Ok, so my friend wrote a short fanfic about a guy during the first outbreak. His girlfriend liked it(now his wife), so she wrote on as the mans wife. I liked them both, so i wrote one that tied me into both their stories. in the end, we loved how it turned out! and planned to do more like it. Like, one person start one, and next person does hers, then the third. well, hope u like it!
Part 1: Josh
Part 2: Brenna
Part 3: Me! Seth Miller
I could only stand there, in a terrible grip of fear. I could only watch as the woman fought for her very breath. A crowd had gathered after the sound of groceries falling to the ground attracted their attention. I was walking right past her as it happened, in a crowded square, and I now stood beside her as she sat on her hands and knees coughing up blood that was almost black in color. While puking her insides out onto the cement, she was violently screaming and shaking. She dug her nails into the cement, cracking them and tearing them. Her face was turning pale, bright colored veins pulsing noticeably. We could only stare.
None of us noticed the truck come to a screeching halt nearby. Our minds were taken by the screams and unintelligeble pleas of the lady on display. A team of men in biohazard suits broke their way through the crowd and reached for the woman on her knees. The lady suddenly stood up, swaying slightly. The men reached for her arm, but she lunged forward, attacking the men in the full-body suits. I had the unfortunate oppurtunity to gaze into her eyes, her empty, yet pain filled eyes. They were animal eyes, wide and full of rage. The men grappled with her, and the crowd backed away a few steps as the blood began to fly. The lady was not so much screaming as she was raging, howling and fighting violently. The lady disappeared into the back of the truck nonetheless. Yet the crowd did not disperse. We still could not move, or think. Were it not for the police coming in to clear up the area, we might have remained there, staring at the bloody remnants of that poor lady, for eternity.
How does one sleep with such a sight permanently burned into their mind? Such a violent, painful death she recieved, if that is waht she recieved at all. Yet sleep I did, a fitfull sleep, full of pain and screaming. I woke up sweating, unable to breath. My wife finally managed to calm me down.
I stared at my wife as she prepared breakfeast. She was a beautiful woman, and I'd had a habit of staring at her since I had first met her in highschool. She moved gracefully through the kitchen, the product of years of experience. She'd been making breakfeast for our children before school for four years now. But even such experience can prove unavailing. The family cat jumped down from the counter in between her legs, nearly tripping her. She managed to keep her balance, but she dropped the dish she was carrying. The clatter the dish made as it hit the floor sent my heart racing. I stood up, and watched as my wife bent down, getting on her hands and knees to reach under the table for the pieces to the dish. I wanted to scream out, to warn her, to tell her to get up. But I could not move. I could not plead for her safety. My head was rushing with blood, and my heart was aching. I was read to faint. The memory shot through my mind, paralyzing me with fear. I was watching the lady in the square again, crying and screaming, suffereing from agonizing, unbelievable pain. The lady slowly stood up, and turned to look at me. I stared into her eyes, those angry eyes. She stepped toward me. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. The lady reached her hand out, taking a few steps more. The bloody hand gripped my shoulder, shaking it. "Honey! Honey! Are you alright?" I blinked my eyes, and the vision cleared away, and standing before me was my beautiful wife. My heart settled down, and I fell back into my chair. "I'm fine."
How can you explain to someone you love what happened that day? How can you pass such a burden on to someone so important to you? I did not know if she'd heard about it in the news. If so, she had said nothing about it. I could not tell her what was wrong with me. I could not hurt her in the same way I was hurting. So I said nothing, and I sent her away worried.
I sat at the desk in my office, pouring over the article in the newspaper, trying to figure our what was haunting me. "An unexplained virus," it said. "A tragic event." Tragic. It was more than tragic. It was devastating. Not only to the woman who experienced it, but to all those who saw it.
"Sir? Your wifes on line 5." "Thank you," I told the secretary. I picked up the phone. "Hello..."
"Hi, honey. I'm picking up the kids from school. They have an appointment with Doctor Springs. I should be home around 5:00." "That's fine," I said. There was silence for a moment, then she continued: "Are you sure you're o.k.?"
At 3:30 I picked up the paper again, and tried to finish the article. "Witnesses provide details..." They were the lucky ones. They didn't have to worry about ruining other people's lives just by sharing their memory. They obviously had no one to keep it secret from. "Related to the deaths..." Related deaths? A laboratory mysteriously shut down, a hospital reports similar victims, reports of savage violence in nearby neighborhoods, the neighborhoods near my children's school!
"Sir? Theres a man on line 3 wanting to speak with you."
I rushed into the gymnasium, and I nearly collapsed. Surrounding me were hundreds of body bags, child-sized body bags, with a few for adults. Men and women walked through the gymnaisium with clipboards and solemn faces. A large man in a dark suit walked toward me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and tried to look into my eyes. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. I fell to my knees. I searched the body bags from that spot, hunting for the ones that might hold my family. The white bags were stained with blood, covered with identification tags that I was too far away to read. And I did not want to read them. I could not read them. I could not accept that my family was now gone, due to a virus no one knew about, one that caused the most agonizing death we might ever know. I looked at the other faces in the room. Husbands and wives held onto each other, crying, squeezing each others hands for support. Older children, from highschool, accompanied some families. These children hugged their parents, hoping to hide their sadness, their fear. And their parents soothed them, or tried to. I had no one to sooth, and no one who could sooth me. I was alone.
I stood in front of the hospital. A line stretched out into the streets, if you could call it a line. It looked more like a mob. Policemen surrounded a crowd of terrified families, hoping for a cure, something that might save them, or their loved ones. Small children clung to their parents legs, crying. Family members exchanged goodbye's, fearing that soon the end would arrive. The crowd was trying to force their way inside the already crowded hospital, but they were held back. The mob became more violent, and the police were forced to intervene. The crowds attention was diverted to a lone child near the street, screaming and shaking and crying, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. The police opened fire, causing panic among the crowd. Another ran into the crowd from behind, spewing blood from his mouth onto any who were close enough. Even more began to charge out of the hospital. The police could not tell where they would pop up next, so they tried to shoot everyone. The screaming of the victims nearly overpowered the sound of the gunfire. I heard a single voice cry out: "Infected! Run!" Perhaps this freed the fear-struck minds of the crowd, because they surged forward, trying to escape to their homes. I was caught in the midst of the crowd, and was forced to run with them . Any people in the front of the paniced mob who were not faster than those behind were trampled and left to die. I made it into a small store that had not been locked up when the owner left. Papers and food were strewn all about. I pulled down the metal gate and shut the door. I stood there, trying to catch my breath, hoping that no one outside would hear my breathing. I leaned back against the door. The support felt so good that I let myself slide down to the ground. After a few moments I reached for a newspaper that was lying next to me. One of the main, though now quite brief, articles read: "Despite all our plans and contingencies, the virus has spread." I chuckled slightly. Almost as fast as the fear of it.
Ever since he came home yesterday, his mind was somewhere else. She knew when something was troubling him. But she decided not to press it, and went downstairs to make breakfast for the kids. After all the years she had adjusted to this new kitchen there was always a surprise for her. The cat nearly sent her to the floor, but her balance saved her, though not the dish. She bent down to pick up the pieces before the kids walked in and cut themselves. As she stood up to throw away the pieces she heard her husband panting, with his eyes closed, and sweat dripping down his face. She dropped all the pieces to the floor and shook his shoulder. "Honey! Honey! Are you alright?" After a few seconds he opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Then he muttered, "I'm fine."
Later that day she hopped into her car to go pick up the kids from the school/daycare center. She had left work early because they had a doctors appointment. Usually they head to the after school program at school. She called her husband to remind him of their whereabouts.
"Hi, honey. I'm picking up the kids from school. They have an appointment with Doctor Springs. I should be home around 5:00."
"That's fine," he said. She wondered if he would continue, but he did not. She asked him, "Are you sure you're o.k.?"
She turned onto the street of the school. There was something wrong...some kind of riot. there were bodies on the street and people fighting each other on the sidewalks across the school yard.
Before she let herself panic she tried to think of a logical way to get to her kids. I have to get to them, I have to.. played over and over in her mind. She decided to go around to the back of the school and pulled the car all the way to the back door. She hopped out and tried to open it, but it was locked. She banged on it as loud as she dared to, and soon a janitor opened the door.
"I need...my kids..." The janitor let her inside.
It was difficult to find her children. All kids had been sent to the cafeteria which doubled as a safe house, because of the bad area. They were letting parents take their children, but there was no order. After probably a half hour she got her children and headed back to the back door, carrying on her hip and the other's hand tightly gripping her free one.
"Kids, we need to be careful...and quiet!" The little one put a finger over his mouth to imitate the action she had requested. Letting go of her daughters hand so she could open the door, she peered outside. No one was there. She rushed outside, both children near, and ushered them into the backseat.
"Buckle your little brother in, we've got to go quick."
The eldest did as told and she walked around to the front of the car and started the engine.
They were back on the road and heading toward her husbands work. It seemed safer than their home, which was not far off from the school.
The children were safe, and they were on the road - everything was home free - and then it hit. A black truck rammed into the passenger side of their car and sent their car spinning and then head first into a tree trunk. She had no time to think - The little one was bloodied but crying, which meant he was alive. The older one was unharmed. She herself had a cut on her forhead. She grabbed her purse and jumped out, opening the passenger seat. The held both of them, for the older one too started crying. For all her frailty, she ran with surprising speed, carrying two children, one on her back, the other in her arms.
But she could not run fast enough.
A man ran up beside her, grabbing her waist and knocking her over. She skillfully rolled her younger child away and yelled at the other to run. She hit the man with all her strength, in places she had been taught to hit, but nothing seemed to daze him except a blow to the head. By now the baby went from crying to screaming, and it caught his attention.
"No! No!!!" She screamed, holding him back, hitting him, pushing him, trying to keep him away from her baby. But then another man came up from behind her. She felt pain - or rather, she didn't feel it, but she knew it was there, in her neck. But watching her son being torn apart, while hearing her daughters screams in the background...She reached back and grabbed the attackers head, and with a quick rush, managed to break his neck in her desperation. She took off running toward her daughter, toward her son, in fact, she was hardly moving at all.
And then felt a bullet in her chest. Blood began to well up in her throat and poor out of her mouth. She looked up, but saw nothing.
Then she hit the ground.
The vomit came up violently, spewing out in front of me. It was a testament to the gruesome sight in front of them that no one cared, or even looked at me. There was still blood on the sidewalk where the woman used to be, and the van was just taking off. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, and slowly walked back to my car. All the way home I could still hear her screams as i pulled into the driveway, could still smell the blood as i cooked a TV dinner, could even feel the rage of the woman as I lay down in my bed. I couldn't close my eyes, because all i could see was her face, and blood red eyes. I couldn't keep them open because even then all i could see was her face.
The alarm clock goes off, and I just lay there looking at it, surprised. No sleep tonight. My body moved mechanical, dressing and feeding itself. After a shower, i feel a little better, the memory still there but not as strong. I climb into my truck and head to the school, where i am a janitor. The day seems normal, children playing and laughing. The site cheered me up a little, and got to work.
There was a fight in the schoolyard, a couple kids got hurt pretty bad. I was told that men in bio hazard suits came and quickly picked up all the children involved, taking them away. I could see that the teacher was clearly shaken by what she saw, and the image of last night came to mind. It's happening again, here. The intercom comes on, and the Principle announces that all the children must be brought to the cafeteria.
12:45, this place is a madhouse. It started at lunch. children attacking children, eating them. their eyes were the same as the woman's, the growls, grunts, and screams seemed unnatural. We were able to get most of the children to the cafeteria, but there were many more still out there. My heart leaps into my throat as I heard a pounding nouse behind me, I spun around, mop poised at the ready, with dried blood already on the handle. But the pounding was nt harsh, ragefull, so I slowly open the door.
"I need....my kids...." the woman at the door said. After she walked in, i walked out. This was not my place, not my fight. I would go get the police. Yea, that's what I'll do. As i head across the yard there was fighting everywhere, bodies laying mangled, blood everywhere. A young boy, maybe only 8 years old, looks up from the body of the vice principle of the school, straight into my eyes. There was nothing human left. I sprinted to my truck, locking myself in as the kid threw himself at the window. My eyes widen in shock as he threw up pitch black blood on the window, and beat at it with all his might. I sit there for a little while, in shock, as i look out my windows. Death. Turmoil. What the hell is going on in this world? A crack in the window brought me back, and I started the engine and took off. I took a side road detour, but it ended up being blocked off, so i turned back around. I knew i was speeding, but who cared?
Then it hit. A small car drove in front of me, and i crashed full on into it. I struggled to get the truck back under control, but a swerve lifted it too far, and it crashed onto its side. I stumbled out onto the road, then scream in pain as an old man leaped onto me and bit into my shoulder. Grabbing his arm, i threw him off and slammed his head into the pavement. My breath starts coming shorter, its hard to breathe. I see the woman from before running with her children, and a man running toward her. My vision gets blurry, red. I shake my head, and double over as a sharp pain hits my stomach. visions getting red, like blood. The woman is fighting the man, and i stumble towards her. Blood. Rage. I gag as blood coughs up, my muscles start to twitch, yet all i can focus on is the woman. Blood. Kill. There was a baby in the womans arms, crying. Shut it up, shut it up, SHUT IT UP! My vision turns completely red, i reach the woman. blood. Tear. Why wont she shut it up? Her neck. Blood. Warm blood, her blood, running down my chin. Her hands on my head? Kill................
Friendship is like peeing on urself,every1 can see it but u get the warm feeling
waaaa thnx for sharing
was really cool, I enjoyed reading it
thx for reading I plan to make a forum or group or something to do more writing like this, if you're interested.
Friendship is like peeing on urself,every1 can see it but u get the warm feeling
yeah sure I added you as buddy so tell me when u've written something and i'd love to read it