day of your internship consisted of a woman with short purple hair monotonously showing you around the building, a quick but fairly knowledgeable tour about the place and a quick rundown of what you’d be doing. It was hard not to look at the place with some rose-colored glasses as you had dreamed of working at Yae’s Publishing house for a while now…. but in all honesty, it was just another big business similar to something of a workplace drama set.
The main thing that got you the internship with no prior experience in the publishing field was your streaming following. Deciding to use that for the best, you applied to be a social media intern and just like that, you were accepted. So, summer internship was in the bag! You wished to be editing and maybe writing books instead of planning posting schedules and submitting ideas for videos, could you really complain? It was all a part of putting your foot in the door!
Your mind wandered ever so slightly as your tour guide —her name tag reads the name “Sho”— continued on about something you were really only half paying attention to.
She was a fairly pretty woman, though, your focus on her face was probably due to the fact that she looked just like Scaramouche. In fact, the two could probably be twins with the way they resembled each other. Though, her eyes didn’t crinkle the same way Scara’s did when he smiled… but that was a comparison you felt a little embarrassed to realize. So what if you had been a little nervous the night before and watched his newest face cam stream? It didn’t mean anything…. did it?
“—Understood?” Sho said as you tuned back into her words.
“I apologize, but could you repeat that?” You said with a sheepish smile, feeling embarrassed for spacing out during your first day.
She sighed, but repeated her words nonetheless. “This is your desk space—” She gestures towards a small but usable desk. “— and these are the passwords for our social media accounts,” Sho handed you a sheet of paper.
“Ah, thank you!” You placed your laptop bag down on the desk, taking the paper from her hands and taking a quick look at it.
“If you need anything else, I will be in my office over there,” She said, waiting for you to ask any questions.
“Alright, thank you again,” You said as she walked away without another word. Opening up your laptop, you made a quick spreadsheet. Making a posting schedule was actually nothing to you as it was something you made monthly for yourself.
If you’re being honest, the company probably did need someone new running the social media accounts. Whatever they were doing was fine…. though it did reduce their audience to middle aged moms on facebook.
You’re about halfway through the schedule when a hand quickly closes your laptop shut. Your head shot up to take a look at who would have the audacity to just randomly do that.
Your eyes locked with lilac eyes…. the same one you were studying just that night. “I— Scara?” You said.
Scaramouche laughed, probably at the confusion on your face.
“Why the hell did you— What are you even—”
“Kunikuzushi,” The voice of Sho, your kind of boss, cuts through your words. “Don’t torment my interns,”
“I wouldn’t call it tormenting,” He replied with a grin. “We know each other,” Which wasn’t technically wrong. You did know each other, just from bickering online for thousands of peoples enjoyment.
“Still, I’d rather you not bother them while they work,” She huffed, and you realize your suspicions of the two being related must not be far from off.
“Oh, come on, Sho,” Scaramouche crossed his arms.
You feel awfully awkward witnessing the woman you’re interning over and your online friend of a few months conversing like this.
“Don’t you have a meeting with Yae Miko?” Sho asked, making her way towards your desk.
“When’s their lunch break?” He asked, pointing towards you.
“You didn’t answer my question,” She stated.
“And you didn’t answer mine,”
Sho groaned.
“Anyways, I’m stealing your intern for lunch,” Scaramouche grabbed your hand, pulling you up out of your seat.
“What about Miko?” She said with a light glare.
“I’m sure she can wait,” He rolled his eyes, giving a little wave towards Sho.
“So, are we not going to talk about whatever that was?” You said, your arms crossed as you sat in a restaurant a few blocks away from your internship.
“No?” Scaramouche said as he ordered some random appetizer off the menu.
“No? Nahh, you don’t get to do that,” You scoffed. “You’ve dragged me away from my work, so I’d like an explanation,”
“I was supposed to meet with my stepmom,” Scaramouche said.
“Right,” You said, as if whatever he said explained anything. “Mommy issues?”
“Fuck off,” He groaned.
“You’re the one who dragged me to lunch,” You laughed.
“I regret it, should’ve taken a different intern,” He said, placing an elbow on the table.
“And miss the chance to talk to your favorite twitch streamer yntaylorsversion?” You teased, taking a look at the menu and deciding on a meal.
“I don’t like streamers with bad taste in music,” He replied, cupping his own face in his hand.
“I'm going to get a headache by the end of this, aren't I?" You said, but can't help but smile anyway.
Weird meetings aside, Scaramouche was actually really nice to talk to....
authors note: if it isnt obvious sho is the shogun puppet. but like omg they met irl only after uhhh 16 and a half chapters ! if links arent working for u like they aint working for me. all my chapters r tagged under "cruel summer : chapters" !! love game is tagged similarly tbh
