At the early age of 11, Angus felt the force of the flames in front of him. He watched as the flames engulfed his home where he had lived since he was born. Angus felt the urge to cry as his childhood memories rose as embers with the smoke and flickered out into the dark sky, but awe best describes how he felt that night. His mother held him close to her breast as the fire brigade made their appearance. It was already far too late for them to save anything of Angus' home. He knew they were only there to protect the homes around his from burning down too. The firemen expressed how lucky they'd been to escape it in time. Angus did not feel lucky. He hardly felt anything but the warmth reaching out and touching his cheeks.
Angus grew older with a deep rooted distrust in settling down in one place. He found that being anywhere for any lengthy amount of time pushed him to aggression and agitation. His move to Russia was the most out going one he'd made. He didn't find the people there all that interesting so he moved down to Chernarus. What he expected would be different was unknown to even him but he pushed on regardless. It wasn't long till he became rather sick of the place. Though leaving the god forsaken shit hole was seeming to get more difficult. Flights in and out of the place were being delayed and cancelled all the time. He decided to stay put till whatever terrorist/worldly problem blew over. He hated the news so played the situation by ear.
A week or so after hearing of a "plague ravaging the country" he'd stocked up on a reasonable supply of both food and water. He'd made good headway into the forest and set up a tent. He'd seen people go by without disturbing him. He'd had others swing by wanting to share their stories for a free meal. Most of the people he'd seen had promptly fucked off, usually cause he'd told them too, but sometimes cause they didn't like the vibes he was giving off. Though there was one young lad that he met in a small town in the more Northern part of the country who was eager to see where he was staying. Angus decided to give the kid a night with him and a dinner in the hope that maybe it'd give him some sort of 'good karma.' After making a fire for the kid and cooking him a meal Angus told the kid he could sleep in his tent to stay outta the rain. The kid walked out of their camp site as Angus lost himself in the flames in front of him. Both his hands as close as humanly possible to the fire. It wasn't long before Angus had a gun to his back. The kid was armed, and so were his mates. They began to beat Angus at gun point so he practically let them. His last memory of consciousness was watching the kid rummage through his bag, emptying it of all his food and water. When he woke in the morning he was sure they'd broken his rib. He crawled to his bag to search for a bandage or rag to clean himself up, of course it was empty. The rain had completely taken the heat out of the embers in the fire. Angus moved toward his tent, only to notice they'd practically torn the thing to shred with knives. Fuelled with rage Angus was able to pack what he had left and get on. It was over a week till he'd found his next meal and the majority of drinking he'd been doing was out of very dirty ponds.
Angus began to hide from people, following them back to their place of rest and robbing them blind. It was a means of survival that he knew worked. As long as he didn't speak to much his accent wouldn't be a huge problem. He'd never killed or seriously injured somebody until he saw the kid that he'd helped out the weeks prior. The kid was ducking quickly in and out of buildings, out pacing and deceiving the dead ones. Angus was still hurt both physically and emotionally which meant he needed to get ahead of this kid if he were to get a hold of him. The pain in his leg slowed him down a lot but he managed to sneak into a building without too much of a ruckus. There he waited for the kid to enter. The front door creaked slowly and a growl came from outside. The kid burst through the door into the room Angus was in, closely tailed by a zombie clawing at his feet. The kid fell down and was fending the thing off with his feet. Angus stepped over the zombie and drew his knife, putting it down was easy. The kid recognised Angus quickly but shocked Angus with a smile and a light giggle.
"Wow. You survived old man?" He began to climb to his feet. Angus delivered a mighty kick to the kids chest, tumbling him backwards into the bookshelf behind him. The kid groaned in serious pain. Angus moved to the door and closed it.
"Where are your friends?" He asked.
"I don't know!" Said the young guy hastily. Angus moved closer, delivering a right hook straight across the kids jaw. Another cry for pain drew a nearby zombie to the door. "I honestly know nothing I swear!" he repeated. Angus had been a fool once and helped this kid out. He placed his boot on the kids knee and applied about 70% of his body weight. The kid cried out as his leg was in the process of breaking. "Ok! They're in the woods not too far from here! I can take you! Just stop please!" Angus applied more pressure.
"Where are they exactly." He knew he was getting closer to finding the others so he applied more pressure. The scream got louder bringing another hungry mouth to the door.
"It's hard to explain!" He gasped, "Please let me show you." Angus let the pressure off his knee. He bent down to the kids face, moving in very close.
"Tell me where they are, RIGHT NOW!" He yelled grabbing the kid by his collar and lifting him to his feet.
"Just North of here OK! They have a camp with a few tents. I'll give you a compass, I'll draw you a map OK just don't hurt me please." Pleaded the kid. Angus pulled the kids bag off his back and threw it aside. He pushed the kid back into the bookshelf delivering another blow to his jaw, before brandishing his knife. He plunged the knife into the kids shoulder, while covering his mouth. As he removed the blade the kid slide down the bookshelf to the floor, holding his shoulder and groaning. Angus moved to the door.
"I'll be surprised if you survive this." He turned and opened the door. He hid behind it as the angry flesh obsessed men and women pushed past him and into the room where the kid lay. Angus strapped the kids bag to his back and walked out of the building. The kids screams didn't last all that long.
It took him about a day to find the camp site the kid was talking about. The fire gave them away amongst the trees. It was also the reason they didn't see him sneaking up toward them in the dark of the night. He sat quietly in a bush watching. As far as he could tell there were two on guard, one asleep. He drew his silenced pistol and his knife. One of the two spoke in a different language and began to walk towards Angus. He walked practically all the way up to Angus whistling before beginning to piss in the bush Angus was in. Angus reached for his mouth and pulled him into the bush. It was a quiet death. The man sitting by the fire about 20 feet from him didn't even notice. Angus stood, walking slowly to the man by the fire. The man reached for a log and leaned toward the fire when Angus reached him. Angus placed his boot on the mans back and pushed him into the fire. The screams quickly woke up the one guy that was left and he was soon to fly out of the tent with a rifle in hand. Angus put a bullet straight into his chest, sending him tumbling back into the tent. The body wriggled in the tent for a while, before falling still. The man in the fire lost majority of his face almost instantly.