"Dig that hole faster, will you?"
Our group had soon reached the stronghold. However, the exhilarating pain coming from both our physical and emotional aspects had eventually ruptured our hearts, leaving us senseless from the world. Despite these circumstances, we've come into an agreement that Pura's burial will be held 4 hours before our arrival.
The remains used… are the tattered fragment cut from her clothing that had luckily survived inside my very own pocket. It had stick unto me like a poisonous charm and cladded my body with infinite possibilities, unfolding our tale. Truth be told that the fabric itself was left untouched. Although dumped with the ghastly blood, the memories inside will always be a part of Pura herself.
Heaving out a sigh, Clinton pushes in the last straw of the remaining dirt of the gravestone, with the use of the trusty shovel lent by Paul. Despite its begrime look, the tombstone was decently assembled. We also added a make-shift figure of a dog, using the bits of sowed twigs and clays that brought the liveliness towards the sorrowful atmosphere engulfing the scene. I could still remember that time when Pura was deeply enchanted with dogs painted in golden fur, which furthermore elaborates on the adorableness and loyal characteristic of the man's best friend. Although… the dog we had made was tinted with chlorophyll and dissimilar from what we had in mind.
"You sure Pura would love this?" Clinton asks with a worrisome look
"She probably hates us right now" I snicker and brushed it aside. We then took a nice deep breath rewarding our accomplishment and stared mindlessly at the memorial.
Honestly, the humorous claims I had been blabbering about are my petty defense mechanism. Where…
The pain in my chest kept growling inside of me, hoping to be freed. The anger that had dwelled up has scorched my virtues, trapping me from the endless pilgrim of vengeance.
If…
If only I had been there sooner
If only I was prepared
If only I was skillful
I should have been the one who's torn apart
Slaughtered
Killed by the virus; by the zombies.
Why was I being kept alive? For what reasons should I strive to survive?
IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!
It was my sense of guilt that had to lead me from this thinking. And all I could believe was
The culprit that started it all. The mad scientist who created the god damn virus and plagued the entire world, leaving us innocent people to die on the outskirts of the rabid beasts.
What we lack now was information. The knowledge capable of observing the extent of these viruses could perceive and infect the likes of a healthy individual. Surely, we can account that the military and government officials had devised such a plan to minimise the casualties spread from the wild-fire of the undead. But not all are well-equipped from the crisis. And the context of hasty zombies, accompanied by vicious animals, pose a significant threat upon our survival. Nevertheless, our battle had yet to begin.
"Let's head out" My mood had already been sunken deep from the abyss, and so I asked Clinton to help tidy things up.
He responded with a slight nod and turns his back away, heading towards the scattered leaves piling up from the corner of our eyes. The cold midnight breeze tickles me in delight, but the sadness in my heart had never wished to be replaced.
I gave out my final gaze before parting away.
Soon after closing my eyes, a soft metallic clank resounded the field.
"The rattling sound came from one of my pockets?" Amused from what I've heard, I took the queer item out of my patch and began observing what seems to be a small white necklace that has a snowflake design attached in the middle.
"A pendant?"
Recalling the events which had happened from before, Pura had entrusted her necklace and wishfully hoped for me to deliver the torque to her mysterious mother; whom I have no freaking clue about.
Tweaking the unknown artifact, the lace itself seemed to hold various letters arranged at a clock-wise order, forming the phrase
S.P.E.C.T.R.E.
Unbeknownst to me, after murmuring the encrypted word written on the golden-white necklace, a bright light shone across the surrounding and beautifully forms a holographic scenery of a woman wearing her unified coat inside a glamorous laboratory.
"GAAH" Both I and Clinton gasp towards the bewildering setting. It took us 10 absolute seconds for us to calm our minds.
"W-Who's that?" Clinton asks while pointing at the girl, who seems to be immersed from the glasses and chemical compounds in various colours waiting to explode.
We were met with a tender smile from a woman well past her youth, seasoned with the signs of refined aging. While wrinkles marked her face, they did nothing to hide her dignified and graceful demeanour. Dressed in a simple lab gown matching her hair tied tightly in the back to come down in a braid, the scientist approached the sizzling bottles with sparkling eyes on her face.
"Claire, come here for a minute? A voice akin to a man calls out for the same person who seems to be Claire Wattson, Pura's mother
"Coming" She replied in a giddy tune. She removes her safety goggles, placing it on a nearby shelf, and skips her way towards the other side of the room.
The perspective followed suit, as the man in question appeared firmly, staring towards us with a stern look. The gaze wasn't meant for either of us, but rather, It was meant for Claire who deliberately exchanged his glance while crosses her arms as she lets out a sigh.
"Dr. Andrew, I'm trying to find a cure for the Ophio-virus. We don't know how strong these substances can be towards—"
"I understand, Claire. It's a shame that I have to do this to my colleague"
After their exchange, Dr. Andrew Turner abruptly punctures the shoulders of Claire with the use of a Taser. From the voltage of approximately 1,200 volts, it was enough to immobilise the unfortunate Claire, which eventually led to her vivid slumber.
"Dr…" With the last ounce of her strength, she had managed to click the 'send button' from the camera used for the recording. After her stealthily action, the video itself shifted its view and brought us towards a new location, this time it was the destruction of the infamous Laboratory.
Suddenly, a vicious monster overgrown by parasitic vines kept crawling endlessly at its feet. Its face was voided with the humane features, and the only identity it could ever offer was the same cloak worn previously by Claire but shredded to its utmost deformities.
"Dr. James!" Claire shouts from behind accompanied by Dr. Andrew at her side.
"sa…ve...me…" the unidentified figure growls. Claire and Andrew moved closer and glances on the being…much from their surprise, the guy instantly leaped towards Claire, as if it was a monstrous beast, pinning her on the ground and positions itself on top.
"Claire…" As it snarls once more.
The video finally ended with a roar that echoed through the night. But the audio heard during the records were exclusively felt only from the two people, Clinton and Fleur, who were still flabbergasted from the wild experience.
"What just happened?" Clinton asks the open space without blinking an eye.
"Beats me…" I responded, with my mouth still agape from the prompt images and videos that we had witnessed.
"So Pura's mother knew the cure for the the…Ophio-virus, was it? Is that what it's called?"
"I DON'T KNOW"
Annoyed, Clinton stomps off his feet and moves inches away from where he had standing, still with his never-ending astonishment from his face.
Checking the pendant once again, the words imprinted 'SPECTRE' was now fading gradually to the seams. After the fixed minute, the letters had finally embarked, leaving behind the plain old necklace that ought to be unique and normal in both ways. On the other hand, the snowflake's design started to twirl steadily, which eventually opened a secret port similar to a USB.
"Another secret beneath the secret?" Clinton remarks, as we closely study the unusual operation of the puzzling necklace.
---Venice Perspective----
Fleur had asked me if she could designate a place to bury the remains of her deceased friend. I believe her name was Pura. Of course, I had given their permission to do so as an act of…respect towards their friend.
I venture forth on the open field to catch some fresh air, but the light from the backyard had glimmer onto the obsidian sky.
"Strange…Is there an explosion?" I hurriedly dash myself towards the origin of the light. Fortunately, all I saw was Fleur and Clinton staring blankly at some sort of stone, with a miniature dog lying on the ground.
"A pendant? It's 1 A.M. for goodness sake! Hey-"
Oddly as it was, my whole vision has erupted, causing me to either hallucinate or who knows what
But all I saw was a woman dressed in a clean white gown, and afterward
An explosion, introducing the so-called Ophio-virus.