Rapture

I wake up to the metallic scent emanating from the creature in front of me—a robotic dog named Russ. Russ, a technological marvel, was created by an engineer I met six years ago. Since the engineer's demise, I consider myself fortunate to have inherited Russ. Modeled after a German Shepherd, Russ possesses remarkable speed, akin to that of a cat, and strength surpassing that of a bear. I affectionately pat the dog and inquire, "What's up, Russ? It's already 7 am?" The robotic dog shakes its head, revealing a radar screen on its back. Six dots are displayed, three red, two white, and one blue. "Russ, let's get to it!" I exclaim, hastily gathering my gear beside my bedding. Russ outpaces me, darting out of the small house we've taken refuge in. I follow suit, stepping outside to find the sky tinged with a reddish hue—a sign of a distant demonic ritual, beyond our immediate vicinity. Ignoring the ominous sky, I pursue Russ. The agile robotic dog effortlessly vaults over the ruined streets, while I navigate the obstacles presented by abandoned cars along the way. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierces the air, "NOOO!" We swiftly turn around the corner and witness a woman pinned to the ground by an aswang—an eerie folklore creature that emerged after the Rapture. Aswangs typically resemble humans but lack hair, sporting a ghoulish appearance. The creature attempts to sink its teeth into the woman, but Russ manages to tackle it in time. Clutching my jar of rock salt, I call out to the woman, "Hey, are you alright? Did it bite you? Do you have any companions?" The woman gazes at me, her voice trembling, "Ya-yes, my daughter and husband are at the pharmacy, but-" Before she can finish her sentence, an elongated tongue ensnares her, abruptly cutting her off. I draw my knife from my waist, but it's too late. The woman is swiftly dragged into the depths of the sewers. Filled with remorse for not being vigilant enough, I'm brought back to the present by a robotic bark from Russ, who appears triumphant after subduing the aswang, its neck twisted at an awkward angle. Recalling the woman's family, I sprint forward, urging Russ, "Go to the pharmacy quickly!" Russ barks affirmatively and dashes ahead. I stow my knife and retrieve my customized AUG assault rifle. Knowing a child's life is at stake, I cannot afford to let history repeat itself. Finally arriving at the pharmacy, Russ forcefully breaks in, shattering the glass. From inside, I hear grunts and a distinctive c***k—Russ has eliminated one of the threats. A flapping sound captures my attention, prompting me to raise my AUG, aiming at the sky. "A well-armed one?" a voice resonates from above, the creature struggling to mimic a human tone. Unfazed, I take aim and fire, cutting off its speech, "Back to hell, bastard." The creature shrieks as it plummets to the ground. Swiftly, I grab a handful of salt from the jar and hurl it at the creature. Its ghastly skin sizzles upon contact, accompanied by agonizing screeches. Smirking at the putrid odor of its burning flesh, I scoff, "You should have never ventured out from hell." Entering the pharmacy, I'm met with shattered glass and disheveled aisles. Moans of pain emanate from within, accompanied by Russ's low, robotic whining. He chuckled weakly, "Thanks, man. Unfortunately, I won't survive, but at least it bought me some time." With his back against the wall, his innards exposed, and a chunk of his shoulder missing, he sighed, "I know I'm a stranger, but can you take care of my daughter? My wife is unreliable, and I believe she's already dead." Coughing up blood, he continued, "Her name is Samantha. She's stubborn but intelligent. She'll warm up to you eventually. Just... don't let her see my body." I nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of his request. Grabbing a jar of salt, I reassured him, "Your daughter will be in safe hands." He nodded and closed his eyes, accepting his fate. As I poured half of the salt onto him, he gradually transformed into ashes. There was a slim chance he might turn into an aswang, if luck was on his side. All that remained were his backpack and clothes. I discreetly stashed his clothes under a rack and took the backpack, determined to honor my promise. The pharmacy appeared to be intact, with a decent amount of supplies left. However, my priority was finding Samantha. The pharmacy had a counter at the front and another counter inside the medical area. The store was divided into sections for everyday items like food and over-the-counter drugs, while the prescription drugs were locked away. Additionally, the janitor's room was left open. Glancing at Russ, who was by my side, I sighed deeply, realizing where Samantha might be hiding. Carefully tiptoeing towards the door, I turned the knob, relieved to find it unlocked. Making my way inside the janitor's room, I was surprised to see it clean and devoid of any signs of struggle. "She must be quite the hide-and-seek expert," I thought to myself. "Samantha, I'm not going to harm you. Your father asked me to take care of you," I called out, my voice gentle yet firm. The janitor's room was small, and a girl's scattered clothes lay on the bunk bed. Next to it was a suitcase, indicating Samantha's presence. As I surveyed the room, I noticed a shelf stocked with canned goods and medicine. This room seemed to have served as a shelter for Samantha and her father. It appeared that my arrival in this town had coincided with a stroke of luck, stumbling upon valuable supplies. A muffled thud came from the closet beside the fridge, drawing my attention. It seemed I had indeed found Samantha. Crouching down, I cautiously approached the closet, speaking softly, "Samantha, I promise I won't hurt you." Without warning, Samantha burst out of the closet, clutching a 9mm gun. I couldn't help but feel a mix of concern and frustration. A stubborn kid armed with a weapon was far from ideal. Her blonde hair obscured her eyes as she stammered, "Ge-get down!" Swallowing my apprehension, I tried to defuse the situation, "Look, I don't have much time to argue. I'm only here to gather supplies." I attempted to manipulate the circumstances, hoping to lower her guard and convince her to come with me. If her father's words held true, gaining her trust might not be an insurmountable task. Samantha appeared bewildered and gradually lowered the gun, her voice trembling, "You sh-shouldn't be here!" Sighing, I replied, "I stumbled upon your father while fighting a demon. I believe you're Samantha, right?" Samantha nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. I retrieved her father's backpack and placed it on the ground for her to inspect. Her face turned sorrowful as she pondered the loss of her father and contemplated her next steps. Curiosity sparked within me, and I asked, "Where's your mother?" Samantha's brow furrowed with resentment. "I don't need her. She's the one who attracted those three monsters." A sudden realization struck me—I hadn't seen the creature with the long tongue among the attackers. "Samantha, come with me," I urged, concerned for their safety. Nodding once more, Samantha agreed, "Okay, but I need to gather these things. My father worked hard to collect them." A slight smirk formed on my lips. She reminded me of a certain child I once cared for. "Alright, Samantha, I'll leave you with Russ." Samantha narrowed her eyes, unsure of who Russ was. I stood up and opened the door, beckoning, "Come here, Russ." Russ cautiously entered the room, emitting robotic barks that conveyed his curiosity and apparent liking for Samantha. Samantha holstered her 9mm gun, a sign of growing trust, and asked, "Does he bite?" Shaking my head, I reassured her, "No, he's a friendly dog who has helped me defeat numerous monsters. He's also incredibly helpful in various situations." Samantha scrutinized both Russ and me, deliberating my trustworthiness. Slowly, she approached Russ, who acknowledged her gentle approach by sitting down. Samantha began to pat him, a smile gracing her lips. "He's fluffy, even though you said he's a robot," Samantha observed, continuing to stroke the robodog. Returning the smile, I replied, "Indeed, he may be a robot, but he has a coat to make him less intimidating and more approachable." Samantha let out a sigh, her gaze shifting between Russ and me. Despite finding comfort in the robodog's presence, she exuded an intelligence that surpassed my initial expectations. Locking eyes with me, Samantha inquired, "Is my father really dead?" Realizing that avoiding the truth would be futile, I sighed and confessed, "Yes, he died while fighting. I did my best to help him, but he was bitten, and it was too late to save him." Samantha held my gaze, her eyes a shade of brown that hinted at a foreign origin rather than being like the locals. Standing up, Samantha walked toward the supplies, her determination unwavering. "My father taught me not to mourn unless someone is truly gone. I won't cry like other kids." Impressed by her unwavering will and fierce expression, I gently patted her shoulder. "I'll entrust Russ to you, and I have a vehicle ready." Leaving this town as soon as possible was our best course of action. While the gunshot might have alerted nearby monsters, we hoped to avoid their attention and escape to safety.