E.J.’s
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(group member since Dec 27, 2011)
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OMG! Did you read the whole thing?
It very well could be... hmm, i'll look into this.
...Meh, it's a novel by itself. The zombies are completely different.
Oh, lol. I said her mom was dead so I figured it was obvious the only one left was her dad. Oops.
1st suggestion: Crap, I didn't notice that! Danke Schoen!2nd Suggestion: Yes, HE! is with his daughter.
Just copy and paste it here (or write) it in the next comment box. ONLY ROSE CAN POST HERE!
5 COACH BRADY
“…Thank you.”
“Okay you heard the announcement guys. Stay in this gym; I mean it. If I catch any of you leaving, you’re doing five laps around the football field,” Coach Brady said. Then he went left through the opposite gym door and went down the hall to his office.
Along the way he passed a creepy-looking guy who wouldn’t stop groaning, dumbass. Ignoring the minor distraction, he went straight to his office and left the door open. The creepy guy came to the door, nudged it open with his shoulder and shuffled to the coach’s desk.
“Hey buddy! Can I help you?” the coach asked. “I’m a little bit busy right now.” He turned his attention right back to the scores of the golf team from the last meet. John is going to have to do better if he wants to stay Varsity.
The creepy guy walked straight into the coach’s desk and reached over it. “Okay, I don’t know what your problem is, but get the hell away from my desk or I’ll kick your ass.”
The guy kept on reaching over the desk. Coach got pissed, stood up and punched the guy right in his gut. The creepy guy grabbed the coach and dug his teeth directly into the coach’s stringy neck catching the string that held the whistle around his neck. He pushed his teeth in deeper and deeper until they met. Then they ripped out taking a chunk of muscle, vein, and skin with it. The coach fell over onto the floor and gargled the blood in his throat. His hands were gripping at the place where his jugular used to be. Then he got quiet and died.
A minute later he stood up, still gargling blood, and started to stumble toward the gym. He was hungry and needed to be fed.
JORDAN
Swish!
“No wonder you got that basketball scholarship. You’re on fire!” Jamal said.
“Yeah, you’re making us look like crap,” added Michael.
“You don’t need me to make you look like crap,” he joked. “Oh, look it’s coach. The door’s locked again. Someone go let him in.”
Michael went to the door and opened it. “Hey Coach, ‘sup?”
Instead of answering, Coach Brady proceeded to grab Michael’s neck with his strong hands and bite his cheek. Jamal and Jordan turned around when they heard Michael scream. Coach Brady tackled Michael to the ground and started to rip out chunks from Michael’s face. They ran to try to pull the coach off of Michael. Jamal grabbed his left arm and Jordan his right. Coach then swung out and batted Jamal to the corner of the gym by the track and field equipment. Then he swung his other arm and hit Jordan into the opposite corner by the baseball equipment. That was when Jamal noticed the chunk missing out of coach’s neck on the left side. “Dude, I think he’s got Rabies or some shit like that!” Jamal yelled.
Jamal then grabbed a javelin from behind him and ran at coach. He started to beat the coach’s back with it and then stabbed him in the back through the heart. Instead of killing Coach Brady, the javelin broke off. Coach Brady then turned around and launched himself at Jamal. Brady then began to start biting and tearing with his claws into Jamal’s chest. “Get this bastard off of me!”
Jordan looked around where he was and picked up a solid wooden bat. He ran to coach and hefted the bat up. Using all his strength, he brought the bat down unto the coach’s skull. There was a sickening thud and the crack of bone. Brady slumped forward and died. Jamal was still breathing, but his chest was bleeding badly. The bites were shallow, but there were many. He might still survive if Jordan got him to Nurse Barton in time.
Unfortunately for Jamal, Michael had just turned and proceeded to crawl towards him and bite his neck. Jamal might’ve been fine, but Michael hit the jugular and blood poured out from the wound. Jordan thought that Michael must’ve gotten the Rabies and bashed in his head.
Jordan couldn’t believe what he just did. He just bashed in his best friend’s skull and a teacher’s to boot. Then he saw Jamal. His nose started to bleed and blood was still rushing from his neck. Then both of the bleeds slowed and stopped. Jordan thought he had finally died. No such luck for Jordan, Jamal began to crawl towards him and was barking and gnashing his teeth.
Jordan knew there was only one way for Jamal’s pain to end. He hefted the bat one more time and brought it down on his friend’s head. To make sure Jamal couldn’t feel any more pain, he brought it down again and again until all that was left was a bloody pulp. Then he did it again to Michael and Coach Brady. Blood soaked his tank top and his white shoes turned scarlet from the blood. The bat fell from his hands, but he didn’t notice it anymore. His friends were dead and so was Coach.
He fell to his knees and started to breathe heavily with his eyes opened wide and his hands shaking in front of his face. He had just killed people, without regret or guilt. What happened to him?
His face grew stern. Nothing. That’s what freaking happened. They attacked him and he defended. A little voice in the back of his head spoke up, “Jamal was crawling towards you to help him, and Michael never hurt you.”
Jordan spoke out loud, “But they would’ve killed me!”
“How do you know that?” the voice retorted.
“They… they were… uh,” Jordan muttered.
“That’s right,” the voice said. “They didn’t do anything. Maybe they were fine, but now you’ll never know.”
“Shut up!” Jordan put his hands on either side of his head.
“You killed them!” the voice screamed. “You’re a murderer; call the police and lock yourself up!”
“I said shut up!” Jordan put his hands over his ears.
“You can’t block me out!” the voice screamed. “I’m inside of you. I’m the blood and adrenaline pumping through your veins and the nerves that are tingling in your fingertips.”
“I can block you out!” Jordan shouted. “Watch me.”
“You can’t do anything,” the voice whispered. “You are going to die and I’m going to tell you I told you so.”
“When that time comes, then I’ll already know,” Jordan hefted the bat and headed out of the gym doors toward the staircase.
The voice gave out the faintest breath of a whisper, “You are going to die today, Jordan, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Then the voice gave out a chortle of laughter and disappeared behind the door as it closed.
4 MAX
“…Thank you.”
Max was in the chemistry laboratory when the announcement finished. He just kept on mixing the chemicals he was working with for the experiment he missed on Tuesday.
The lab was empty today because they had all gone on a field trip to the local laboratory of Dr. Jakob. He had just finished his experimentation on the Mad Cow Disease Virus to be used as a biological weapon in the newest war against Iran. It would infect anyone who ate the meat of infected cattle and turn them into mindless killing machines. He was still working out the kinks, though, so that the person could be controlled, but so far the experiment was showing to be extremely promising. His first test subject showed a thirty percent increase in strength and ferocity due to the virus, but the downfall was that his intelligence and morality went down by eighty percent who also couldn’t choose between friend and foe. He called this virus the Creutzfeldt - Jakob disease.
Max mixed together hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide, and then he got an idea. He stirred them together more until he was sure they were combined, watched it fizzle a little, and then gulped it down. His mouth twitched a little and he set down the glass. Then he coughed a few times.
“Wow! That’s salty,” Max said. He wrote down in his notebook how the basic and the acid neutralized each other to create salt water. Then he wrote down that if others tried this experiment they would need the exact same amounts of both to neutralize each other. The concentration required was one mol of sodium hydroxide would require an exact same amount of hydrochloric acid to neutralize it to salt and water which have the neutral ph of 7.
There was a thumping at the door, interrupting Max in his thoughts. He set down his pencil and slowly got up. The lab was closed today specifically for him because of the toxicity of the dangerous chemicals he was working with.
Silently he walked to the door and looked out the glass window. Mrs. Paragu, the elderly geography teacher was walking into the door and hitting it with her arms.
“Mrs. Paragu, could you please step away from the door so I can open it for you?” Max said. Upon hearing his voice she began to pound more furiously on the door and start to groan. He didn’t have time for this. He unlocked the door and swung it forward accidentally hitting Mrs. Paragu and knocking her to the floor.
“Holy shit, Mrs. Paragu! I’m sorry. I thought you’d move out of the way when I began to open it,” he bent over to try to help her up. She started to wiggle around on the floor a little and then opened her mouth and showed that three of her teeth were gone. Then she moaned a little and began to try to snap at Max’s ankles.
“Oh my god! Mrs. Paragu, are you all right? Do you want me to get the nurse?” Mrs. Paragu didn’t answer, although Mr. Bixby, the janitor showed up behind her. Instead of helping her up, he stumbled forward toward Max. “Um, Mr. Bixby, Mrs. Paragu is kind of lying on the floor right there,” Mr. Bixby stepped on her back to get in the room. “What is wrong with you people?”
That was when he noticed a large bite taken out of Mr. Bixby’s leg and the fact that Mrs. Paragu had shallow bite marks all over her arms. Neither of them was bleeding though, which made it all the stranger.
They both came towards him, Mrs. Paragu crawling along on her belly and Mr. Bixby limping on his one good leg.
“Stay back! I’m warning you!” he backed up into the lab and hit the table he was working on.
He picked up the first thing he could, the sodium hydroxide. Mr. Bixby was the closest so Max chucked it at his face. The glass shattered and lodged itself in his eyes, his lips, and his cheek. The water mixed with the solution started to eat away at his tissue until it reached the skull. Mr. Bixby didn’t slow down until the hydroxide hit his brain. As his brain was dissolved by the basic solution a gas was given off that made Max gag. Then he fell over and landed on top of Mrs. Paragu. She tried to crawl forward, but the janitor’s weight was too much, no matter how hard she tried.
Max turned around and grabbed the hydrochloric acid. He proceeded to smash it over the head of Mrs. Paragu. This time she stopped moving. The glass lodged in her skull and the acid ate away at hair and skin until it reached her brain. Then she too stopped moving and died.
Max waited in the lab for a few more moments trying to catch his breath and realize what the hell just happened. He had just murdered two of the faculty and not in the most humane way either. He was a killer.
After he caught his breath he rationalized everything. They had started it. He only attacked in self-defense with the few weapons he had. They were crazy. They were trying to attack him. He was fine. He had to get away from the smell of the corpses.
He looked around the room and saw a flash of silver on a counter. It was a small scalpel. He took it, and headed for the door and slowly stuck his head into the hallway. There was no one there. Max left the chemistry laboratory and headed down the hallway towards the stairwell.
3 AMBER
Amber could hear the screams of classmates from the room down the hall, but so could everyone else. She was thinking why no one would help, no one would go to their aid, and then the screams stopped. All was quiet. Then she heard faint sounds in the hall. Shuffling steps and the sounds of thick limbs hitting lockers from wildly flailing limbs and the moaning and groaning of bodies as they slouched towards other rooms. Amber heard the banging of fists upon a door and the sound of splintering wood, the shattering of a window, the screech of a girl, and the scream of a boy. The sound of sloshing liquids and biting and tearing.
All hell broke loose then. The door was flung open and the stampede of students bolted down the hallways towards classrooms, windows, and exits. Women shrieking in fear as they leaped out of windows, cutting themselves on the shattered glass; men pushing and shoving and beating anyone who got in their way of the exit; and the rest of the student body being torn apart by the vicious monsters, cutting themselves on glass, falling unconscious from a punch, a trip, or fear, going through the exit and making it to what they thought to be safety. Maybe it was safe, maybe it wasn’t. Amber didn’t make it that far. She was halfway down the hallway when her heel broke and a student shoved her over and the back of her head hit the lock on one of the lockers. Then she fell, her eyes shut, her breathing slowed, and heartbeat fluttered. She was cast into darkness.
…
Fifteen minutes later her eyes fluttered open. The hall was empty except for a few pools of blood and scarlet splatters across the lockers. She slowly got up, but fell down again because of her broken shoe. Amber broke off the other heel and finished off the first shoe heel; with that out of the way she began to get up again. At least now she could walk around without tripping over herself.
She looked up and down both hallways first before she started to move. There was no one around. Wasn’t the school on lockdown or something? She turned into the nearest classroom, but it was empty.
“Hello?” she called. There was a shuffle at the other end of the hallway. “Is somebody there?”-No answer, just more shuffling and stumbling-“If there’s someone down there, talk to me!”-only more limping and stumbling.
She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew it was bad. The hallway was quiet, but for the shuffling. Where was everybody else? Then it came back to her. The screams, the shuffling, the moaning, the groaning, the blood. Everything. Then the shuffling person turned the corner and she gasped at the horrid sight. There was a female student with her arm missing stumbling around with blood seeping from her mouth, several teeth were missing too. Her eyes were white, no pupils or irises were visible, and her skin had the color of ash and the moon, grey leaning on black. She didn’t speak, she didn’t yell, she just grumbled and groaned.
Amber ran. She didn’t know where to. She just knew that she had to get away, to get away from that horrible sight, but it was plastered in her mind: the grey skin, the blood, the missing arm. She sat down on the floor, put her hands on her ears and just screamed. This was too much for her to handle. All her friends, her peers, probably dead, all dead. Then she looked to her left. The girl with the missing arm had turned her head toward Amber and was now shuffling toward her. Mouth groaning and dripping.
Amber stumbled up to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. She didn’t care where she was going, she could barely see through the tears swelling in her eyes. Then she was falling. She hadn’t watched where she was running and had accidentally slipped in a pile of blood. She fell down and got the wind knocked out of her. A few feet in front of her was Mrs. Wilson with the back of her head missing and crawling towards her. Amber scooted along the floor backwards, but the blood made it difficult. Her entire shirt was doused in blood along with her skirt. Sticky hands tried to push themselves backwards, but the ground was too wet.
Mrs. Wilson crawled closer, and that’s when Amber snapped. She kicked Mrs. Wilson as hard as she could in the face. Mrs. Wilson, already injured by Kris fell to the floor as the last of her brain matter was flung onto the lockers. Mrs. Wilson stirred no more.
Amber scrambled to her feet and stomped on Mrs. Wilson’s head to make sure she was dead. Then she heard a slip behind her. The one-armed girl had gotten closer and slipped on the floor just like Amber. Now she was crawling, trying to get to Amber’s ankle. Amber kicked her in the face and ran away. The girl was still crawling slowly but surely forward, pulling herself along with the lonely arm.
Sprinting, Amber was already down the hallway and making the right turn that would lead to the exit, but she was too late. There were at least a dozen faculty and students stumbling around there. When they heard her footsteps, they all turned to face her and started to shuffle towards her, mouths open and seeping blood while groaning.
Amber turned around to go back the way she came, but the girl was crawling towards her and she had a few more friends with her now. At least seven of them were crawling towards her. She didn’t have a way back or forward so instead she went through another door into the stairwell and went up.
The stairs were clean, no blood or dirt to be seen. She ran up the stairs as much as she could. She ran and ran and ran until the stairs ran out. She looked at the sign posted at the top of the staircase. She was on the fourth floor, the top level of her school.
Maybe everyone up here was fine. Maybe those monsters, infected, whatever the hell they were didn’t get up here. She opened the door and ran down to the end of the hall. So far so good. Then she ran back and looked over the railing down the stairwell. “Shit!” there were three students stumbling very slowly up the stairs. Amber ran back to the other end of the hallway and sat down. She rocked back and forth on her heels and waited for help to arrive.
2 AMBER
“Attention faculty and students! We are in a minor emergency lockdown. All students must return to their classrooms immediately. No one is allowed in the hallways during this time. I repeat; we are in a minor threat lockdown. All students must return to their classrooms immediately. No one is allowed in the halls. All teachers, once students are secured in the classrooms, please lock all entrances and don’t let any unknown or questionable characters in. Thank you.”
Amber speed-walked into Mr. Howerton’s classroom right before he shut his door and took her seat. The class was talking in hushed whispers which reverberated in the math room. “Quiet down, class,” Mr. Howerton bellowed. “You heard them, it’s a MINOR threat. Nothing to be worried about.”
KRIS
“… Thank you.”
Kris walked into school at that exact moment. “Now what the hell is wrong with this place?”-Then he saw some weird guy standing in the hallway-“Hey buddy, you know what the eff is going on?”-No response-“Hey weirdo, what’s your problem? I said what the hell’s going on?”
The man still didn’t turn around. Kris walked up to the man and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”
The man grabbed Kris’s arm and turned around. Then he pulled Kris’s arm up towards his mouth and gnashed his teeth. The teeth plunged into Kris’s arm. Blood seeped from the bite.
“Son of a bitch, let go of me,” Kris struggled to free himself.
“I said, get your freaking teeth out of my arm,” at that moment he punched the man in the face who staggered back a little but didn’t let out a peep. Blood dripped from his mouth as he shuffled toward Kris.
“Get the hell away from me, you freak,” Kris kicked the guy in the crotch, but it didn’t faze him at all. He kept his lumbering gait going straight towards him.
“To hell with this,” Kris gave up on the guy and ran down the hall to his locker. Now that he could see the bite, it didn’t look too bad. It only pierced a little of his forearm and there wasn’t much blood. He grabbed some tissues and dabbed at his arm. Then he calmly walked down the hall to his class. He knocked on the door of Mrs. Wilson, the Spanish teacher. “Hey, Mrs. Wilson, abra la puerta or something like that. Just open the damn door.”
Mrs. Wilson opened the door and glared at him. She looked him up and down from his brown flip-flops, khaki shorts, and Hawaiian shirt to his sandy blond hair and brown hat. “I’ll not have you swearing in my class,”—she ripped the hat off of his head— “and no hats. Understood? Now get in here. It’s a lockdown, you know,” she ushered him inside. “And what happened to your arm? Probably cut it while goofing off in biology again. Can’t you children learn some self-control?”
“Actually some nut job out there bit me. Doesn’t hurt anymore and it stopped bleeding, but still that bastard bit me,” he showed her the bite mark.
“Well, it doesn’t look infected… yet! What is this world coming to nowadays?” she wrapped a bandage around arm and showed him the empty seat next to Christa.
“Hey. Whoa, what happened to your arm?” Christa asked.
“Nothing. Some lunatic in the hallway bit me. Punched him in the face and kicked him in the crotch for it, though.”
…
Fifteen minutes later Kris started to cough and get a bloody nose. “Oh my god, what happened?” Christa whispered.
“I don’t know. Splutter. Could you get me some tissues or something?” he coughed.
Mrs. Wilson came over to his table. “Kris, are you okay? Oh my goodness, who hit you? Your nose is spouting blood and you’re coughing up blood. Oh my god, now your eyes are going bloodshot. What happened? Did you take some sort of drug? Is this an allergic reaction to something you ate?”
“I don’t—“he then proceeded to spit up more blood on Mrs. Wilson.
“Oh my god, you are not well. Someone go get Nurse Barton now. He needs to get to a hospital,” she yelled.
A girl on the other side of the room got up and opened the door. The man on the other side of the door proceeded to grab her and sunk his teeth into her shoulder. His teeth went deep into her flesh and blood spouted from the ruptured artery. He bit her again and again as the students backed away into the corner.
Mrs. Wilson looked around, but she couldn’t see Kris anywhere. Then hands clamped around her throat and she felt a sudden pain on the back of her head.
Kris proceeded to spit out the back of Mrs. Wilson’s scalp onto the floor and start to eat the soft bloody brain matter that was opened up to him. The students screamed and backed away from him directly into the man by the door. Two more students were bitten, and the girl on the floor crawled toward the group and reached out her hand. Her friend reached down to help her up, but instead of helping up she was yanked to the ground and started to be feasted upon by her fallen friend.
Mrs. Wilson lumbered toward them reaching out for help, but no one would touch her. Then her eyes became bloodshot and she shuffled faster, wanting to get a taste of their young fresh bodies. The class was trapped. There was nothing they could do. All thirty students were feasted upon and bitten. No one survived. The massacre had begun.
1 AMBER
It was probably one of the most ordinary mornings before school possible. The sun was hidden by clouds, and the temperature was still frigid from the recent winter. Amber shivered as she looked ahead at the barren street in front of her. The birds weren’t back yet so all outside was quiet, except for the occasional car driving past. These were few and far between since she lived in the middle of nowhere along with her entire state of Wisconsin. That’s right. Wisconsin; not California, not Florida, Wisconsin. One of the coldest states ever, who still couldn’t afford to fix this damn road.
The road was cracked and in need of repair; Amber’s car jumped up every time she hit one of them. Her car was a used black Saturn with one of its headlights smashed in from a former fender bender with a truck, and one of the doors only closed if it was slammed shut. The shocks were shot, and once in a while her car wouldn’t start, but it was all she could afford on a waitress’s salary.
Her life sucked, her job sucked, her school sucked, and as far as all the boys knew, so did she. She didn’t actually do it, but being popular at this school meant being known for the craziest stunt… or the most slutty. Her reputation was completely built on lies, but hey, so was everyone else’s. She knew for a fact that Ashley was still a virgin, but had apparently blown the whole football team after they won a game. This was impossible because her school never won a game.
She pulled into the school parking lot and took a look around for an open spot. As she searched, she saw the woods that surrounded the school was just starting to get green again with new life. Still no bird calls though. Where were they? Normally the birds were back by now.
RRRIIIINNGGG!!!!
That was the bell and once again Amber was late.
“Shit!” she muttered as she ran towards the back door of the school. Sprinting up the steps, she opened the door, walked in, and started to head to her locker.
On the way she caught the snickering glances of her peers and the over-emphasized word of “friends.” She got to her locker and shoved everything inside: her lunch money, purse, and purple back pack included. Then she took out her supplies for math class.
After checking that she had everything, she dashed down the hall to Mr. Howerton’s geometry classroom. The door was closed and his face was towards the marker board. She silently opened the door and snuck to her seat in the back left corner, hoping he wouldn’t turn around. Amber silently closed the door behind her, and started to tip-toe along the back.
Halfway there Mr. Howerton called out, “Late again, Ms. Parker. Go down to the principal’s office now.”
“Please, Mr. Howerton, I promise I’ll never be late again. My dog chewed through my alarm clock cord”-just believe this lie-“and I got up late. I didn’t even have time to do my hair. Can’t you let me off with another warning?”
“No, Ms. Parker, I was quite clear last time you were late that you would go to the principal. Now go!” she had begun to leave. “Oh, and Ms. Parker. If you’re going to lie don’t have a look of guilt as you think something up on the spot. I will be telling the principal this too.”
He turned back to the marker board as Amber left. “Okay now who knows the answer to number-?” The door closed on his voice.
Amber walked down the hall of the first level of her school to the principal’s office. She smiled at the school nurse as she walked past in her American Red Cross outfit, starched white with a red plus on the left breast and the white triangular hat with another red plus on the front. She had short black hair and bright red lipstick on today. She also wore black high heels that boosted her up a few inches. As Amber walked past, she got the faint scent of lavender and chamomile, very calming. If she wasn’t part of the faculty, you could have mistaken her for a student.
Then Amber waved to the school cook, wearing a white apron over his enormous gut. The white fast-food hat on his head was about the same size as a toy boat in an ocean, no lie. He smiled back at her and two of his many chins jiggled in response. If you got to know him, he was actually a pretty cool guy; he even gave her a few free lunches when she had forgotten her money at home throughout the year. Don’t get her wrong, he was extremely disgusting and always smelled of raw meat and blood and his personality far from made up for that. There was no chance for there to be a real friendship.
Amber waited outside the principal’s office for the last kid who was being lectured to be done. A kid with long, greasy, dark hair and emo-like clothing came out with a part of phrase following him that everyone could recognize, “-and don’t let me catch you doing that again.”
Amber knocked on the principal’s door. “Come in,” said a voice from the other side. Amber walked in and saw Principal Marsh behind his desk with his reading glasses on. He was on the older side, around fifty, with a balding head of white hair. He was constantly looking at you as though you were making some sort of trouble or mess he had to clean up, which happened quite often at their school. His blue eyes looked over the report he was reading and then turned towards her. “Take a seat Ms. Parker.”
Amber sat down without saying a word, no greeting, no salutation. She looked around at the office she had been in plenty of times before. The same paintings made by students of the high school. The same picture of the principal and his wife, shockingly enough no kids. Just as dim of lighting as last time too. “I take it you know why you’re down here… again?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s skip the formalities and go straight to the problem. This is the third time you’ve been late this week. You’re bordering on truancy and if I felt the need, I could have you arrested for it, Ms. Parker,” his blues eyes looked into mine.
“I know. It’s just that-“she was cut off.
“No, Ms. Parker. I have had it with your excuses. I have called your mother and all the excuses you’ve made throughout the year to us have been lies. Your dog being sick, your cat breaking its leg, and your alleged case of pneumonia. All lies. Every single one,” he put down the file he was holding. It was hers. Shit.
“I’m sorry Principal Marsh. I promise I’ll get to school on time for the rest of the year,” Amber pleaded.
“I’m sorry; too Ms. Parker, but you have left me with no choice. I’m afraid that if a single more day of school is missed, then you will repeat the 11th grade. As for now, you have a week of detention starting today,” he swiveled his chair so his back was to her. “You are excused, Ms. Parker.”
Amber left the dimly lit room sniffling, but the moment she was in the hall her face went back to its normal state of boredom and she whispered under her breath, “Shit.”
She nodded to the secretary, Ms. Beak, in the waiting room and left, bumping into Mr. Rather, the psychology teacher. He always gave her the creeps, but she just smiled and said good morning.
She decided to make a quick stop at her locker. She hadn’t actually had time to do her hair that morning and decided to give it a quick brush. When she got to her locker she saw that a man wearing a suit was banging on the door. His face was really pale, but she was in no mood to let a stranger in or tell anyone so she brushed her hair a little and left. She did a quick double take and saw that the man was gone. Good riddance!
MR. RATHER
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Marsh,” Mr. Rather said as he knocked on the door.
“Ah, yes, another person to lecture,” Mr. Marsh swiveled back around. “It has come to our attention that you have been giving out capital punishment to the students which is strictly against the teacher code of conduct.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Marsh. My authority was in question so I felt the need to reinstate it to everyone,” he pleaded.
“Be that as it may, Mr. Rather, we do not condone slapping our students in the face outside of the school grounds, nor do we condone you hitting any member of the faculty or student body for that matter. No matter how bratty they are to you, just remember that you are an adult and should act like one,” Mr. Marsh lectured.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Marsh. It will never happen again,” he said.
“It better not, or you’re going to get a lawsuit on your hands, and this institution of learning will not back you up. You’re just lucky that this time you have witnesses that say the kid pushed you first,” Mr. Marsh pointed his finger at him. “You have been warned Mr. Rather. If I have to call you back here again for abusive behavior, I will personally kick your ass out of this school. Are we clear Mr. Rather?”
“Yes, Mr. Marsh, of course, Mr. Marsh,” Mr. Rather muttered.
“Now go back to your class and do what you’re supposed to. Teach these young minds to grow and prosper. Is that understood?” he bellowed.
“Yes, Mr. Marsh,” Mr. Rather said.
“Good, I’m glad we had this little talk,” Mr. Marsh said. “Oh, and by the way Mr. Rather, have a wonderful day.”
“Of course, Mr. Marsh,” Mr. Rather said as he walked out of Mr. Marsh’s office.
Once Mr. Rather was alone in the hallway he breathed heavily and spoke curses underneath his breath. He punched a locker while calling Mr. Marsh a bastard. “Who does that scrawny weakling think he is? Pushing me around like that! That kid deserved twice what I gave him.”
He composed himself and walked down the hallway into his classroom and closed the door quickly and quietly. “Good morning class.”
“Good morning, Mr. Rather,” they mimicked back in unison.
Depths of Madness
On Friday, April 13th, 2014 a journal was discovered near a dried pool of blood on the concrete near a school. The first pages were stained with blood and became indecipherable. All that is legible is re-printed here.
February 6th, 2013
It’s been six days since I last saw the horde of infected coming for me. Perhaps this time I’ve truly found a safe place for me and my daughter to live, away from those infected monsters. There are other survivors here, but no one appears to be in charge. I hope they’ll let us stay with them.
Robin hasn’t left my side. I don’t know what I’d do without my little girl…
February 7th, 2013
They appear to not mind us joining them, although a few of the people brought up the food question. There were two new mouths to feed and no one wanted to give up their share. I agreed to go out and get food for us. They agreed, but wouldn’t offer me any protection; if I wanted us to eat, I’d have to get it myself.
Robin doesn’t want me to go out and get food. She doesn’t understand that we’d starve if I didn’t. I don’t want to leave her either, but I have to.
February 8th, 2013
I went out today to look for food. I didn’t see any of the infected, nor did I see any survivors. The quiet is beginning to get to me. Cars should be speeding past, and people should be shouting to be heard over the roar of traffic; this was Chicago, damn it!
Yet, there were no speeding cars, just a few crashed into light posts with broken glass and blood littering the road from where the infected would pull them away to be feasted upon. The blood was dry. No one had been here recently. I hurried to the nearest gas station and plundered a few days worth of food. I told no one about the station full of food. It was a secret for my family.
February 11th, 2013
The last few days have been rather boring… a surprisingly good thing. There were still no infected spotted, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. I have to be careful, but I also have to hunt for more food from the gas station. There was another car this time. Where it came from I didn’t know, but there was a fresher blood trail leading from it to an apartment building across the street. I quickly gathered the supplies I needed and sprinted back to the school. I had enough food for a few more days.
February 13th, 2013
Robin has recently taken ill. She’s been shoved into one of the classrooms so that the disease doesn’t spread to all the younger children there. When she asked me why she had to be away from the others, I reminded her she was sick. She asked if she was like the others outside. I was surprised that she’d ask such a thing. No, of course you aren’t, I had answered. She believed me. I hoped it was true; I hoped to God it was true…
February 14th, 2013
I have to go out looking for food again tomorrow. There isn’t enough to last us after then. I don’t want to, but I have to.
Robin has taken a turn for the worse: her fever spiked higher than ever and she’s had difficulty breathing as of late… I hope to God that it’s just pneumonia and not “The Infection.” I don’t want to leave her side. I slept near her last night and heard her wheezing and coughing something terrible. I don’t want to leave her side, but I have to…
February 15th, 2013
Today when I went out, they were there. They saw me and chased me into the gas station where I had stolen my food before. The bag I carried with me was filled to the brim, and I didn’t know whether to take it with me or to leave it here. If I took it with me, it would slow me down, but if I left it, then this whole thing would be for nothing. I decided to take it with me. That was my grave mistake.
I had snuck out the back of the store while the infected bombarded the front of it. It was filled with too much food and a can fell out onto the street. It created a loud clatter that made me shudder. I looked at the infected and saw them watching me. I ran.
A guttural roar followed me down the road to the school as I sprinted. The harness on my bag tore, dropping cans and smashing jars onto the street. Their feet padded loudly after me. I didn’t look back, knowing how close they were. The school was right there, but I couldn’t lead them back to Robin so I took refuge in an old factory. It broke my heart… Robin would have to sleep alone tonight.
February 16th, 2013
I didn’t sleep last night because I was worried that they would find me. I had hidden in a closet, alone, scared, wondering if the people in the school were okay, if Robin was getting better or worse. I don’t even know if she slept that night.
At around mid-day, I realized that there were no sounds from the other side of the closet door. I peeked through the slats of the closet. There was nothing out there. I slowly opened the door… still nothing. I got out and raced to the school, my bag of food left farther back on the street near the gas station where it had fallen. I needed to see Robin, to make sure she was okay.
I raced back to the school, hoping, pleading with God that she was alive. I turned the corner and saw a horde of infected scratching at the glass doors, begging to be let in, searching for their next meal. They didn’t notice me as I backed away slowly and silently. Seeing this, my gut twisted into a knot. The moaning call of the sick exacerbated the pain in my stomach. I needed to get to Robin.
I crept silently and quickly around the school to see if there was an open entrance. The gym teacher was lying near one of the doors, his mangled face torn to shreds by the infected. I didn’t know if he was one of them, but I had to take the chance. I gave the body a wide berth, keeping as far away as possible. It twitched.
I opened the door only to have my leg get grabbed by the corpse. His teeth sunk deep into my ankle as I lashed out with my other leg, kicking him squarely in the jaw. I sprinted through the school. I ran into the room where Robin was quarantined. It was empty. She was gone…
February 27th, 2013
I still haven’t seen Robin yet after the assault on the school two weeks ago. I’m slowly losing my mind. I can’t stop thinking about her; her blonde hair in the pigtails she always wore, the glasses that were always askew upon her nose, and the yellow raincoat we bought her at Goodwill…
As I think about her blond hair, I remember her mother, Hazel, who had the same corn-colored hair, the same black spectacles that hung off the end of her nose… I miss her so.
I should stop thinking about my family, but they just keep coming back. My son, my dearest son, is dead. I miss Jack so much that I am starting to choke up now as I write. He was the spitting image of me; hair the color of honey, long and lanky limbs, and always a smile, even when sad… always a smile.
February 28st, 2013
Robin still hasn’t shown up. The bite on my ankle has swollen from the infection. I don’t know how much longer I have ‘til I turn. I just want to see her, one last time.
March 2nd, 2013
No Robin. It’s been getting harder and harder to write these entries. My hands are starting to refuse the pen. My mind is getting foggy and memories keep flying away from me like wisps of smoke. I cannot catch them. The only thing I remember is Robin and what happened to my family on that dreadful day this epidemic began. They were in the living room at the time the infected came to our door… I was with Robin in her room. They screamed… oh, how they screamed! It tore my heart out when I saw them being attacked. I tried to help, but it was too late… they were infected, and I had to keep Robin safe from them…
I must find Robin.
March 3rd, 2013
I thought I saw her today. I thought I saw a flash of the yellow raincoat she used to wear, but I know this can’t be true because she didn’t take it with her. It’s still at our house with Hazel and Jack...
March 4th, 2013
(The writing here is pretty much indecipherable besides a few choice words, most of which involve Robin.)
Robin… find… Robin… must… find… infected… dead.
March 6th, 2013
I think she is dead, and if she is not, then she soon will be. If I find her, I don’t know if I can control myself. I’ve slipped into the infection, into madness, and can probably never get out again. This hunger, this insatiable hunger that I feel within me. It never leaves, it never sleeps! It just makes me want to compulsively eat and no matter what I eat I still feel hungry… (Indecipherable after this point).
March 7th, 2013
(A few water stains in the center of this entry make it indecipherable after a point)
It has happened. I finally sated my hunger, but I want to die for what I ate. I can’t believe I did it, but the flesh was so soft and easy to chew. The fat dribbled down my face. I am ashamed to even mention this, although at this moment my mouth is drooling…
... can’t find Robin. I must never find her. I worry what will happen if I do find her. I must get rid of this problem, once and for all.
March 8th, 2013
Today is the day. I’ve decided to finish it once and for all. I can’t go on living like this, a cannibalistic predator feasting on the flesh of the innocent. I shall go to the roof now. If anyone should happen to find this, tell Robin I love her and always will…
(This is the final entry. The rest of the pages are blank).
Okay, 77 people invited!
So legit novels or short stories or both...?Novel: The Student Body
Short Story: Depths of Madness
Hello... person? Thought there would be more.
