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Vincent Morra

"It's amazing how we can't see what we really have until it's all stripped away from us."

0 · 1,170 views · located in USA

a character in “Contagion: After The Ending”, as played by legacy14

Description

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❝What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value.❞
-- Thomas Paine





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Nickname
Vic or Vince

Age
25

Birthday
September 26

Ethnicity
Irish - Greek - Portuguese

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Species
Human - Genetically Sucker-punched

Role
Survivor - Jack-of-all-trades

Face Claim
Stephen Amell




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❝Great leaders are almost always great simplifiers, who can cut through argument, debate and doubt, to offer a solution everybody can understand.❞
-- Colin Powell





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As with alot of the Sane humans that survived the virus, Vincent's genetic code has been rewritten and scrambled in a Deoxyribonucleic blender of 'what the hell?' in typical human standards. His genetic code seems to have been most affected directly with his Central Nervous System, or more specifically: his individual motor skills, coordination, and his sense of feeling.

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At a perfect calm and with a completely clear mind, Vince can hit any target at any time without fail, no matter the circumstances. Be that as it may, the world is far from perfect and Vince has never been at a perfect calm or had the absence of a million things running through his mind, even before the virus. Therefore, he is far from perfect, but is getting better at every step. The more focused and relaxed he is, the stronger this ability gets, whether he is bouncing a quarter, throwing a card, or swinging a club, his timing and aim are incredibly heightened.

Going hand-and-hand, Vince's reaction times, motor skills and general coordination/balance are much higher than they used to be. No doubt a side effect of his gift given to him by the virus. Lighter on his feet and a general knowledge of physics along with what his body can do, the link between his mind and the reaction from his body might not qualify him for any comic books in the near future, but difficult feats generally look astronomically easier when Vince performs them.


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An oddity considering what he has been graced with in the athletic sense, since throwing off the virus, Vince has not been able to feel any physical contact between himself and the outside world. A hand upon his face, a rock in his side, and even a bullet to the shoulder would have the same effect, his mind acknowledging the happening, but unable to process the physical nature due to the effect the virus has done to his nervous system. His mind will still register any processes, leading to him feeling weaker/stronger in a false sense created by his own mind, but not registering anything on a physical scale. Simply put, if he has lost a large amount of blood, he will know his body is getting weaker and can feel worn out or tired in an emotion-like sense, but wouldn't know exactly what the problem was unless he saw it; ie: gunshot wound, knife puncture, burn, etc...




Likes
β—† Jokes β—† Riddles β—† Exploration β—† The Outdoors β—† Humming β—† Honesty β—†

Dislikes
β—† Smoking β—† Prisons/Cages β—† Crazies β—† Lack of Wit/Humor β—† Idiopathic Neuropathy β—† Waiting Around β—†

Strengths/Talents
β—† Disciplined β—† Honest β—† Uplifting/Humorous β—† β—† Lack of Feeling β—† Improvisation β—† Military Background β—†

Weaknesses
β—† Prone to Stress β—† Sarcastic β—† Headstrong β—† Lack of Feeling β—† Brutally Honest β—†





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β–Ί Stubborn / Task-Oriented β—„

Vincent is the guy you would approach at a bar when you need another for darts or pool, he's the one you'd ask to be your ping pong partner, the guy you want beside you in a fight, the person you call or text after a bad break-up, someone you'd ask for advice even if you know he has no knowledge of the situation, and he's one of the few people you know you can trust to keep a secret you desperately need to get off your chest. Most of all, Vincent is whatever he needs to be at any given time.

Being very approachable with his easy smile and calm demeanor, Vincent has always been an easy-going individual with friends and new people that enter his life. Honesty has always been a prime trait with Vincent, living by the mantra: "A man is only as good as his word." Simply put, Vincent is always true to his word and as punctual as possible, also putting extreme emphasis on the concept of being Brutally Honest even to a fault. Those who don't want an honest opinion and only want to be pampered and need fuel to inflate their ego will find that keeping Vincent around isn't going to provide the necessary support to keep them afloat and he may actually bring them down a bit with his sarcastic attitude.

The best word to describe him would be neurotic. Everything catches his interest and he throws his heart and soul into everything he does, letting it completely encompass his life until the next thing that piques his interest comes along. Couple this with his ability to focus completely on a single subject and toss everything else out the window, Vincent picks up most things much quicker than your average person making him a sort of Jack-of-all-trades when all is said and done.

Holding onto feelings (emotionally) is something Vincent has a constant problem with and has for his entire life thus far, especially when dealing with the people he is close to. Often times, a first impression can hold alot of sway in his eyes and can take quite a while to erase a bad start. Depending on the situation and severity of the incursion, it is possible for Vincent to take a permanent stand and be completely against a person no matter their viewpoint on a certain subject. His stubbornness is a constant double-edged sword in his life as it can help him finish certain things and push through, as well as make him rub some people the wrong way solely based on his refusal to change his stance.





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❝The world changed from having the determinism of a clock to having the contingency of a pinball machine.❞
-- Heinz R. Pagels





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At a young age, Vincent's father walked out on their family, leaving Vince, his mother Rachel, and his one year old sister Haley to fend for themselves. It was a struggle to grow up in the household he did, their family constantly relying on other family members to get by and the meager salary his mother was able to bring home. But it was home, and the only one Vincent had ever really known. Not long after though, their life took what seemed a change for the better when his mother remarried and soon had another daughter, Jamie. As the oldest, alot was put on Vince and early into his teens, things began to change between himself and the majority of the rest of his family. Due to the tendencies of his step-father, the two of them didn't see eye-to-eye and were the constant center of conflict in the household, the rest of the family forced to take to the sidelines rather than get caught up in their combination of screaming/swinging matches. As soon as he was finished with High School, Vincent made the decision to leave home and everything that was associated with it behind to enlist in the military, with the aim of never looking back.



"I, Vincent Morra, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."



In every boy's starstruck mind, and even in the adolescent mind's of teenage youth, they want to be the hero. To become the badass they see in movies and run in, guns ablaze, as they take down the bad guys. Vincent was no different, but had an enlightening experience after a conversation with one of the Air Force's most elite Airman, Sergeant Perez, a Technical Sergeant and Pararescue trainer. With his mind made up, Vince shipped off for basic and then to his specialty training after. Roughly two years of training were two of the hardest years he had ever experienced and was one of only two Airmen that started in his class to reach the finish line the first time through. Up to this point, he had remained distant from the majority of his family save for his sisters. To his great joy, the two younger girls made a surprise appearance at his graduation, exchanging smiles, swapping stories, and bringing a much needed presence of happiness that had been replaced with blood, sweat, and yelling over the past few years.



"Josh says he's nervous about meeting my 'oh so overprotective' older brother!" Haley continued to ramble on about her idiot boyfriend as they sat around the restaurant table, Vincent sipping his coffee and forcing a smile as he thought about the good-for-nothing freeloader that mooched on his sister's dorm room couch all the time. 'He should be,' the thought intruded into his head, making the smile all that much easier as he thought about it, relieved when the subject turned back to his siblings. "And Jamie is starting on Varsity this year too," Haley continued, describing his blushing half-sister's accomplishments with flourishes and exaggerated gestures. "They have a good chance of winning state this year!" At the latest statement, the shy girl sitting opposite him piped up in force. "We don't know that!" Jamie blurted out. "There are still alot of great teams out there, it's going to be a tough year..." Smiling once again, Vince raised the cup to his lips once more.



Life as a Pararescue member was difficult, but more rewarding than Vincent could have ever imagined. The constant training and drilling kept him in peak physical condition and helped keep their troupe sane as they prepared for their next mission. After a few missions in, Vincent began to shine and was well respected in his unit for his quick decision making skills as well as his ability to improvise in a high stress situation. It was during one of the rescue missions just outside Fallujah that Vince's life took another turn in his favor. A helicopter crash left three men dead and a gunner severely injured, Vince and his team administered care as they successfully transported and evacuated the man to a safe rendezvous point. Vince would later check up on the man's condition after his debriefing, learning that he would make a full recovery and meeting a woman who would be a large part of the next few years of his life, Private Courtney Williams, the man's primary medic and care supervisor.



Vic paused a moment before the tent, resting his hand on the M9 strapped to his right leg as a small shadow crept quickly past the entrance to the flap with the red plus sign painted onto it. He knew how aggressive camel spiders could be, and he was not too enthusiastic about one dashing for the shade underneath him. 'I'll shoot, you piece of...' Before he could finish the thought, the devil of a creature continued on under the shade of a group of rocks some distance away. Brushing the flap away, he entered the tent, more like a small fabric house than a tent, and looked down the line, asking one of the personnel which bed his gunner was in. A small blonde woman glanced up from where she was finishing stitching the gouge in his side as Vic approached. "I'm a little busy right now, and you're standing in my light." Eyebrows rising, Vic stepped aside and picked up the small clipboard at the foot of the bed. "How's he doing?" He inquired to the woman as she cut off the last thread to her stitches and stood up. His eyes wandered to the 'Williams' stitched to her top, an exasperated sigh escaping her as she plucked the clipboard from his hands and returned it to its rightful place. Her eyes wandered to the patch on his arm and her features softened a bit. "He'll live, but that scar won't go away. You must be with the team that brought him in right? You guys got him here just in time, but your dressings could definitely use some work." Vic's eyebrows assumed a near-permanent position atop his head as he caught trying to hide the quick grin. "Well maybe you can bring me up to speed on the standards sometime. Though I'll pass on the stitching class," feigning looking past her at the gunner behind her, his features split in a grin, "yours sort of suck..."



The sarcastic banter turned into a lengthy conversation which then turned into a night in the dining hall turning in their two tickets for drinks allocated for the night. They found more of a comfort in each others' company as their individual deployments drew on and spent the majority of their downtime, which wasn't much, conversing and laughing together. As their time ended and they each returned home in their respective times, things became a bit harder, but not much changed. Living further apart limited their time seeing each other, but in the world as it is, technology made things quite simple. After a while, and constant badgering and clever pleading, Vince and Courtney cut their losses and finally were engaged. Following their new engagement, Vince was sent overseas once again for what was supposed to be a quick trip and a few training exercises. As nothing in the military ever really goes as planned, Vince was sent out with his team and a few others to retrieve a downed pilot a few miles out. What was supposed to be a mission to last 12 hours at most, turned into a 3-day debacle that ended with two men in Vince's unit dead, Vince shot, a very pissed off Colonel with a grudge, and ultimately, a court marshal that was not in Vince's favor.



"Staff Sergeant Morra, by the allegations against you, I don't see any way this ends well for you. Is there anything you'd like to add to the statement you submitted in your rebuttal?" Vince listened on as the committee of overseers reviewed his case. Just being in the room was proof that things weren't going well with his case. At his brief silence, one of the proctors chimed in. "Disobeying a direct order from a commissioned officer, decisions leading to and including the death of two Pararescue Airman, and assault on a fellow Airman leading to serious injury. It says here, and I quote: 'Sergeant Morra pistol-whipped him until he fell unconscious and quit fighting back...' Based on your reputation and statements from witnessing individuals, we can assume that a large portion of this is misunderstanding, but cannot ignore the fact that your actions were not completely justified. We are sentencing you to two years stay at FCI Oxford in Wisconsin to allow visiting rights from your family members and a discharge from the United States armed Forces." Vince sat defeated in his seat, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to change his sentence. The sight of his sisters, mother, and Courtney hurt more than anything as he turned from them and left the room.



The Virus was the first news that caught his attention since being incarcerated. Life in the medium security facility was incredibly dull, but he knew it could have been worse. The staff dwindled and inmates became sick soon after . Letters from his sister Jamie and Courtney informed him that the majority of their family had caught the bug as well and were doing fairly bad as people around the world dropped like flies. As the virus wracked the prison Vince soon became sick as well and was in a delirious state of pain and fever for days before a gap in his memory formed. He woke in his cell, no knowledge of the past few days as vomit, blood, and rotting food caused an unbearable stench. He had pounded on the doors for what seemed like hours before an inmate opened his door. The halls were a mess as guards and inmates alike lay dead in their own filth. The man who let Vince out acted strange and muttered about Vince wanting to hurt him. Trying to reassure the man, Vince was attacked. Reacting more than anything in his weakened state, his old training kicked in, but the man was larger than he and quickly had the upper hand. Slashing at Vince with a knife, Vince threw a blind jab to catch the man in the eye with a knuckle and through a scuffle that broke out, the man fell from the second story rafters and stopped moving. Without wanting to stick around, Vince investigated around before leaving the facility towards Milwaukee, two hours away, where his mother and step father resided.




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{ Deceased - ☣ / Alive - ☀ / Unknown - ? }

? John Morra ❂ 50 ❂ Father ❂ ?
☀ Russel Craig ❂ 51 ❂ Step-Father ❂ ☀
☣ Rachel Craig ❂ 48 ❂ Mother ❂ ☣
☣ Haley Morra ❂ 23 ❂ Sister ❂ ☣
☀ Jamie Craig ❂ 20 ❂ Half-Sister ❂ ☀
☣ Courtney Williams ❂ 24 ❂ FiancΓ© ❂ ☣





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❝The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up.❞
-- Mark Twain





So begins...

Vincent Morra's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vincent Morra Character Portrait: Reeve Conway Character Portrait: Katherine Woods Character Portrait: Ailidh Withypol Character Portrait: Dareios Virgo Character Portrait: Kristopher Todd
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β€œMemory's are all that matter in the end.”





Weather Forecast: Cloudy, Heavy snow; Possible rain

Location: Near Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Temperature: Hi 10Β° | Lo -2Β°

Date: February 10th

Time: 6:34 AM




Diary Entry 1#

It's been so long since I've seen another Human. I can feel my social skills and mind slipping. It's been two months I think. I don't know, I stopped counting the days a long time ago. If someone had told me earlier that I would be one of the last few alive, I would have laughed in their face. The World was once so full, it seemed impossible that so many people would be gone so fast.

They had even ran out of room to bury the dead. The last hospital I went to - after the End - at first I was so confused, there was no one in there. No dead. Not in any of the rooms. The Voices told me they turned into Monsters. I knew they were lying. When I got to the court yard all of the bodies were piled up real high, almost to the top of the building.

We don't know who did it. The Voices are getting scared, but I'm not. No no no. I'll protect them, they can trust me.

There's a girl walking through my town. She's been here for a few hours. The Voices told me she was bad, so I trapped her in the cellar. They want me to kill her. I think I might. They say she's tainted, that she'll try to hurt us. I don't know what to do. I want a friend. Maybe she can be my friend.

In time.

- H. H





The sun would soon begin to peak above the horizon, signalling the start of a new - frigid - day. The wind whipped every which way, throwing around small snowflakes in different directions. The trees shook with the wind, making the forest seem like it was shivering from the cold. The only noise came from the wind.

The high way near the large cluster of trees was littered with unmoving cars and the occasional body that had been picked over by the wild life that has taken over recently, however, what lay within the cars was much worse than what was outside. The rotting bodies of the once sick were locked within. The deceased withering away.

The silence was deafening.

It's been two months since mankind crumbled and the last broadcast, promising hope, stopping airing. Two months since The Virus wrought the world and turned it inside out. Two months since billions died. Two months since the world seemingly ended. Two months. Two months and this is the world we were left with. Because none of them were strong enough to pull through it was now up to us to fix things - to rebuild and start over.

We were left with a rotting, death filled, crazy inhabited wasteland, and told that we had to keep going. It wasn't fair, but this was all we had left. This silence. Our story takes place here, lately, though there are few survivors, there have been rumors of a colony in California. This colony is accumulating survivors, keeping them safe and giving them a place to call home. They want to start over, to rebuild the world.

What we must do is simple. Survive, get to the colony in California, and take as many other survivors with us as we can. We are starting out in Milwaukee, Wisconsin we will make our way to California. Some of us are alone, some of us are not, some may be searching for lost loved ones.

It does not matter, we all must survive, and to do so we need each other.

Soon we will all be united together, a group of able bodies and strong minds. We will get to California, or we will die trying.


Let It Begin...

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Character Portrait: Vincent Morra Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat determination and hard work."





Still...silent.


The usual sounds and sights of the ever busy world Vince had known were now distant, and almost nonexistent, memories, lost in the aftermath of the virus he had only just recently learned about. He knew of the bug going around, but when the correctional facility was placed on lock down, everyone was cut off from the vein of information that would spell out how serious the situation had become. He wasn't prepared for the world he had stepped out into less than a week ago, no one could have been prepared for this. Overnight, it seemed, the world had gone silent. Silent, and still, as calm as the four graves before him, now piled mounds due to the snow over the past few days.

Vince had dug the graves himself after arriving at his mother and step-father's house. His mother...he had known she had become sick and had more than just a feeling that she had passed on. Haley was next to her, they did everything together and it was no real surprise when he found out she had gotten sick as well. Her visits to the correctional facility had dwindled and then ceased shortly before the lock down. Courtney filled the void as she began to show signs as well, too stubborn to abandon his family and go to the doctor to get herself looked at. But at the same time, smarter than Vincent to realize the hospitals were worse off than dying in the comfort of a home. The fourth grave was a curiosity, a man leaning dead against the fence in his parent's back-yard, snow up to his chest. It was too hard to say what killed him, but Vincent couldn't leave him there.

Noticing his hands had begun to turn a wicked shade of purple, Vince pushed himself from the ground to stand and walk to the house. The acrid smell of death still present in the air, it was no wonder he had chosen to stay in the shed over the passed day or so. He pulled up the thick scarf he had wrapped about his neck and covered his nose and mouth. He may have survived the virus, but that wasn't the only one present in the world, and he had overstayed his welcome. It was time he moved on.

Reaching into the thick coat pocket, he pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket with the address scribbled on it.

1170 W. 31St St.
Los Angeles, CA 90007
Apartment 12


It was Jamie's address for her school dorm. The letter he had found inside the house had been from her a few months before this had all started. His youngest sister had contracted the virus first out of their entire family. She had survived though. Courtney had told him that some people were naturally immune to viruses, so maybe his family would be lucky. The graves bounced into his mind once again as he remembered the words. Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he grabbed his stuff and headed toward the door. California was a long way, and he'd never get there by wishing things were different.

A look outside nearly made him second guess the trip, or at least delay it. Snow was still coming down, even if not as vehemently as the clouds suggested it would, and everything was layered with ice and sleet. His step-father's car was gone, where he had no idea. Hopefully the man had finally driven himself off the side of a cliff, or into a wall at least. Courtney's car was still in the driveway, but the little Accord was pointless in this weather, even if its battery wasn't as dead as the rest of the world. "What I wouldn't do for a helicopter right about now....." He said aloud, a bit amused at the thought. He had never flown a helicopter, but he had jumped from enough of them to watch the pilots and get the general gist of things. How hard could it be?




Even with the absence of any living creature that he was aware of, Vince still moved as if he was under constant observation, his military training pounding discipline into his every movement. It may have seemed a little silly to anyone who could see him considering the lack of anything at all left in his path, yet he would be justified if anyone could actually see him. Regardless, he needed supplies if he was to make the trip. The majority of everything would be improvised as he went, but one thing was needed before he set out.

The convenience store wasn't in the greatest shape, but that was unsurprising considering the state of things at the moment in the world. Looters had obviously been there at some point, but everything was still once more in his vision. Even still, he made a thorough check of the perimeter while being obscured from sight by the snow. Doubtful of there being anything of real use, he was still hopeful as he made his way to the door that he might find something edible to stock up on.

The glass on the door was already broken, as were most of the windows, and the place was in shambles. Slowly pulling the door open, he made one last check behind him as he prepared to walk in. At that moment, due to the ice and preexisting cracks in the glass, accelerated by the motion of the door, a large portion of the remaining glass came loose and tumbled to the hard floor beneath. The shattering was earsplitting in the dead silence of the world, even with the damper the weather provided. Cursing under his breath, he did the only thing he could do and moved into the store, knowing there was little reason to take the sound into concern, but instinctively letting his eyes and ears do their thing as he waited a moment to see what the sound might draw.

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Character Portrait: Vincent Morra Character Portrait: Katherine Woods Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape."

― Charles Dickens





The smoke coming from under the car's hood wasn't a good sign. "Oh, no. Please, don't do this."Katherine all but begged the truck as if it would actually help, as the car started to jerk, then stop all at once. She leaned against the steering wheel with a sigh. "This is just my luck." There was a yip coming from the back seat from the black Labrador, Loki, who seemed to be agreeing to her statement. She had found him in a small apartment, few towns over. The poor thing had been left alone, his owner probably died in a hospital since there were no signs of anybody dieing inside. Luckily, Loki wasn't starving since the cabinet where the dry dog food was kept had been left open. He was about one year old and well trained, from what Katherine could tell, and since she was a dog lover leaving him there was out of the question.

There was nothing she could do; the car engine was dead. She took her backpack from the passenger seat and got out of the car, then opened the door to let Loki out, too. "Come on, boy. We are going to have to walk." Loki jumped out and stretched, before he run to sniff around. Katherine fastened the backpack on her back, and took a woolen hat from her jacket pocket and put it on. She also had matching gloves, but apparently they weren't fire proof and since at that time she wasn't in that much of a control of her new found ability, she had accidental burned them. Since then she stared practicing how to control it and she found out that if she concentrated to warm her hand up just a bit she didn't even need them anymore. After Loki relived himself he came back to Katherine's side and patiently waited for her to start walking toward the town.


Oh how Katherine used to love snow. As kids, she and Keaton would be outside all day making snowman and having snowball fights with the neighborhood kids. They didn't mind that their cheeks and noses were red from the cold, it was like it didn't even bother them. Their mother could only lure them inside with hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies, but even that didn't last long, they would shortly go back outside with their tummies full. But now the snow didn't bring up those happy feelings it once did. The cold seemed to seep deep into Katherine's bones, the wind howled and moaned as if it was mourning the people that had once lived in this new ghost town. The snow covered streets that were not that long ago full of people stood empty; it was so eerie that Katherine expected some kind of a monster to jump out from one of the back alleys.

Aside from the wind, her own footsteps and the occasional bark from Loki, everything was silent. She kept looking around, feeling as if eyes were following her every movement, which was probably just her imagination. At least she hoped, she wasn't looking forward walking into crazies or worse, those guys. After all it wasn't that long ago that she had escaped the group of looters that had attacked her. About three weeks ago, she had woken up in a warehouse of sorts after she had been knocked out by one of them when they sneaked up on her. When they tried to have their way with her, the panic and anger that she was feeling somehow triggered something in her. One moment she was trying to push away the face of the guy that was towering over her, and the next he howled in pain when her palm connected with his face. It was hard to tell who was more surprised by her new found ability, her or the guy who now has a burned hand print on his face. In the confusion she managed to steal their car and escape, but there was no telling when they will find her after all they didn't really look like the forgiving and forgetting kind of guys.

Next to her, Loki whined and nudged her right hand before licking it. "I know, buddy. I'm hungry, too."Katherine scratched him behind his ear, than looked around searching for a store. It had been about a day since they ate the last remains of their food supply, which wasn't much to begin with, and even though she kind of got used to very small amounts of food in these two months, she still needed to have more energy to walk since now she doesn't have a car anymore. "Let's go check that store out. Maybe we'll find something for you at least" The store wasn't in a very good condition. The door and the windows were broken and there was glass and trash all over the floor. Some of the shelves were turned over, and it was obvious that looters had been in here, if the empty shelves for alcohol beverages were any indication. Loki was one lucky dog, since it seemed that since the world went to hell, nobody seemed to bother to stock up with dog food. Katherine took a couple of cans of some kind of stews and and two smaller bags of dried dog food, since the bigger bags would've been way heavier for her to carry. She finished putting them in her backpack when suddenly there was a sound of glass shattering from the front of the store. Katherine ducked behind one of the shelves just as Loki started to growl, alerting her that they had company.