Friday, September 6, 2013

DWP: The Rebellion

Please DO NOT take anything from any of these posts for any reason.
 TODAY'S PROMPT: Girl being chased around an abandoned complex, for whatever reason you wish it to be abandoned, by a mentally unstable man who has taken up refuge there.


The beating of her heart pumped at an alarming rate and short puffs of breath escaped her lips.  Her lungs burned and her legs ached but she couldn't slow down.  Her life depended on it.

Fighting back tears, she noticed the door with a sign that read ‘Stairwell’ and pushed her feet harder against the pavement.  Pain ripped through her side and she stopped just long enough to grip the doorknob and wrench the solid metal door open.  Rushing inside, she pulled the door back into it’s frame and, taking just a moment to catch her breath, she peeked out of the small window that was etched into the metal.


There was no one there.

He was gone.

Not taking any chances, she backed away from the door.  She continued quickly up the stairs though no where near as fast as she had been running just moments before.  As if the mere thought of running exhausted her body further, she felt the burn in the muscles of her calves.  Her legs shook and she took note of how dry and cottony her mouth felt.  She tried to swallow but found there wasn't enough moisture for her to do so easily.

Continuing up the stairs, she checked the numbers on the doors of each level she passed.  Feeling her strength give out, she listened for any sounds of life.  Hearing nothing, she dropped onto one of the step and sighed.  She felt like bursting into sobs but she knew she had to hold herself together.  She had to find them.  They were her only hope.

Her fingers slipped in the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out a crinkled piece of a fast food wrapper.  She checked and double checked the address scrawled on it and let herself smile in relief.  She was almost there.

Pulling herself to her aching feet, she continued to climb the stairs until she reached the fourth level.  Making sure no one saw her, she slipped into the hallway, the overhead lights mostly broken, leaving trails of glass all over the carpet.  Searching for the right door, she let her guard drop momentarily.  She could feel how close she was.  She prayed silently to herself that they were still holed up in the apartment.

Her stomach growled.  One of them had attacked her right outside the city and as more crowded in, she fought as hard as she could, losing all of her supplies, including her food, water and medical supplies.

Fatigue tore through her body, threatening to break her down once and for all.  She couldn't do this anymore.

Just as she rounded a corner, a pair of strong hands gripped her tightly by the arms and started to pull in the opposite direction, back towards the doorway to the stairs.  With everything left inside, she kicked and flailed her arms wildly.  A few days ago she had been strong, nourished and the man she was now fighting against was fighting by her side.

His body was, anyway.  This wasn't the man she had known.  Thanks to them, he no longer existed.

She fought madly, raging against his body.  All thoughts of sadness about hurting the body of the man wearing the wedding band that matched hers gone completely.  She couldn't afford to hurt for that skin.  It wasn't him anymore.  It was just flesh and bone that tried it’s hardest to take her over.

His fist connected with her face and she felt her lip split open.  Her ears rang as she tried to quickly reassemble herself before he could do any real damage.

He fisted her ponytail, wrapping the dirty strands completely around his hand and jerked her head backwards.  All she could see was the wicked grin that spread across the lips she used to find solace in.  The deep brown eyes that used to comfort her now shown an electric green, to bright to be human.

Before she could react, he pulled a shiny metal object the size of a pen from his pocket and stuck it to her neck.

This was it.  She was going to die today.  She was going to disappear, to cease to exist like everyone she had ever known.

A loud thud reverberated throughout the hallway and she felt herself drop to the floor, her husband’s body landing just a few inches away.  Before she could react, she was lifted up and hefted over someone’s shoulder.

Everything went black.

Everything hurt.  Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, her bottom lip burned and she was so tired, it felt like the weight of the world pushed down on her eyelids.  A rough cloth pressed to her forehead and she moaned.

“Shh… you’re okay.”  Came a soft voice next to her ear.

She forced her eyes open and found baby blue ones looking back at her.  A small girl looking to be about ten grinned at her.

“How long have I been out?”  She asked, barely able to recognize her own voice.  It was rough and her throat ached from dryness.

Instead of answering, the girl ran out of the room, giggling.  A moment later, a large, burly man stepped through the open doorway.

“Samantha said you were awake.”  He said, his voice velvety and deep.


“My daughter.  After we checked to make sure you were okay, she insisted on keeping you company.”

She nodded and sighed.

“Please let her know that I’m very thankful.”  He nodded.  “How long have I been out?”

“You've been asleep for almost two days.”  When he saw her eyes widen, he continued.  “We made sure to monitor your breathing and such to make sure you were okay.  You’re body is exhausted and the rest was much needed.”

She couldn't disagree with what he said, though it was hard to imagine that two days of her life had gone by without her being awake to witness it.  Not that it would have been any better if she had been conscious.

“If you feel up to it, wash up as best as you can.  My wife has laid out some of her clothes that should fit.  Dinner is almost ready.”  Her stomach growled at the mention of food and she forced herself into a sitting position.

“Thank you.” She said softly.  He nodded and left her to her privacy.

She slowly moved towards the basin of water by the bed and began to wash off all the dirt and grime that she could.  The smell of Irish Spring soap filled her nostrils as she lathered it up on the wet washcloth.

Three soft smiles and one large, toothy grin welcomed her as she stepped into the kitchen.

“Sit by me!”  Samantha, the girl with the grin, said, hopping up from the table and pulling out the chair next to hers.

Dinner was simple and easy. There wasn't much a person could make without electricity, but the man’s wife had done her best to feed her family.

As she ate they asked her questions about everything that had happened to her and she answered them.  These were memories that she wished she could forget, but going back to the time before everything went to hell was impossible.

She told them about how it had happened in her small town.  Unbeknownst to her at the time, the takeover was happening in other places as well.  She told them about how everyone she had known, without warning, turned on everyone they loved.  How their electric green eyes lit up when they changed their parents, siblings, lovers and friends.

They had come in the middle of the night without giving anyone an idea that they had arrived. When they came for her and her husband, they ran, hiding out wherever they could, stocking up on supplies when it was possible.

They had met a few more normal humans along the way, people that were fighting to get to the little family she was now having dinner with.  It was with those other people that she and her husband had learned  of a little girl that, miraculously, held the key to their redemption.

She smiled at Samantha and tried to force her tears away as she told them about the man in the hallway, her husband, and how before they’d been able to make it to safety, he had been caught and taken over.  He had become one of them.

After dinner was cleared and the family, save for the man, retreated into the living room, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“It begins tomorrow.”  He said,  the corner of his mouth turning up.  Her eyebrow lifted in question of what he was referring.


(Word Count: 1,452)

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