Red Death

I had fallen asleep where I had collapsed on the floor after I had run out of tears to shed and after my adrenaline stopped coursing through me. My internal clock told me that I had slept for a little under 24 hours – it was the beginning of a new day. My muscles were stiff, throat was sore. My eyes were tired and burned like hellfire and my head ached painfully.
I let go of my knees and stretched out my legs and held my arms above my head, letting out a large yawn, sharp fangs gleaming in the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights. Every inch of me popped and/or cracked and my muscles prickled painfully from having been stuck in the same position for all of those hours. The heated scent of Creeper flesh reached my nostrils; I gagged reflexively. This forced me to fully awake.
Grunting and even griping under my breath a little, I pulled myself to my feet, using the marble table as a crutch. For a moment I let the table hold my weight, most of my body was still tingling and numb. Then, when I thought my legs would be able to support me again, I pushed myself away from the table and stood up tall. I lifted my head, gazing at my reflection in the steel door, wondering how I was going to fit into a world soon to be ravaged by Zombies. How I was going to be accepted into society…well, what’s left of society that is.
I know what you’re all thinking – how could I be worrying about my looks at a time like this? Now, before you guys start trying to throw me under the bus ← I think that’s how the saying goes…I need you to hear me out.
Like I said earlier I was about 17 years of age at this time. Therefore I had the average build (140 pounds and athletic, like a runner’s or swimmer’s), height (a little over five foot – I think it’s like five foot two), all of the proper body parts of a teenage human girl (with two fully developed breast, a belly button, buttock, and the private region between my legs – need I say more?), and I’ve got the typical shape of a human (I stand with two feet planted firmly upon the ground). In a sense, I was considered a ‘Plain Jane’ in those aspects. That’s where my similarities end with humans and metalheads.
I also have the ears (which I can move separately or together), eyes, tail, claws, teeth, and fur of a Bobcat. Thus, you see my dilemma. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not horrifying or even grotesque to look at. My creators did an amazing job at blending the species of human and Bobcat together.
The fur that covers my body, from my ears to my feet, is misty grayish/brown, with black streaks running along my ribs and thick, dark bars running down my arms and stubby tail, which ends with a black tip. The fur around my lips, chin, chest, and belly is an off white, like a tannish cream. My ears stand erect, poking up through the very human-like curly light brown, almost honey colored, hair (which I kept cut at a manageable shoulder length) on my head and they too end in black tuffs of fur like my tail.
Because of the extended ruffs of fur on my cheeks, my face looks a little wide. But, I can guarantee you that I have the typical face of a human girl hidden beneath the fur; although I do have somewhat of a muzzle, but it looks good on me. All of my fur is dense, soft, long, and slightly brittle to the touch. It’s actually very pleasing to stroke, almost like running your fingers through silk or water.
I also have typical human-like hands and feet (fur covered of course) with 10 fingers and 10 toes. I just happen to have retractable claws instead of finger and toe nails. My lips and nose are a graceful blend between human and Bobcat.
All in all, I considered myself rather pretty for being what I am. However, I knew that I would not be willing accepted by the humans and metalheads. Many would look at me like I was a monster or freak of nature. Many more will be fearful of me and some will try to do away with me. Therefore, until I could be sure that I could trust anybody, I would let my wardrobe cast the illusion that I was a normal teenage human.
That being said, I stepped over the reeking body of the now bloated Creeper and headed towards one of my hidden closets. Curling my toes, I nudged the knuckles of my right foot against the base of the wall where it met with the floor. There was a low beep and hiss of escaping air as the sealed compartment was revealed to me. The walk in closet was huge and it housed an impressive collection of clothes.
On the one side of the closet were my typical everyday street clothes like size 16 jeans, baggy hoodies, and oversized t-shirts as well as my sneakers and boots – for those of you wondering, no, I do not wear bras or panties; they only get in the way. These street clothes were pretty average with only small modifications in the pants to allow free movement of my tail. My ears I could keep pressed rather comfortably against my skull and therefore could easily hide them under a hood or ball cap.
On the other side of the closet was my leather hunting armor. Many of these were form fitting and covered in zippers, buckles, straps, and pockets to insure that I would always be armed to the teeth (which they themselves were weapons). Good thing about the armor is that it could be easily hidden beneath my street clothes.
I reached into my closet and grabbed my favorite hunting outfit. The top was a black leather corset that laced in the front. The pants were a tight fitting cargo-type style made out of leather (leather is preferred; it can, in most cases, stop Zombie teeth from sinking into my skin). These pants were more modern and therefor they had a zipper and button. Then, I grabbed up a pair of knee high leather boots that needed to be buckled up.
I made my way around the room, aimlessly grabbing weapons and ammo and stuffing my pockets to the brim. Once the weight of my armor started to grow unbearable, I opened another hidden door; this time the closet was filled with nothing but bags. I snagged up two duffle bags.
One I filled to the brim with any and all guns, arrows, bolts, ammo, grenades, knives, swords, bows, and crossbows that I managed to squeeze into it. The other empty one I brought back over to my closet filled with clothes. I threw in a mixture of spare shoes, armor, and regular clothes. Once filled to nearly bursting I zipped it up hurriedly and then tossed it over to the sealed weapon duffle bag.
I skimmed through what remained stowed away in my closet and settled on a loose fitting pink t-shirt, bleached low rider blue jeans with the flared bell bottoms, and a baggy purple pull over hoodie. I turned and faced the steel door once more, smoothing my curly hair and trying my best to de-wrinkle my outfit.
I know it seems silly to be flustered about my looks but this was going to be the first time I set foot into the real world and good God was I nervous. I, believe it or not, wanted to try and make a good first impression on which ever poor human or metalhead I stumbled upon (I did make a good impression…didn’t I, Eugene?).
In a sense, I felt like a bone having been tossed to the wolves. I lifted up a hand and slapped myself, hard, in the face. This woke me up from my stupor and I walked towards the door, staring at my reflection straight in the eye.
“Listen, Kitty,” I snarled, weirdly accented voice (I picked up on almost everyone’s accent growing up) ringing through the silent armory, “You’ve got a job to do! Forget about the world beyond these steel and concert walls. You need to clean up the mess here first. Baby steps, Kitty, baby steps. Once you’ve finished up here, then you can tackle the outside world.”
It wasn’t often that I gave myself a pep talk. I normally had a good head on my shoulders. But, hearing my voice did me good. It drowned out the undead moans of the Creepers, the earsplitting shrieks of the Runners, the gut wrenching howls of the Crawlers, the terrifying yelps of the Stalkers, and the musical wailing of the Swimmers. Most of all, it drowned out the dwindling screams of everyone I’d ever know.
I patted myself on the cheek and then ran my retractable claws through my hair, trying my best to comb it out. I took in a deep breath, blinked once, and then rereleased it slowly. With that breath I blew out any and all negative thoughts and wild emotions. Turning my clothed back to the door, I reached for my bags. I easily placed them over my head and shoulders, forming an ‘X’ across my chest.
“Baby steps, Kitty. It’s only baby steps.”