Ravagers and Reapers

Ophelia wanted nothing more than to have the heart of the most eligible bachelor, Dante Hales. He was tall, dirty blond hair, striking blue eyes, and a dazzling smile. In these earth shattering times, he’s one of the only men her age. Ever since the Outbreak, half of humanity is gone. The Outbreak was caused by a horrible biohazardous substance that was added into a soda pop, Shoppa’Pops, everyone thinks it was added on purpose by some lunatic.

Hiding underground is the safest place now. When food or water gets low, the Ravagers re-surface and scour the top side for more sustenance. Dante gets to lead one of the groups to the surface today. Ophelia needs to see him off, and wish him luck. Make sure her face is the last smiling face he’ll see.

Early on the morning of Dante’s departure, Ophelia wakes up, and uses some of the little amount of makeup that she has left. She wears her mothers old green dress, and leaves her bunker. She saunters down the spillway, her brown hair bouncing with each step, she wears a smile on her lips. As she rounds the corner, she crashes into Dante. She stumbles, and starts to fall backwards, but Dante reaches out, scooping his arm around her waist, catching her. He pulls her forward, and steadies her.

“Are you alright?” He asks, leaving his hands on her waist.

“I am now.” She smiles sweetly up at him. Her dark chocolate colored eyes holding his gaze, placing her hand on his chest. He stares back, smiling.

“Good, I wouldn't want something so lovely to be hurt. Why are you all dressed up today?” He asks, releasing his grip on her. She takes a small step backwards.

“Well. I thought I would dress up, and give you a reason to return in one piece.” She teases.

“Well, this is definitely a good reason. But come on, do you really believe the Reapers could ever take someone like me down?” He laughs, raising an arm up, resting it on the wall of the tunnel.

Reapers are those who got infected during the Outbreak, they are mutated humans who can’t control themselves. They revert to a primitive state where they attack anyone who moves into their sight. It starts with a craving, but that craving can’t ever be found, until you taste someone else's blood. Next is your eyes, they become red and irritated. Then you become insane, slowly, you start hearing screaming, you start looking for the screams, only to find that they are coming from inside someone else. So you tear them apart. Until you get the screaming to stop.

“Of course not. No one can fight off the Reapers like you can!” She laughs.

“Good, glad you agree, had me thinking you were doubting my skills.” he raises an eyebrow at Ophelia.

“I could never doubt you. You’ve always been a fighter.” She says and holds her pinky out to him. He reaches out, and wraps his pinky around hers, and they start walking slowly down the tunnel.

“I don’t know about that. I used to be pretty scrawny.” He laughs awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Your size had nothing to do with you fighting. You were always up for a challenge, or backing up your friends if they got into trouble. Whether it be the bar or at the school.” She says, taking a couple quick steps, so she can stand in front of him. Dante stops walking and stares at her.

“I was horrible at fighting when we were in school. I always got hurt, or got in the way.” He says, sighing.

“Not true. You saved me.” she says, her smile fading, “You found me, getting enclosed on by the Reapers...I wish i was a fighter. Then maybe...I could have saved them…” tears start welling up in her eyes.

“Hey! They were already gone when you got home, there was nothing either of us could have done.” He says reaching out and grabbing Ophelia’s face in both hands.

“I know...but still...I miss them.” She says looking up at Dante, her smile tense. Forced.

“I miss my family too. Come on. Different topic. OH! Did you hear that Charlie almost got attacked by rats?”

“Not again!” She laughs, they continue walking.

Dante is putting on the last of his protective gear, and slings his backpack over his shoulder. The entrance to the surface is a ladder leading up to a manhole that opens up to a street on the outskirts of our old town.

“We’ll be back in four days.” He says and hugs Ophelia.

“Be safe. All of you.” She says and hugs him back, tightly.

“Come on!” One of the other Ravagers calls from up ladder, and opens the hatch to the surface. And out they go.

Ophelia makes her way down the tunnels, greeting old friends, talking to some of the other sewer dwellers. One of the residents stands off to the side, and holds out a can of grape soda.

“Would you like one? My son is out with the Ravagers, and I have no one to sit with. Would you mind?” an older woman says, her voice sad and hoarse. A brown hood covers her face.

“I would love to.” Ophelia says and gently takes the drink from her, and sits down on an old yellow milk crate.

“Thank you so much. It is nice having a comforting talk with someone as lovely as you.” The old woman grins.

“Why thank you. And I couldn't agree more.” Ophelia says and takes a big gulp of the grape pop.

The old woman starts coughing, and she covers her face with ehr sleeve.

“I am so sorry, it appears it’s time for me to rest. Please come back and visit with me tomorrow. If you have time.”

“Oh I am so sorry, can I get you anything? Some water, I have some lozenges in my bunker!” Ophelia raises to her feet, and leans over the old woman.

“No no, I just need some rest. Being old does this to you.” The woman says, and shakily gets to her feet. She starts waddling down a tunnel, and she takes one last glance behind her.

“Take care now. Be mindful of the noises in the night.”

How odd, Ophelia wonders. She finishes her drink, and leaves the can on her milk crate.

Once Ophelia goes to bed, her stomach starts to grumble. She thinks nothing of it. Throughout the night she feels horrible, and tosses and turns in her bed. The next morning she wakes, licking her lips, so thirsty. She wanders around her bunker, then out into the tunnels, trying to find something to drink. She finds some half drunk bottles of water, picking them up she unscrews the lids and drinks every last drop. For the rest of the day she walks around in a daze, too thirsty to think. So she goes to bed. For the next two days, her stomach growls hungrily, she tries to eat some soup, but throws it back up. Maybe she's sick? She goes back to bed, after throwing up for a third time. Her dreams are tormenting her, she hears their screams. So loud but so distant. Calling out to her.

On the fourth day, there is a knock on her wall. She opens her eyes and sees Dante peeking his head through the curtain separating her bunker from the tunnel.

“Hey I'm back! We got back a few hours earlier than expected! We found so much food! I even found a chocolate bar! I wanted to share it with you.” He says and walks in, and sits on her bed.

“Thank you!” She sits up, and sees cuts and scrapes on his face, “You got hurt!”

“A bit. I tripped and fell when we were running. I’m fine, I promise.” He reassures her.

Ophelia reaches out and takes his face in her hands. She feels confident. Hungry, for something. She brings her face to his, and kisses him. The fresh cut on his lip is still bleeding. The blood tastes so sweet, like a metallic maple syrup. He presses his lips to hers, and pulls at the buttons on her dress. She pulls him to the bed, and spins on top. She opens her eyes and sees a pair of hair scissors on her night stand. She reaches out. She grabs the scissors, Dante hasn’t noticed her movement. She pulls the scissors behind her back. She sits up, and stares at the beautiful man below her. She grins. Dante is smiling, but that smile fades when he looks into her eyes.

“Hey, what's wrong with your eyes? They’re all red? Do you have an eye infection?”

“Something like that…” Ophelia covers his mouth with her hand, and pulls the scissors out from behind her back. She brings her hand up, and slides the blade across his throat. His screaming is muffled by her hand, and soon his screams become gurgles. She releases her grip, and lets him spurt his incoherent words. Tears stream down Dante's face. She raises the scissors up again. She brings her hand down, and the scissors hit a hard metal object buried under his shirt. She raises her hand again, and strikes down. Again. And again. Until his screaming stops, and his body lies motionless. Looking down at him, she sees a shiny object poking out from the hole she made. She reaches into his chest, blood pouring out, covering the floor. Swirling and digging around, she slowly pulls out a long silver chain. Well. it used to be silver, it’s hard to tell from the blood that is now covering it. She lifts the chain above her head, and dangles the pendant above her face. Slow drops of blood drip onto her face. She grins,

“Finally. I have your heart.” She lowers the necklace into her palm, and stares at the heart shaped locket.