Every song ever written about backstabbing friends and fights.
There were buildings, yes, large buildings. Skyscrapers even.
But they were desolate, empty, forsaken by all hope.
I couldn’t believe it. They’ve gone insane. Completely and utterly insane.
It looked like a bomb tore a chunk out of the side of the nearest skyscraper. The horizon was a barren wasteland, littered with red dust and squatter homes.
Homes that could be filled with murderers, vampires or even innocent people, trying to save the lives of civilians caught in the crossfire.
There was no way to tell. Everyone was an enemy.
I couldn’t speak, looking over the edge of the building was like looking into the abyss of despair. The cavern of forgotten dreams.
The chosen hope of nothingness. Everything that the world tried so hard to build vanished.
Destroyed. Defiled. Desecrated. Devastated.
Nothing is the same as it was, nor will it ever regain it’s previous grandeur. Looking upon this…this contamination, my breath was stilled.
Looking closer I saw that cars were still in the road. Stop lights still flicked and some even changed periodically.
Something went horribly wrong here.
As I open my mouth to hurry everyone along, I saw Tabatha run over to edge. For a split second of pure ecstasy, I thought she was going to throw herself over. But instead, she gagged and vomited.
I cringed and turned away where once again, I was shocked speechless.
Something as simple as a billboard, displayed the most horrible scene. Graphic to the finest detail. Bile rose in my throat but I kept it down.
Joe quickly turned Tabatha away from the billboard and spoke softly into her ear.
Anger fluttered in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that I blamed solely on the image.
Patrick, who came out of the vent last, turned a light shade of green.
I broke the sickened silence, “We need to stop this from happening.” I held my tongue from the rest of my words which would have been, “to me.”
I couldn’t have them turning against me. Leaving me. Not now. Not after this.
There was a growing pool of red ink on the concrete. Like a correcting pen exploded.
The sun was bright but the sky darkened as the vibrant sun began to set, casting an eerie glow on the red rupturing ink.
A soft wind blew, carrying a heavy scent of brimstone, blood and flesh in the air. I couldn’t look away from the carnage.
It could’ve been me.
Exposed. Left to the animals as nutrients.
I couldn’t think about it anymore. I refused to.
“Let’s go.” I said stiffly, “There already dead, nothing we can do about it now aside from join ‘em.”
“Where are we going to go?” Tabatha whined, I couldn’t answered normally to anyone else, but Tabatha makes every goddamn word sound so fucking annoying.
“You’re going to be thrown off that ledge if you don’t quiet the fuck down.”
Tabatha glared and I kept my face neutral but at the same time, I was daring her with my eyes. Screaming, push me one more time bitch.
Tabatha said nothing and turned away, much to my disappointment. I wanted to carry out my promise. I didn’t notice when Pete started moving but I turned quickly when he neared me, ready to attack.
His eyes were hollow, cold.
I’m afraid for Pete. In this world, It’s not the place for him.
He’s too…pure for this place.
“I’ve scouted the building,” Pete said quietly, “There’s no one. No one for miles.”
“That’s strange…” Joe murmured, “The times I wasn’t strung out on something, it seemed like they made such a big deal about security…why do you think that they would lie.”
“To scare us?” Patrick offered, “No one tried to pull anything when we knew it would fail.”
I nodded, giving Patrick credit for his idea. It, surprisingly, wasn’t stupid.
To think, I second guessed having this guy around.
“Good thinking, Trick.” I paused, scanning the world around me, “We need a few things before anything else.”
“Should we split up?” Joe asked.
I wanted to say yes. Just to make things go faster but we don’t know what we’re up against. We don’t know where we are, where too met, who to trust… I wanted to say yes.
But I didn’t.
“No.” I said firmly, “We need to stick together. We need all the brain power we can get.”
“Why?” Patrick asked curiously.
I nodded for Pete to lead the way off the roof and as we were walking, I responded, “Because we’re going on a scavenger hunt.”
We were silent after my words, even though I know they wanted to know what we were looking for.
Oddly enough, getting off the roof was twice as hard as getting up to the roof. If anyone says moving across a tiny slab of concrete across a large building while gripping onto it for dear life was easy, well, I just might kill them.
It is hard as hell.
Luckily, Pete saw a storm drain. He halted the group as he stopped skirting along the wall. Patrick shouted with a loud yelp as he lost and regained his balance. I didn’t have time to think of the others. I needed to get across safely.
“We’re going to slide down this drain,” Pete said quickly, “But it’ll be a very steep, very painful fall.” He paused as he adjusted his position and then continued, “Tuck in your chin, put your head to side and try to land on your ass or side. Keep your knees bent.”
Pete starting to move toward the drain but stopped as I spoke, “Don’t try to stop the fall with your hand or leg. If you break your leg, your ass is staying on that ground. We aren’t slowing down for broken bones.”
Taking a deep breath, Pete slid onto the pipe and gripped the sides with his thighs. At first he tried lowering himself, but seeing that it was getting him nowhere, he tried just sliding down, only to feel a sharp burning in his hands. Once at the end of the pipe, he followed his on instructions as he prepared himself for the fall.
He closed his eyes tightly and fell on top of a few garbage can lids, swearing loudly, he picked himself off the ground and clutched his side, “Son of bitch that hurt like a motherfuc—”
“Pete!” Tabatha called out, “Are you okay?”
I wanted to push her down, honestly I did. What kind of question is that? He’s screaming in pain for fuck’s sake. Pain.
Of course he’s not alright.
But instead of voicing any of these opinions, I slid down the pipe just as Pete had, only this time, instead of feeling the sharp crack of broken ribs, Pete’s warm arms caught me and set me on the ground. There was an ugly grimace on his face but I was appreciative all the same.
I gave him a small smile that lit up his face.
You’d think I was some sort of freaking angel to the boy when I’m actually trying to find the best way to ditch him and this sorry team of misfits.
One by one everyone fell into Pete’s arms and all saw the deepening grimace on his face. Joe offered for Tabatha but Pete firmly shook his head, he was the oldest. He’d handle it.
He could handle it.
Once Patrick came down, everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, especially Pete.
I smirked at him cruelly, “Still want to go save the others.”
His face was neutral but a strange emotion seemed to pour from his being. I couldn’t recognize it.
“What now?” Patrick asked.
“We find guns, knives, anything and everything. Then food and water. And finally a shelter. Although, I have a strange feeling that we will be heading to the sewers or somewhere underground for the shelter.”
“What!” Tabatha exclaimed, “But I thought—“
Pissed off, tired and a general bitchiness, I pushed aside Joe and stood nose to nose with Tabatha, “If you thought that getting out of that hellhole would be the worse of your problems you’ve got another thing coming. We made out without any problems, surprisingly but don’t you think they’ll be after us? Don’t you think that they will want to kill us? There is no happily ever after Tabatha. You aren’t a princess! You are royalty!”
“Shut up!” Tabatha screamed, pushing me in the chest.
My eyebrows rose at first but then, everyone seemed to catch what she’d just done.
She pushed me one step too far.
I took a few paces away from her, much to the surprise of everyone around me, who all were ready to stop me from throttling her.
Tabatha visibly recoiled from me, her face immediately paled and her skin erupted in goosebumps.
She wants to live like a princess when the world burns in hell.
If she wants special treatment. I’ll show her special treatment. Right on her deathbed.
There was silence before I continued,
“Let’s go.” I paused as I started walking toward the road, “Who knows what sort of freaks are out at night.”
The streets were silent aside from the rustling of the dust. The world seemed to come to a standstill in this place. Frozen in some poisonous nightmare that is hell-bent on sucking the soul’s dry of all hope.
You have no defense against it. They call into the soles of your shoes. It’s the feeling that brings the running chill up your spine, the hairs on the back of the neck to stand on end.
We walked like as if we were walking into a battle. Everyone side-by-side, ready to fight to the death. Something that would come so easily to us.
None of us were fighters. We never trained. We aren’t anything but a bunch of twenty-something year olds with our lives ripped away.
We are still children. Lost children in a harsh world where the villains are tougher than the ones in storybooks. Children who do not have a savior of the other world. Children who have no hope, no chance, no choice.
I cleared my throat, breaking the deafening silence, “Start looking for a supermarket or pawn shop, we’ll need guns and food” I ignored their confused faces.
“Is that where we’ll stay?” Joe asked, his eye twitched as he spoke.
“No, we can’t stay there too long…as great as it would be to stay in a place filled with supplies, we’d have to consistently defend it. Just in case someone tried to kill us, like we all know they will.” We continued down the street, letting my words hover in the darkening sky, pausing every now and ago to see if keys were still left in cars.
Most of them were.
Although, there was no gas in any of them.
Silence wrapped around for far too long, Joe sprung up conversation, “Why do you guys think that the humans would’ve just…left like that?”
“Nuclear War?” Patrick suggested.
“No…everything would be destroyed if that happened.” I answered for him.
“Fear of something coming toward them?”
“Why would they leave their cars?”
Unsure of anything, the theories slowed and the conversation ended.
It felt like we’d walked kilometers but it wasn’t that far away. At least twenty or thirty blocks.
Our mission was looking bleak, Pete was starting to slow down and gasp at the pain in his side. Joe twitched from addiction. I was closer to snapping Tabatha’s neck than ever before. And Patrick complained about seeing colorful spots in his vision.
“Just shut the hell up everyone.” I snarled, while pointing outrageously at the blacken sky, “We have to keep moving! There’s nothing we can do right now without weapons or food. We need it more than Pete’s medical attention” I pointed forcefully at Pete, “or your drugs!” I glared at Joe meaningfully.
“If we c-can’t find something soon, then we’ll have to get into one of these buildings, which is probably where our first night will be spent. But we have to k-keep moving. If we stay in this—” I broke off momentarily unable to form the word, “city too long, how easy do you think that those…animals in that hellhole will have find us?”
No one responded.
“Answer me!” I yelled, my voice echoed loudly thorough the silent streets.
Fuck them. If they don’t want to live than that’s fine with me, but there’s no way in hell that I’m just going to stop without some sort of gun with me. I need protection and there’s only so long that I can run on pure hate of those people and the need to kill Tabatha.
Soon, my will is going to run out. And I can’t allow that to happen.
Ignoring everyone else, I picked up the pace. To hell with the rest of them. I’m going to survive this. I don’t care about them anyway, I just want to live. I just want to get to freedom. Me.
No one else.
Sucking in chilling air through my nose and expelling it, I let my eyes dart from building to building, from crack and crevice, from rock to stone, and remains to rubbish.
Nothing. No sign of life whatsoever.
Except…a faint noise. Every inch of my body froze. I held my breath.
“Wha-?” Pete started but I silenced the group quickly.
The noise was hushed and distant. Nonthreatening. Sobs…deep breaths…sobs…
Patrick took a step in the direction of the sound.
“Don’t!” Joe said abruptly. “If video games have taught us anything it’s never succumb to the crying bitch. It’s probably a trap.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stupid but a good point none the less. Just keep going guys.”
“No,” Pete said stubbornly. Taking a step toward Patrick.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Pete for the last goddamn time STOP playing hero!” I yelled but Pete and Patrick were already heading away from Tabatha, Joe, and I.
Great. Leave me with the dumb bitch and the drug addict. Lovely.
I poised my self in a position opportune for darting in the opposite direction, ready for an explosion of some sort.
“Holy shit!” I heard Pete cry and I took off without looking back.
“AUBREY?!” Patrick yelled and I skidded to an immediate halt. “Oh God, Aubrey!” He said as he yanked her out of the stockpile of trash she was lying in.
“Oh hell no!” I yelled to the two boys as I furiously strutted back.
Patrick already had the small trembling girl in his arms, holding her tight and whispering lost “I love you”s in her ear. Disgusting.
“Patrick, NO!” I said, trying to pry the human filth off him. Patrick held on tighter as Pete tried pulling me off whilst in the midst Aubrey seemed dazed.
“Patrick…Pete…Peej…what the fuck you guys?”
“PATRICK LET GO!” I yelled when Pete finally pulled me off the too.
“PJ what the fuck!?” Patrick snarled, fangs bared.
“She’s a fucking human! She left us for dead! Why not do the same for her!?”
“PJ I didn’t do this! Everyone I know is dead! We’re in the same fucking boat!”
“Except you’re not marked for death!” I screamed and ripped myself away from Pete and stalked away.
Defiant against checking to see if anyone else was keeping up. I kept going. Society has fallen and they want to walk slowly. Prolong the chance of torture in this place.
The…toxicity of humans. Their way of twisting the philosophy world into their own meaning. Destroying everything and everyone in their way. Not caring about human life, all human life.
Because humans think “best”.
War, pain, destruction.
That’s the best answer they can come up with.
Using their pernicious lies to influence the world to follow disorder and to destroy whatever good was in the human hearts.
As time passes, every group to ever walk this earth was irradiated (or an attempt to) was placed upon them for being different.
For looking different. Acting differently. Believing something that’s different.
But now. Here we are. The vampires, the wonders, the deviation from the original plan of society. The silence has been broken by the sounds of difference.
The sounds of conformity dying amongst a group.
In their eyes, we must be destroyed. Killed, tortured.
For, we are weak.
My breathing grew heavy, ragged.
For we are going to lie down and take this.
My fist clenched into tiny fists. Unclipped nails digging into my soft, pink flesh. Scarring me. Until I felt a numbing sensation in my right hand.
We are going to let ourselves be destroyed from this earth and let the taint of humans control us and everything we ever worked for.
I began to shake and my vision blurred for a second from rage.
We are going to willingly hand ourselves over to them, for their experiments, for the medicine, for their torture—
From far away, I heard my name being called.
But in the distance, I saw a figure. Staggering around, hobbling.
My vision blurred as clarity was replaced by a rosy halo around my vision. It spurred me on to the fight. So I ran.
But the more I ran, the slower I seem to go. The faster the hobbling figure ran away. The louder the voices behind me came.
I kept moving my legs, but I wasn’t going anyway, I wasn’t seeing anything. The blurred vision overtook me and I couldn’t see anymore.
I couldn’t feel half of my body.
I couldn’t move my right leg, or arm…
But I struggled with my left even as I felt weight upon my chest…
They were taking me, they were going to kill me….
The rest of the group watched as PJ stalked off in front of them, Tabatha snorted, “She’s such an immature little bitch! She thinks that she’s so big and bad but she needs to fix her attitude.”
Joe stopped walking and gripped Tabatha’s arm, tightening it with each pressing word, “No, Tabatha. You need fix yours. She’s the only one of us who is remotely capable of making a plan. So unless you want to go out here and fend for yourself, you should do what she says.”
Tabatha’s eyes filled with tears, of pain. Not from his words, from his grip. She knew he didn’t mean the words he said. He hated PJ, just like she did.
Just like they all did. Except maybe Pete.
She was the only person who openly said anything. She was the strongest one.
“Joe, you’re hurting me.” Tabatha whispered, tugging herself out of his grip.
“You deserve it!” Joe snarled, his eyes were dilated, sweat droplets formulated on the sides of his face.
“Patrick, we need to get him off Tabatha. He has no idea what he’s doing right now.” Pete said quickly, ignoring the sharp pain in his side as he threw his arm around Joe necked, trying to drag him to the ground.
Joe fought against him and continued gripping Tabatha, who felt as if her arm was about to be snapped in two.
“Damn it, Patrick help me!”
Patrick stared on, watching his sister’s agony and he faltered in stepping in. After so long, she’s getting a taste of what she deserves. The pain that he felt while being pushed aside, the pain that gripped his heart is finally coming back to her.
Tabatha cried out as Joe’s grip grew tighter, bruising her arm. Soon, he lost his thought process. He didn’t know what he was reprimanding Tabatha for, all he knew was that there was something he needed.
And he’d get it, even if he had to rip Tabatha limb from limb.
Joe snarled and snapped. But stilled for a quiet second before his jaw went slack. With a crazed look in his eyes as he convulsed underneath Pete’s headlock.
Pete fought to Joe down to the ground, shifting his weight around to pull him. But he quickly gave up that effort as he raised his free arm and with all his might, brought it down on top Joe’s head.
Joe’ did not fall, or pass out, but his grip lessened just enough for Tabatha to pry his hand from off of her.
Patrick silently rejoiced as tears fell down his sister’s cheeks. She should feel completely alone now. Joe is turning on her, regardless of whether or not it was intentional. Patrick smirked evilly, she’s not the center of his world, drugs are.
Patrick watched the look of fear and pain on her face and turned away from Pete, ever the hero. Trying to save Tabatha from herself. From the manifestation of love and wanting in the form of Joseph Trohman.
A boy, who regardless of his past, is now irrevocably addicted to something that is not Tabatha.
Patrick walked away from the struggling three and ran to catch up with PJ, ignoring the yells of his name behind him. A satisfied smile on his face and a twinge of guilt in his heart, he hurried after PJ.
Audrey, in the meantime, stared, dumbstruck at the broken family, eventually following Patrick.
What the fuck had happened to everything? Everyone?
A need to feel wanted filled Patrick’s chest. He would do anything to help her. To rid thw guilt. She was right, she wanted to save him. He just wanted to save Audrey. Another twinge of regret landed on his heart. But he continued walking, because in his firm belief: Hell changes people.
As PJ soon came into view, the first thing Patrick noticed were her jerky movements. Patrick quickly ran towards her, the pretty colors across his eyes, growing in number as he throat begged for water that was not there.
Putting himself on hold, he called PJ’s name, screaming for her as he came closer. Only to see that she was swaying to the left, as she walked. He heard the heaviness of her breathing and then the hurried sharp intake of breath that sounded almost like she was hyperventilating.
“PJ!” Patrick yelled as she fell to the ground, he rushed to her side. He tried to cradle her head in his lap every time he tried to touch her, she convulsed.
“Help!” Patrick screamed to the others, “PJ’s dying!”
Pete kept wrestling with Joe until he heard the end of Patrick’s sentence, the sound evoked a powerful swell of guilt in his chest. The same guilt that overwhelmed him when he killed her the first time.
Did he always have to fail?
With tears in his eyes, he looked at Tabatha, “I can’t…Tabatha, I can’t do this.”
Tabatha looked hysterical, “What do you mean, you can’t do this! Save him, Pete! Let PJ die like she was supposed to!”
“No!” Pete snarled, pulling the thrashing Joe away from her, “You’re on your own right now, Tabby. Please…just…please.”
Pete dropped Joe down on the ground and ran as fast as he could to Patrick and PJ, the pain in his side enough to knock him unconscious. But he kept going, he needed to save his baby sister.
He couldn’t save Andy. That was his fault as well. But he couldn’t handle grieving for both his baby sister and best friend.
It would kill him.
The guilt, the pain.
Madness would surely overtake him.
Pete ran faster and shoved Patrick aside when he reached his baby sister, murmuring apologizes to her as he sat on her stomach and used all his strength the hold down her arms.
Her screamed pierced his heart but it also alerted every living thing that was not indoors in a five-mile radius.
A loud blaring siren went off in the distance, Pete and Patrick looked at each other suddenly, fear in their eyes.
Eh, a little sub par in my opinion. But it’ll do I suppose.
This was hard too. Joesph D:
REVIEWS GOT CUT OFF A-FUCKING-GAIN. I'll answer them with that nifty answer button.