Story by Bontee, Ch.1 so far 7/21/2013

He awakened to nothing but light. Blinding light, encompassing the world around him. For as long as he could recall, darkness is all he knew, making this new white world a welcome sight. As his eyes started to focus, he began to realize he was lying down, entombed in some kind of small container. Bright lights were attached on every side and it was cold. He numbly raised his arms and tried to force his way out by pushing up on the roof above him. It budged a little. He raised his legs and pushed up as hard as he could. The top flew open and all the lights went out. He was once again cloaked in darkness. He could only see light beaming in through a window across the room. Before his eyes could focus, his numbness began to fade. It started as a faint thumping, then escalated to a deep throbbing pain that ran through his entire body. He grabbed his head and began uncontrollably digging his fingernails into his forehead until blood ran down his face. He tried to scream out in pain, but it only came out a muffled cry. The throbbing pain intensified. He started running towards the window, unable to see anything else around him. He slipped on something sticky, but managed to keep his footing and continued forward, leaving the dismembered corpse he stepped over lying in the pool of dried blood he almost slipped on. He couldn't see any of the bodies, couldn't smell the rotting flesh and couldn't imagine the horrendous events that had previously occurred in the room around him. He didn't care. The pain was so extreme time seemed to slow. The throbbing got louder and more painful the closer he got to the window. By the time he finally reached it, he thought his head was going to explode. Without thinking, he leapt through the glass. It sliced long, deep gashes through his forearms, leaving a stream of blood behind him as he fell. Unfortunately for him, he was only two stories up, his fall much shorter than he had hoped. As the ground approached, he gazed out at the surrounding area. A vast, shimmering desert made up the landscape, with a large object, possibly a wall in the distance. He landed with a loud snap, his pain suddenly gone. His vision became encircled with darkness that slowly began to close in, returning him to the world of death he was all to familiar with. As he began to lose consciousness, he saw a tiny black figure climb over a distant sand dune, walking in his direction. He reached out towards the figure, his arm leaving a smear of blood behind it. He stared at the figure through the cracks between his fingers as everything went black...

His eyes shot open, revealing the blinding sun, beaming down on him from above. He rolled over and was greeted by a large, sticky puddle of dried blood. He peeled most of it off and rose to his feet. He carefully tiptoed around small shards of glass and made his way to the base of the building he had plunged from. There were two floors, and it was a  small building overall. As he approached, he noticed that all the windows on the first floor were boarded up and just beyond the boards the glass was covered with some red substance that completely obstructed is view of the interior. He didn't make the connection. The exterior was in rough shape, the walls were a rusted metal, corroding away in places. There was some remnant of an aged sign of some sort, but it was illegible.  He looked up at the window he had fallen from.
“Not too far a fall, but I still should have died from my... injuries.” As the last word escaped his mouth, he realized he did not feel any pain from earlier. He rolled up his tattered sleeves. Nothing. No deep gashes, no cuts or scrapes, not even any bruises. His eyes widened. “I know I got cut...” he mumbled to himself. He turned back to where he had landed and studied the dried blood. There was a lot of it, and it appeared to have dried long ago. There were tiny footprints that seemed to wander around him closely, then lead away towards the wall like structure in the distance. The footprints did not look human at all, they resembled paws more then feet.
“I should follow them... if someone or something helped me, maybe they can explain where I am. What else can I do?” he muttered to himself, groggily. With that, he was off towards the wall in the distance, the footprints guiding him across the desert dunes. He felt strangely energetic and rarely stopped to rest. It was hard for him to imagine the events at that building ever happened. He felt great!
Eventually another building came into view. It seemed to be a large mansion, well maintained and clean, despite the sun and sand of the desert. The exterior was a shining chrome, with small windows randomly scattered across the walls. The man continued, avoiding this mansion. It gave him an eerie feeling, as if he was being watched by someone as he passed.
He began thinking as he walked. What would he do when he reached the wall? He didn't even  remember his name. He thought hard, trying to remember his past. One name kept running through his head. James. Was it his name? He didn't know.
His thinking was interrupted by a startling realization. He had walked on without noticing he had left the trail left by the footprints. He spun around. There was no trace of them anywhere. He could see the entire wall by now and thought he could make his way over to it on his own, so he continued onward.
The wall was much larger than he had originally thought. He could see some taller objects peeking over it. Possibly roofs or towers, maybe chimneys. It was still difficult to tell. His best guess was that it was a city, protected by the large wall. It was a damn good guess.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the air. He paused for a moment, then chose to ignore it and moved on. As he neared the wall, he spotted an object sitting in the sand. He was going to pass it by without a second thought, but then it moved. It was only slightly, but he was sure he saw it. His curiosity got the better of him, and he changed his course. As he got closer, he reached a shocking realization. It was no ordinary object, it was a chubby woman, lying on her back with a large hole through her chest, gushing out blood. His walk turned to a jog, then a sprint. As he neared her, her head turned to him. She pointed down to a small purse beside her foot.
“Oh... open... it.” she said softly, before he could speak. Wide eyed and shocked, he quickly obeyed. He unzipped the zipper and pulled out a syringe, filled with a gritty looking yellow substance. “I-inject me...” she urged quietly. She smiled sweetly at him.
“What happened? Who did this?” He asked, tears beginning to form.
“Just do it!” she suddenly screamed. He panicked and injected her leg with the strange substance. “Ah...” she squealed. For a moment, her expression twisted, as if she was in a lot of pain, then it subsided into a satisfied grin. “Thank you...”
To his amazement, her wound began quickly healing itself. Within a matter of seconds, the fatal damage was completely gone. She rose to her feet.
“Thank you so much, stranger!” she sounded energetic and happy. He tried to speak, but was in awe at the supernatural healing he had just witnessed. “Well, aren't you a kind, helpful, chivalrous...” he tuned out her barrage of complements. Something suddenly felt wrong. He turned away from her and looked out at the wall.  “life-saving, generous,” she continued. He was too busy focusing on the wall to notice her turn around and pick something up. He saw a quick flash of light from the wall. Light was reflecting off of something.
“Huh? Did you see-” he began.  A loud click cut him off.
“...stupid, dead idiot!” she finished. He spun around just as she raised a lever action shotgun to his head. “Why the hell did you help me, anyways? What were you planning on doing that needed me alive?” a twisted smile grew across her face. “Don't like 'em dead? Is that it? Wow, you're sick.”
“What...” he tried to respond. He was too shocked to verbalize the thought.
“How about this?” she said playfully, “Since you did help me, I'll be merciful. I'll blow yer' legs off and let you bleed instead of skinnin' you.” Her grin got larger. She lowered her aim to his legs.
“Wait!” he screamed.
“Nope.” she quickly replied. He closed his eyes. She chuckled. “I'll count to three, then BANG! Ready? One, two, th-”
A loud bang echoed through the air.
He opened his eyes. He was numb from adrenaline and couldn't tell where he had been hit. There was blood all over his chest and face. He could see the shotgun wielding maniac was still standing, but was no longer smiling. Her expression was blank. She dropped her shotgun. It hit the sand with a gentile thud. She reached up and pressed both hands to her throat. Blood squirted through her fingers onto the sand. She fell to her knees. He stood, motionless. She gasped for air, made a few gargling noises and collapsed in a heap at his feet.