Year: 2128

  Area: central fronts of former Canada. Federation affiliation

  Location: Camp Roshwell

  Population: 8402 and going strong

  Days since no incidents: 0

  Days since creation: 3495

  Those damned thuds came again.

  Thud. Thud. Thud...

  Like dreading steps and echoes of monsters reaching behind a corner, they returned to apprehensive stillness. Then, they were gone, before restarting once more, cycling like blood and dreams better than ever. Rhythms were there, tracked by droplets of blood.

  Some noises were presumed to never quit, like those storms swirling from above, trying to death the living. They never finished what they started, but they kept going and closer voices lingered like throbs of heart, echoing endlessly. They kept going, banging, screaming. It was awful. There where darkness followed, a red dusty veil, pursued by tremor, helped nothing. Not until something moved out of the still space, where crimson light ruled and Emblem lived and voices spoke.

  Many voices.

  A fleeting hand came closer. Then the voice of a mother who was running away. Was it out of fear? Why would she run, when he should not?

  “Open the goddamn door, you stupid muppet!“ An angry voice of a teenager crashed the banging and that hand. Oh, that hand...

  William swore waking up was never comfortable, for that nightmare should've kept him awake. But he slept well since this was a significant day for him. He was the one running today. He winced, crawling underneath the cushion of his bed and thin sheets. Confused and still hearing the thuds reminded him of that fateful day. Frankly, he wished he was more confused than aware, or completely bewitched by stupidity.

  He dreamed again. That day from ten years ago never left. He imagined worse things coming and from time to time nothing was stopping that. Places. People. Faces. That hand and his leaving mother were the same, but she never did not leave. His heart thundered every cursed moment, making him sweat and moan. Dann was speaking and pleading, and that darkness and blood kept turning.

  And that crimson light!?

  Lazy arms moved to the ground, followed by a brown-haired boy's head. The rest of his body fell and his lazy moan made him lose no contempt. He was awake.

  “I hate the mornings. Every bloody one of them” William complained, even when the room was dark and curtains were thick enough to pause the sun. Buzzing lingered like bees and he scrapped his face like hair. It calmed down soon enough, but one part of the blows kept going. Without all of them, it was a better life.

  No time to waste. His body fell from the bed to the floor, where he stretched and slapped his face twice over the necessary amount.

  Getting to his feet was a challenge like changing clothes. He didn't have many, he knew. Opening the door, he looked at the impulsive visitor. Reaching the morning was terrible, so he looked at the youth with clear annoyance and expressed what was on his mind. “Can I give you a warning or a couple of slaps if you keep banging? Chose. Once or twice, remember.”

  “Neither. What took you so long?” a youth with a loud and firm tone, and bright eyes, said, sounding brave and friendly, but not visibly annoyed at William for making him wait.

  “Alright. Alright. You know how much I hate the mornings, so let's not pretend you have done some great merit. Nobody will believe you, Dann.”

  “Huh? Who are you talking to? Merit? Believe? You are going to be a bloody Walker, William, yet you talk in such a loose fashion? That's terrible. How many times had I said to be more vibrant? This era needs Walkers like that. Pillars! Heroes.”

  William rolled his eyes at Dann who cheered and hauled his arms upwards. He didn’t really like this about Dann, so he argued once more. “Who says that is good? Walkers are crazy bastards. Impressive too, but who would not say that about them? I am not. People are people and you don't speak as if there is some meaning to it. I am a people. You are too. Everyone is, but the position is different. Walkers have duties. People have duties. Everyone is people.”

  Dann gave him a long suspicious look.

  William didn't care. “Listen, what those soldiers and Walkers taught you isn't my problem. I have my head. You have yours, while you... well, you might not like my point. Walker shit hurts, man.”

  “Hurts? You speak of pain as if I don't know it. Do you want me to slap you like when we were young? Who am I, hm? I traveled with you to a lot of corners of this fucked up continent and a lot of steps almost cost me my bloody life! A priceless possession, dude! You don't joke around with that. I can! I know your pain.” Dann offered his piece of mine with a complicated, yet friendly tone.

  William could not be more bothered with him, though this banter was one way to express their friendship.

  They were young; not even adults bearing the truth of this new era that the Dawn created, though one of them already did, or both of them always did so to some extent. They fought and everyone knew how pointless ages could become. They were hindrances, but even children resisted this era. Apart from Walkers, of course. Those must be adults.

  The year was 2128. The Dawn was 114 years old and generations of humanity failed and reborn multiple times. It's called birth and death, but many setbacks degraded people, who did not fault the truth. They tried to survive, so they did so by all means necessary regardless of the advent of the new era that was like a poisonous curse. Literary, almost, as thick and corrupting Dark Fogs spread and touched everything living.

  Age and survival came together, latching onto the remaining people who kept going. Babies and youths were essential for the future. The current society had more hopes than dreams since it was all about humans called Walkers; the heroes of this era born with power in their bodies. They were much more crucial than anyone could think, and their growth and births were like shining gems in the dark storm.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “Give me a break, Dann,” William winced his hands when Dann grabbed his shoulders and tried to pursue him to change his mind. “It is not so easy to change or think right. Your head is just plain stupid, moron. Think about it sometimes and what is going on.”

  Dann chuckled and moved inside, walking past him into the dark room. “Sorry. Sorry. Sometimes, I don't know when to shut up and let my victory speech for later.” He noticed hues of crimson in the bedsheets, so he hummed and frowned, but didn't point that out straight away.

  William turned and walked back to his bed, where he sat, and wondered what Dann wanted. Oh, he knew it; he talked about it yesterday for hours.

  “What do you mean, easy?” Dann demanded as he leaned beside the closed window. “Do you know how many people would take an opportunity to get a chance to be a hero? Sure, not like you, but I count it fair. It is for the future. For people trying. More is always better, you say? Nah. Talents are brash and deviant! Like you!” He said resolutely, resembling a prudent and serious soldier with firm beliefs for a good cause.

  It wasn't a performance that suited him, William knew. Not only was Dann no soldier, but he wasn't the bravest. But he could talk pretty damn well and act fast, so he always considered him to be a great help. After ten-year-long friends of many downs, this was nothing.

  He would be a great nurse, or... a supporting soldier? Is a moral supporter a thing? Someone who shouts? Oh, there was some Walker like that, I think. Agg-something. William thought without giving him a reply, knowing that Dann had no Emblem, so he couldn't be a Walker.

  In return, he could take a different, or easygoing approach. Like becoming great at something more fit for a normal person who Dann was.

  Walkers were monsters in human skin anyway. That was William's firm belief that Dann no longer needed to attest. He knew it. What else but monsters could fight other monsters? He was that. Fated to fight for humanity and perhaps die for it.

  Seeing Dann, his friend, William couldn't ignore his flashy nature and firm voice. He often teased him because he was a few years older, yet often not that dependable when it comes to stuff not involving his mouth.

  Sparks flew between two youths when their gazes met. Dann never liked to lose an argument, whereas William often took a compromise for granted. He was the calmer one not because he preferred to.

  “So you have nothing to tell?” Dann said victoriously. “Loser. Should I slap you, yah?”

  “Fine. A lot of people would want to be Walkers and it is a good dream. What's wrong with that? It isn't as if it is possible. Walkers are born. Not made just because one wants to.”

  Dann laughed. “No. Walkers are heart. People come with determination and die the same, so they are Walkers. Simple. With capital W! We might be not them, but my heart is a Walker. I fight. Like one and two.”

  “Oh,” William got up, stretched and cracked a fist. “Wanna try it.” It was fairly cold and silent.

  Dann coughed. “Well, what is this? I think breakfast returned. Give me a moment.” His steps aimed at the door—right beside numerous drawings of monsters and bizarre beasts pinned on the wall—but William stopped him before he escaped.

  “I am the one who you call. Sure, but I still won't go there to get some life that I don't want. Walkers are numerous, but... it isn't pretty. Life isn't pretty. It could be normal though. Not miserable if one is lucky. So, am I lucky?”

  William's response was exactly what Dann expected. It was cautiously argumentative and offensive yet defensive. It was realistic, or straight-up naive. The world needed someone better than that, Dann believed. Well, many people did.

  He didn't like this about William, but who was he to stop him or change that about him? It wasn't working, so that was a problem but also his strength. William grew up close to misery and unbearable times. Dann was the same, as one who had followed him from behind and closely. Perhaps too closely, sometimes. Their ends will be different. It was about damn time.

  Dann wondered if the timing was satisfactory, though some answers were surprisingly easy. He charged at him, shouting vigorously until William kicked his feet, and pushed him to the bed within a few moves.

  Dann cried and stopped moving. “HA! You don't hold back at all. As expected of me. A tiger has to push another tiger with full strength before subduing it and eating it bit by bit. I am not tasty, by the way.”

  “Yeah.” William scratched his head. “I will beat you real good one day.”

  Dann laughed and shook the bedsheets vigorously. His front succeeded and he found what he wanted. A flat piece of gem-like object fell from the sheet, exposing deep crimson light to the dark room. The only light was coming from the open door that Dann forgot to close, so some drawings on the wall were visible. However, this crimson was much more obvious and brighter.

  “Oh, crap.” William moaned in pain and excruciating disappointment. It happened again.

  This unassuming gem-like object wouldn't be as noticeable in sunlight. After a deep night, William's Emblem was lost, glinting like a shining jewel. It was away from Darks, that camp, that dreadful cave, and... William. That should never happen.

  “Hah!” Dann shouted as if he fished a great catch, though he didn't dare to touch it; he knew he shouldn't since it could burn him.

  William glanced at his right arm, where an empty hole inside his flesh indicated a missing Emblem. It was an exceptional irregularity, though there were almost no souls aware of it. Looking like a deep wound revealing bones, flesh, and strange tiny flowing lines inside, it was missing something. It wasn't feeling like anything at first, so that was why he hadn't noticed it since he woke up.

  It wasn't a big deal anyway, even though it should be more worrisome them any one of them could tell.

  When looking at this hole, it disturbed William every single time. It escaped. Not a good sign.

  “You will lose it one day for real. What will happen then? Could I snatch it and become its master? Walker! Oh, my name would be different than a Red Demon!” Dann proclaimed but couldn't decide on a proper wishful name.

  “Fuck you, man. It just means a bad time is ahead. If it's truly gone, I would lose much more than...”

  “What?” Dann inquired after William paused.

  “Or it is not mine at all. It could go away, fleeing like everyone's life. I would become a normal person. Yeah. How about throwing it off like that time again? Have we tried something worse before?”

  “...”

  “No?” Dann nodded and laughed. “Never again, dude. Anyhow, our experimentation is over and we know it. You know it. Everyone shouldn't know it. Now,” He grimaced after hearing what he wanted and sat on the bed. “I will beat you up if you won't change this about yourself, or when you become a proper Walker. You are young and clueless. Almost gullible. Later that will have to change by your own hands.”

  “Again with this? You aren't a teacher, Dann.”

  “And you are not a normal person, or my student. Shame on that. I hoped one would be extra.”

  “That doesn't feel like my ears are for nothin'. It is good to assume you think it works.”

  Dann gave him a long look.

  “How many Darks have you killed, hm? How many people felt what they should not as we fled and killed?”

  “Like a bullet or knife, it doesn't concern me. How about yourself?” William countered with a half-assed answer. Both of them had a fair share of Outside, witnessed death, and murders all over the place. Camps were just one part of this enormous stretched land at the junctions of former Canada.

  Firearms and sharp weapons were capable of killing some Darks, but only up to a certain Rank. At one point, conventional weapons became pointless. Only Walkers were left with their bizarre weaponry and powers out of fantasy. Right. It was about magic.

  William grabbed his fallen Emblem, took it for a bad sign, and looked at it as if were a lost coin. It was still shining, calmly swirling in its internal glossy crimson glow and wave patterns. Then he glanced at his right arm; there was a few inches wide opening, and up close, it was bloody and... well, it was gnarly. It appeared terrifying and mutilated. It should be wrong! It had to have its fill, yet William knew and feared it even if it was in and out.