Hunted and Haunted (3)

Hope looked to the sides where the wire was attached. 

The walls were already blackened with soot, and fragments of bone peeked through the rubble scattered across the floor.

An Awakened resetting up the same traps?

How often did this person get out?

For a moment, Hope debated if he should disarm it. A bomb to carry around and throw at any bigger threat would be convenient. But he must admit that he wasn't confident in such skill. 

'I know who would though.'

At that thought, his teammate's face flashed across his eyes: GA-012.

She had the unquestionable talent to do…well, whatever she needed to do to disarm any mechanism. Even if he had to take on the job to do it himself, it was her voice that guided him along the way. If she gave him a specific time when she'd disarm an alarm, her promise wasn't a second late. 

'Huh…?'

"Wait…" Hope muttered from that thought. "Alarm—"

But before Hope could expand on those memories, one of the children's faces peeked down the alley. Well then. The curious little ones didn't completely leave afterall. He supposed he was too interesting before his Flaw could wipe him from their memory. Wasn't there a saying that curiosity killed the cat?

Whatever the hell a cat was.

'Hmm.' 

Hope didn't return the stare. 

In fact, he feigned ignorance, at least for now, and stretched out the corroded pipe in his right hand–the rust scratching his palm as he did so.

As Hope pretended to poke the wire, there again in the corner of his eye were small faces paling in fear, and their tiny gasps hitched.

"..."

Hope pulled the pipe away.

"..."

Then reached out again–

"..!"

"Sigh…" Hope sighed as he casually swung and rested the pipe on his shoulder.

Startled as they were, did they find it fascinating to watch someone blow up? Well, what else could they be entertained with? 

Hope shook his head and dismissed the Ashen Shield as he stood up. The scrawny faces of the children immediately retreated out of sight.

But speaking of his Memory, was there someone who could repair it? Did it have to be in the hands of an Awakened? No one mentioned how to repair Memories.

Hope's eyebrow twitched.

'What else haven't they informed me on?'

They and his damn supervisor shouldn't have been too confident that he wouldn't be infected. 

Step–

And his teammates should not be suffering the same fate either. He would have to have some word with the higher ups about this lack of knowledge–

"..."

'And how would that play out?'

"Tsk. Forget it." That was a problem for another day. If it didn't affect the present, it wasn't his to tackle at the moment.

Step–

Hope carefully walked over the tripwire, and a few paces after he did the same with another taut slice of silver.

As Hope continued further down, navigating cautiously through the treacherous alley, he found himself facing the other side. A side open to a broken street of the usual abandoned cars and mud. 

"Well then…" Hope looked around through the drizzling rain. Any memory of his past with this weather barely teased him as his eyes intently bounced the scape. 

Hope looked down and found the small feet leaving smudges on the damp earth.

How clumsy. If it was anyone else, they would hunt them down with malevolent intent. Why anyone would have children in this place was beyond him. That brought unnecessary struggle for the child, until they grew up and became callous that those parents prayed they'd be to survive their ruined world.

As he raised his gaze again, traced in the foggy distance were the two leaning towers. They gradually blurred in the background, but they weren't as far as he'd expected.

Thud.

Hope leaned against a wall and stared solemnly at the view. 

If he didn't have the [Tears of Sorrow], he would've been tempted to sleep for a few minutes. 

But at the moment, he was listening to his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

The marks growing warm once more against the dampness pressing around him.

Huh. If he could just disassociate himself enough from the pain, then it wouldn't be as much of a problem anymore. Sometimes ignoring it wasn't enough. But it was another mind game he could play along. 

"Bet you're still satisfied I'm still alive." Hope muttered to the sky. Heavens. Universe. Spell. Whatever it was damn called.

Hope began slightly limping forward as he again followed their trail.

If these kids were born here, especially to dodge these traps with ease, then he supposed they were also his ticket to move around here. Although the idea wasn't to capture them by any means. Following them was enough to have a safer route to follow.

Huh. What was the hour of the day now? 

Past afternoon he was sure.

But if sunset came soon, then he would have to camp for night…For a long, damn, night.

"Tsk…" Hope made progress compared to this morning, but it didn't feel like enough. 

Something else had to happen, but what?

'As if the Fallen Creature wasn't enough?'

No that couldn't be it. Was it some gut feeling then?

As Hope cautiously followed after a couple buildings, dodging between suspicious ground patches and more tripwires, their footprints suddenly disappeared. But there was no need to be startled. Not after noticing a muddy trail weaving from the ground to a dumpster, and vanishing again behind a glass pane.

At least it wasn't scaling a building.

Hope then climbed onto the dumpster, the claw marks beginning to throb hotly against his body. His soaked uniform weighed heavily as if wanting to drag him down. Each movement squelching.

Hope finally leaned his ear against the wall, listening to the quiet as though the silence were speaking.

And in many cases in the past week, it did.

Thoughts raced into Hope's mind, possible scenarios played as he opened the window pane.

Crrrrr—

The hinges creaked. 

As usual, Hope counted. 

But then he blinked as he saw something. Confirming that there wasn't any ugly threat, he slipped inside into the gloom.

His boots landed with a heavy thud, immediately he recognized his surroundings of an abandoned kitchen. Faint rot lingered in the air, and stuffed in the corners was thick green mold.

Not a second later, something shifted in the air—

Woosh!

"Arg!" A young voice cried.

A wooden plank swung towards Hope's head.

In one easy motion, Hope stepped back dodging the swing. Fear and surprise filled the child's eyes as his small arms striked empty space. And with that, Hope extended the pipe and tripped the boy with a simple nudge. 

"Wah?!" The boy hit the kitchen floor with a soft thud.

"Stop!"

"..."

As if summoned, Hope side-glanced at another child pointing a gun at him. Small. Fierce. Her disheveled hair scattered over her eyes. Behind her was a younger child clinging to her shirt, peeking behind. Fear and curiosity mixing in all their gazes. Something half-familiar. And half-feral.

'Ah. A gun.'

"..." Hope tilted his head. "You know how to use that thing?"

"D-don't come any closer!"

Hope blinked from the order. 'Too loud.'

His eyes drifted from the boy on the floor to the girl with the gun as if they weren't any real threat. At that moment, his shadow fell over the fallen boy who stared helplessly at him. A figure with glistening wounds hugged in black.

If she continued to bark like that, Hope would have to subdue her.

The boy he tripped crawled desperately away like a wounded animal, picking up the plank again in defiance. 

Hope raised his hand in surrender. "Alright."

"...!" The girl's eyes trembled. She signaled to the fallen boy to retreat back as her hands still wrapped around the trigger.

"..."

"..."

Hope carried his indifferent expression as the seconds rolled on by.

"Y-you–" The girl stammered. "You need to leave."

The room held nothing but breaths and silence. The hush of drizzling rain and mist seeped in behind as Hope calmly thought of his next move. Well, he had already decided even before the pointed barrel. 

"Sigh…" 

Hope slowly reached a hand up, causing the girl to flinch from the simple action.

And then he closed the glass pane shut.

"No."