No Man's Land. A place far enough from Stronghold that the walls only barely peeked up over the horizon. A place that Crowley had come from — very little signs of humanity amongst the hordes of Infected. It was almost a place of comfort for the Level V Infected... If only because it captured memories of when he had first awoken alongside his best friend.
Although the intention was to one day try and make his way inside the last standing city of humanity, a part of Crowley still worried for what would happen once inside. Would his inner beast terrorize the streets, slaughtering those in his wake like he did when he was nothing but a mindless, killing machine? He shutters to think of such a thing. That fear is what keeps him on the outside, and for the time being, he's content to simply wander around, looking for supplies and...
He still needs to feed.
Much as he loathes that part of him, it isn't always easy to contain the monster inside. It's how he currently found himself in such a predicament, mind warped and twisted with a bloodlust that only an Infected could know. Fangs remain hidden and his eyes are a normal sky blue, but that's all there is the hide his true self. He doesn't walk like a typical human, but rather stalks the darkness like an apex predator, hunting for its next target. Upon the highway sits a cluster of vehicles, rotted away to rusted frames that hint at a traffic jam from years past. It's the perfect place for the man to set up an ambush, the vehicles just screaming out the possibility of containing supplies. Something to draw drifters close.
Crowley's eyes catch movement as he stills his movements, watching for a few seconds before he finally catches sight of a man, moving between vehicles. A lone drifter, perhaps?
The Infected watches the man for a few more seconds before he finally moves out from behind a vehicle that was previously hiding his presence, his gait smoothing itself out to a feline grace as he approaches the man, his face expressionless and hiding his true self well. It's not until he's within a few paces of the man that he finally stops, silent all through his approach. Kill, his mind screams at him, his throat raw and hungry for the taste of human blood. But he contains himself.
"Friend? Or foe? he finally speaks, asking the man a question as a smooth grin stretches across his lips.
Posted 10-04-2021, 05:38 PM
This post was last modified: 02-20-2022, 10:56 PM by Crowley Wilde
Hunter Becomes the Hunted
