A Red Jacket

That's what I wore. That person said it was a nice color on me.

So that's the color I wore.

It wasn't a bright red, but more of a down-to-earth color. It apparently went with the shade of my pale skin or something, I don't really remember. That person was also the one to tape down my sleeves and my pants, saying something about how it would help with maneuvering. And that person was also the person to give me a crash course in a sport called 'parkour'. All I know about it is that I'm really good at it.

Even that person said so.

Oh, my name's Vincent. I don't bother telling people my last name 'cuz at this point, there isn't a need to. No one in this group knows anyone's last name. Not even that person. Who looked at me with sad eyes. Why does that person always look sad? I don't understand.

I was sitting on the floor of the safe house, my arms on top of my feet Indian-style. "Something wrong?"

That person only gave me a sad smile.

"You haven't told us your name."

"Oh," That person leaned against the bloodied wall, sliding down slowly, "I'm sorry. You can call me Captain, everyone does."

"Captain," I said aloud, "I'm Vincent."

"As said before." That person added with a practiced smirk. "You sure have a lot of energy."

"He can't help it." Oh, that was the other guy in our group: Scott. He's kinda mean when he wants to be; which happens to be all the time. "You two can stay here; I'm going to look for help."

"There's a couple of Tanks out there, Scott. You shouldn't go by yourself." Captain said tiredly.

"I'll be fine."

With that the door shut.

And that was the last time I heard from Scott.

After that, I woke up, after not remembering falling asleep, to Captain pulling me roughly up to my feet and shoving an M-16 into my arms.

"Charger and Spitter outside. Door's broken. We've got to move." I watched in a half-sleep daze as Captain slipped blades against his pale knuckles. He hit the barricade on the door away, turning to me and commenting softly, "Ready?"

I don't remember if I said yes or whatever, but I do remember being dragged outside the safe room and vaguely recall shooting at moving targets. Apparently I hit something good because Captain cheered me on as we continued.

That when I felt the streaking pain in my left arm. It was right below where the tape on my forearm was. I let out a scream, but kept going as Captain dragged me along. The pain blazed up and down my arm and throughout every crevice in my body. In short, it really hurt. I mean really, really hurt. I tried to keep from letting tears streak down my cheeks, but to no avail. They were falling anyway.

"You're gonna be alright kid, I promise."

Those were the words my parents used before they… well… turned. See where that got them? Pretty far, huh?

I almost wanted to hold him to that promise, knowing I probably would anyway, but the pain began to spread.

I yelped in pain when Captain gathered me into strong arms and began running, threading through the trees with ease.

I guess the throbbing of the pain swelled down when I opened my eyes to see the door of a safe room upside down in my view.

"Damn... I was hoping you were a carrier."

A carrier was someone that… y'know, I don't really understand carriers. At all. Doesn't matter because that was the second to last thing I heard.

"I'm not giving up on you."

And darkness consumed my world.

"I promise."

A growl.

It consumed me. I could smell the scent of blood that lingered in the room. It flooded my head. I wanted out. Crouching, I scanned the room that confined me. A dark room covered in scratches and markings along the walls. But those weren't what caught my attention.

A slumped figure rested in the corner, head down and unmoving.

Unmoving, but I could smell the life on it.

I cautiously neared the figure, my body pressed to the ground as much as my crouching body would allow. I vaguely recognized the face through the growl that escaped my lips.

It's body was unscathed, no other had touched it yet. My fingers twitched in delight as the thought of running my claws through it's pale flesh. I furthered my crouch, preparing the attack I so wished for.

And, I got my wish.

I leapt, stretching out until I collided with the figure, sending it backwards to have it's head sickeningly collide with the cold ground.

I widely swung my arm upwards, angling sharp claws at the figure's torso. It was a weak point I knew.

But then I saw the figure's face.

Painful sleep was strewn across the figure's features. Brows drawn together, furrowed. Lips slightly apart, drawing in a hitched breath.

"Vincent?"

I knew that voice. It carried right into my covered ears. I jolted to a pause, my arm still raised in attack.

I hissed in warning, letting my teeth show.

"I know it's you."

I hissed again.

The figure's eyes slowly opened.

Lucid eyes.

I knew those eyes. Those piercing eyes that hit me. Stared into my soul.

Why? Just, why?

Anyone? Help me?

Hissing at the figure, I raised my arm once more.

"I won't give up on you, Vincent." The figure called, "You're still Vincent."

I'm sure that was my name, considering the figure kept calling me that.

"Let me help you."

I lowered my arm, leaning back in my crouch and giving a low, warning growl.

"Please, Vincent. I know you're still there."

The figure raised one of it's arms, holding out a bloody hand in my direction. I reared back once more.

"…Vincent." The figure's tone softened even more. "I'm not going to let you down."

I let out a soft growl, and took one crawling step closer to the figure. And then another. Finally, I let out one more growl before sniffing the bloody hand still held out for me.

"I won't hurt you."

The figure reached out and wrapped it's strong arms around me. I felt panicked, and let my arms swing widely as my claws ripped satisfyingly into the figure's clothed chest. The smell of fresh blood drifted into my senses.

But the figure didn't let me go. It only held tighter, and let me cut into it until my arms grew crimson with liquid life. I let my arms slow until only my chest heaved with the movement of air.

"Are you… done?"

I hissed at the voice once more.

"I'm not leaving you. Not unless you kill me."

I wanted the figure to leave. It wouldn't leave me alone. It wouldn't let me go. I was afraid of it and wanted it to leave. But at the same time, the arms that held me tight felt so…

Safe. They felt safe.

o.O

Hey guys, wazzup?

This will stay as a OneShot until further notice. If y'all want more of it, lemme know, and I'll write some more. If not, hey, enjoy (Or not, your choice) this oneshot.

Thanks to everyone who even read a single word!

O.o