Abby Williams was born and raised in Denver, Colorado by single mother Rita Williams. The youngest of 4 brothers, Abby naturally grew up with a will to survive and a tomboy spirit. Scrappy as she was, her mother still expected her to fulfill expectations that one day she’d marry and start a family. But the rebellious nature in her couldn’t stand the thought, and by the time she was 16 she had run away to pursue her true passion- music. Unfortunately, Abby never actually learned how to play an instrument, but being a musician was never a requirement to be a groupie. She used her charm and charisma to get in with lesser-known rock bands, helping them with odd jobs to keep herself useful enough to maintain her spot on their tour bus. When one tour ended, she would find another, relishing the lifestyle and the ability to travel wherever she pleased.
As one would expect, healthy habits were not common among the people she spent her time with, and within a year she developed a nasty cocaine habit and a drinking problem. Every so often, when she ran out of money and found herself back in Colorado, she would come back to her mother’s doorstep with a promise that this was the last time. That she was determined to be the good, sober daughter her mom always dreamed of having. This mindset would last maybe a month or two before she was back in the arms of some guitarist promising her that he’d make it big.
Abby was 18 years old when she found herself in Oslo, Norway the summer of 2019. She was touring with a prominent Russian metal band, this time as their photographer and social media manager. Naturally, she had heard word here and there about the spread of AVM-FLA-19 but didn’t particularly worry about it until it began to cancel touring opportunities. Venues were pulling out left and right, and no money flow meant that most of the bands she built rapport with were headed back to their respective homes. Even the drummer she was currently dating at the time did so little as to leave her a note one morning, telling her he packed up his things and was headed back to Moscow. Given the fact that she had spent nearly all her money on booze and coke, she knew she had very little chance of scoring a ticket back to America anytime soon.
The prospect didn’t particularly bother her, as it wasn’t anything new. But the circumstances certainly left some things to be desired. One of them being housing. No money meant no substantial lodging, so she was left with two options – streets or shelters. The third option would be couch hopping, however, the strict quarantine that was instilled in Oslo and surrounding cities meant that not many people were keen to open their doors to strangers, no matter how charming they were.
Abby spent the next year in and out of shelters, performing odd jobs for extra cash. At one point she was even paid to get vaccinated, an opportunity she jumped on, even with the concerning side effects. She befriended a small group who invited her in with open arms into their tent city, finding special solace in a woman named Klara. During the day they would work together to get cash, whether it be through legal routes or otherwise. And at night they’d drink and talk about their past adventures, dreaming up new ones that they would go on when this was all over. If Abby had ever truly felt love, it was with Klara.
The energy of Oslo was growing more and more frustrated as months went on, especially among the homeless. Shelters were overwhelmed with people trying to escape the consequences of breaking curfews and quarantine, and those who were on the streets had to be smart about where they stayed. Abby and Klara set up camp nearly every night in a new spot, eventually finding themselves on the outskirts of the city entirely. They weren’t sure when they arrived in a small neighboring town on the outskirts of Nyheim, but it was only days after that when the transportation ban was instated, and they realized they were stuck there. Luckily enough, they managed to score one single bed within the nearest homeless shelter, one that they shared each night as they tirelessly tried to keep up with how the world was crumbling around them. News channels provided little to no information aside from the same vague narrative. A week later, they both witnessed their first mauling.
The shelter embodied chaos on a good day, but this day was especially unhinged. In the early hours of the morning, a woman got up from her bed and attacked the nearest person she saw. She was dead in minutes, but the damage to the body of her victim made them unrecognizable. Within an hour, the place was evacuated, creating a swarm of panicked individuals who were now without refuge. Small riots ensued over the next few days, and it was clear all organized efforts were beginning to crumble under the pressure of angry citizens. It only worsened as the days went on.
In the early days of October was the day Klara received a call from her brother, stating he was in Oslo. It was then she made the split decision to leave. The only thing left behind was a note tucked within Abby’s sleeping bag, promising her that they would meet again. A few days later, Abby watched with countless others as the flames went up, and any dream of her seeing her lover again died alongside the hundreds that were trapped in that city.
Abby aimlessly followed the crowds until she ended up in Nyheim, awaiting entry. With a lack of spirit and not much else left to lose, she has adopted a “lone wolf” headspace, promising herself to never grow close to another person again. And when the reaper finally comes to lay his claim on her, she can at least say she went down swinging.