Chapter 12

  William ran past a myriad of Darks, who either ate or battled people or moved for whatever purpose they might have. He tried to focus and ignore them, but it seemed like they ignored him instead. He wasn't sure what was happening. He looked at the world in a new light, so what if the others looked at him the same?

  There were screams. Human screams. William's ears weren't dull or bleeding, unlike his gaze which wasn't meaningless. He heard everything, no longer snuggled in his own world. People were dying in every corner. Gunshots were echoing, dimming those crazy sounds Darks adored.

  Dark Fog was much thicker and lingering in open space. It obscured vision but almost all streets were clear of it because Darks wanted their feasts. In any way, William couldn't see through everything; he couldn't notice huge tower-like Darks around the camp and inside the Fog, or what was... further, or more above. There were flying things, or stomping things. Dark Fog generators were less obvious when many battles kept happening at the same time.

  Darks were grotesque, while some weren't. Their origins were closer to primary and secondary flavors than being some gifted duty. When something Turned, it might remain in its basic shape or turn better. In rarer cases, it would go beyond their better shape, and animals were no different, so some Darks could look fairly impressive.

  Corruption could seize the bloodline and history of any species. Afterward, evolution could change the rest, while Darks seized the rest or others, either by Walkers, or humans in a bid for a change.

  Bodies were mere flesh. Spirits were nothing before the power of Corruptors, large Darks walking or flying with dozens or hundreds of sticks for arms and legs. They were like fortresses inside the thickest Fogs, spreading everything wrong far, and inflicting tormenting changes for anything natural. It also boosted Darks and pushed Incursion forward.

  There was also a component of probability. Not everything can be corrupted. Some beings died straight away and wouldn't become anything but a mash of gore and corrupted soil. But some beings would swallow, accept, or be lost in this change, turn with the Corruption, or for the Corruption, becoming grotesque, crazy, and monstrous. Consumed.

  Size, weird perks, and various body or energy factors could happen, turning their heads and bodies alien, instincts sharp or dull, or everything about them would be no further than a lump of walking flesh.

  Walkers and their hunts could turn it worse or better depending on the successful side. Walkers were their primal enemies after they appeared many decades ago, in a time known as Tomorrow Dawn, a day when humanity saw the light at the end of the misery thanks to the first generation of Walkers.

  Unbeknown to many, it was also a time of tension that caused numerous changes and evolutions in Darks. They became altered, for they had finally arrived. The filial targets. The great hunts.

  William knew no such thing when he focused on running. So what if Darks were there, screaming like lumps of bodies, letting their howls echo and munching sounds linger? Most streets were nothing but destructed chaos, leaving Crawlers restless and those Zombis were kind of broken as they stood in large numbers around or bumped their heads against walls. Shriekers gnawed at some bodies and remained shrieking.

  Many people fought, wielding weapons ranging from scraps of metal to guns and knives. Loud bangs went further, ringing from the depth of the Dark Fog. William's run wasn't aiming that far. Some monsters died under a barrage of bullets thanks to their low defenses.

  Humans could fight. They always could, but that word wasn't always right. They wanted to believe they were fighting a war. Not the survival. Darks were far too large in numbers, and many were immune to some propelled metals. The Incursion was a death sentence, and many people recognized it.

  From the start, a fleeing order suggested to save as many lives as possible, which was much better. They could rebuilt, while the loss of lives was not as simple. The bunkers were either full or not enough for this Incursion, but what was reasonable when the whole camp was encircled in Fog? A lot of things were easier said than done.

  Running away and staying alive was difficult Outside. Only an equal predator should survive before such a gathering of predators.

  William huffed many breaths, feeling as if his legs stepped on all kinds of things, yet they still moved. He still had them, which was good.

  He felt strange. His speed, eyes, warmth, and growing strength felt as if he was floating and flying like a blazing tempest. Like back then; in that white room but weirder. The buzzing noise was mostly gone, similar to that noise and bizarre voice. The surroundings weren't empty like his head. He tried to stay ahead and dull.

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  It felt as if he wasn't moving, despite his surroundings changing. Not in colors... unfortunately.

  Some things made him alive and less helpless. He ran like his mother suggested. It felt as if he could run and jump and do whatever she asked him to do, so he would make her happy. He ran across a street that used to be a market, a place where he used to walk with her to get food and vegetables.

  Talking to strangers was a rare activity, so he turned ashen when he saw those people gone and the street shrouded and destroyed in striking redness.

  He passed this dreadful screaming scene without tears and darted for a way out. He was running away from his nightmare, floods of Dark Fog and Darks all around. He should be dead. He shouldn't be running for nothing and find a goal.

  Nothing and nobody came. William simply ran and wasn't entirely sure what was happening to him, or where his mother was, His tunnel vision was heavy and his mind was distracted.

  Exhausted and obvious, the dark world was behind him, similar to that whipping line that was leaving behind a path of slaughter. For his sake, it wasn't simple, but this line had a deep set of ideas.

  William was mistaken. He was running nowhere and there was no way out. It was a terrible idea to move his head for empty hope. He walked to the den of monsters, yet was it luck how those monsters overlooked him, or winced in their steps and fears, or they didn't and regretted it soon afterward? All thanks to that swirling line, he lived.

  William recognized no streets anymore. Where to look? He didn't know. How? He didn't ask a soul.

  He either looked at the ground or his feet or the place that used to be his home. There were constant pools of redness, coming from blood, heads, headless corpses, and people's faces. They were foreign to him; nothing more than paintings and nightmares.

  Some people were losing their redness and shine. William hated this vision, yet when he tried to close his eyes, it became much worse and overwhelming. His mind was the sole taker of reality, while his eyes kept it at bay. What of his line? He didn't know.

  The surroundings were no chains. It was the noise that rang and beat to his ears that was. Thuds, growls, and screams drove his ears mad. Darks chased people, dragging them to the Dark Fog where they began to sizzle, scream, Turn, or die.

  It was a nasty process, looking like boiling flesh and bones, snapping ice, or maturing restless powers outside of humanity. The nastier process came from Darks that could Corrupt from touch, bite, or some power. Those were rare to see and impossible to fight for common humans.

  Some Darks were small, looking like rats and small dogs. Most were bigger and higher in Ranks because of this

  Incursion, making weak Darks less important, but not obsolete. There was a good point in fodder when fighting, and like any great Incursion, this was one nasty fight.

  There was some kind of horse, but it was a wicked mixture between a monster and a regular horse, walking on two, pushing its studs for arms around, growling through a big head, wide jaw, and crazy bulging eyes. Why did it speak and scream, he didn't know.

  William didn't look deeper than his steps allowed; he wanted to continue with his escaping plan, yet... when he thought of it, where was he running? To his mother? Father? He forgot.

  His mind was reaching its limits, hitting a spiritual wall where his strength hit a beat and one noise returned when he felt weak. It was like a needle piercing his mind.

  [Dark Fog... cries]

  [Escape...]

  [Quickly!]

  He shook, clutching his head and tumbling in confusion. Redness kept going, and he fell into mud that wasn't some mud. A bunch of Darks hissed, looking like crazy wolves with flaring tentacles for fur. There were even hunched human creatures with thick arms, slender bodies, and open heads, revealing thick tendrils that went behind them right from the neck.

  William yelped, but as soon as he came to his feet, one of the Drillwolvers pounced at him, swirling its thousands of tendrils with a split-mouth attack.

  William instinctively moved his arm to hug his head, and at that moment, the creatures were split in half, gushing out blood and sizzling at their intersections.

  He thought that this voice was crazy, or he was. He didn't see a thing, but the wet warmth and strength rushed once more. Some force stunned him and he shot aside, tumbling in mud this time around. Human figures attacked him next.

  Run. Run. Mother said it, He thought when the dragging stopped. He got to his feet, but couldn’t run. He was sorry to reach his limit. His mother will be very disappointed.

  Death arrived.

  In the intersection of large streets, William stopped and stood like a sprout in the middle of a flat plateau. Dark Fog was cleared up here, allowing him to come here. Multiple Walkers fought with Darks of higher Ranks than Carnijaw.

  They were battle-oriented, looking like energy-infused figures, Elementals, oddly shaped human giants, or Darks with much simplified and perfected features that wished to retain or look for perfection. Some even wielded weapons that were part of their body, or not at all. They weren't primal, but some were. They looked destructive and strong, and there was something odd in their vision that William couldn't catch.

  It changed.

  The redness was no more. The colorful sizzle in his eyesight altered and his eyes and mind started to hurt just by looking at something he shouldn't witness. He bled from his eyes even more and felt as if mountains pressing onto his head. He stopped moving when the battle before and behind him turned upside down.