Projekto Nosferatu- draft Ch. 1 Part 1

Blood. In all the seventeen years of my life I have no prior memory of seeing that vile crimson liquid. I hate the sight. And yet this fear crazed tigro will stop at nothing to cover the landscape with mine. So this is what fighting is like...

Toronto, Ohio

         To the death. Jonatan Krieger, a young human kloni (clone) had found himself in a dire situation. This is nothing like the training! I don't want to fight! Why does this man want to kill me? he thought as he tried to dodge the savage beast-man's strike. Both were injured, but still this mock battle was going nowhere for the human and fast. He had to do something. "You'll pay for letting my sister die, creature! Morti, monstron!" the young tigro screamed as he drew back his arm for one last lethal knife thrust.
         In that moment it was as if everything froze. He thinks me a... monster? The word echoed through Jon's mind. Monster. As time started to flow again, the beast-man stood in place, his face half confused, half dubious. The reason being that the pale and hairless boy was... laughing.
         "Hehe... you call me a monster... AND YET YOU DARE TO SHOW THAT UGLY FACE TO ME?!" Jon abruptly screamed; and in a blur of motion he sprung himself forward, snatching the the knife and turning towards the back of the rugged furry creature. The tigro had only just realized what was happening but when he started to react, it was too late. In an instant all the unnamed tigro's feelings were replaced with a sharp, aching pain as he collapsed the the ground.
         Jonatan had fallen to his knees. He closed his eyes, trying to forget; but he just couldn't. The hatred, anger and sadness. And there was this awkward feeling... pleasure. It disgusted him. But reality returned to focus when he heard someone calling him. A familiar voice; somewhat high pitch and incredibly soft.
         "Jonatan! Get up, we need to get out of here before the building ex-" A tall blonde girl was standing at the doorway on the other side of the room. Her name... as Jonatan remembered it now, her name was Miria. Her bright green eyes shifted from a look of concern to surprise, and finally to realization and horror. "-plodes. Alright..." Jon finished and replied, his face becoming cold as ice and dead serious. He got up, grabbed Miria's hand and started running at full speed to the closest unblocked stairwell, dragging her along.

Revolution. Our world covered in deceit, lies and suffering. All because a group of tigro scientists curious as to the origin of their species decided to recreate humanity from it's ashes. I am Jonatan Krieger, the last reborn from Projekto Genezo (Project Genesis). What the rest of the world called and to this day refers to as Projekto Nosferatu.

         "Why?" was the only word Miria could manage as they reached a seemingly safe spot on the ruinous and cracked asphalt road.
"Because... I had to. He would have hunted and killed us both." Jonatan replied, unsure of his own words.
"There are other ways!"
"Like what? Binding him to a hunk of rubble and let him sit for hours till he finally frees himself, only to chase us or flee and return with others?"
His logic was undeniable, yet guilt still proceeded to shroud him. Guilt because of that feeling. That thrill he felt while destroying any chance his opponent had of survival. He too wanted to ask that part of himself why, yet he could not manage the strength.
         But they could keep going. Raphi would have wanted us to keep going. But he would also respect the dead. Jonatan thought. Letting go of Miria, he stopped dead in his tracks as they were walking away. Not paying attention to Miria's depressed and confused look, he faced the building. Closing his eyes, he placed his right index finger on his left shoulder and proceeded to make the sign of the Cross. Now obviously he wasn't taught much of religion but he figured it would be at least respectful that he should pray. Miria, not entirely realizing what he was doing but understanding the reasoning behind this action, so she too saluted the tigro that would soon be left in the wreckage of that place. As soon as they turned to walk away the whole building was engulfed in flames and blown apart.
Tears filled their eyes as they walked out onto the plains.

         Raphi was the 98,934th the "Fathers" created from ravaged and irradiated DNA left in the wasteland. As you may have guessed, we are using past tense because he is dead. He died saving the lives of Jonatan Krieger (#100-000) and Miria Lisbeth (#099-987) from an incident similar to this one. They were being pursued by tigro mercenaries; Raphi forced them to flee while he blew up the house they were hiding in, himself and the mercs along with it.