~Feral~ C.G

Ch. 2

She could hear its panicked bleating. It was so scared, so weak..

it stirred something in her. That giddy excitement beginning to rise. She could feel her 'companions' begin to feel it too. They grew restless, shaking their heads and grumbling. Some starting to move closer to the sound. She looked to her left and noticed one, a woman with dark blonde hair. Hanging in her face in dirty strands. She was wearing a bloodied, torn top. It seemed to be pink, but the years of wear made it bland. She hated the blonde. She always acted like she had some authority of the group, pushing others aside and hissing at them. She assumed that Blonde was like this, even in her human life.

It irked her. Blonde was, to put it lightly. The head bitch. The others always listened, backing off when that shrill noise escaped her mouth. She remembered what happened long ago, when someone pushed Blonde too far. She remembers the blood, the mania..

Once he fell, everyone was on him. Tearing him apart like rabid dogs. But that's just how it went, they'd all turn against each other in a second. It wasn't uncommon for fights to break out. In the heat of the kill, sometimes the excitement became too much. An accidental shove or bite could turn to even more bloodshed. It sickened her, every time it happened she'd move the side. Making sure to avoid getting caught in the scramble.

The group used to be bigger, there was 20 of them. Over the months it turned to 12, some leaving or some being picked off. As much as she didn't like them it was sad. They weren't all bad, some even provided a small sense of company. The last one she remembers was a little girl. What happened to her was beyond sad. She didn't deserve to end how she did..

The girl was always so nice. Shuffling along in the middle of the group. She never growled at anyone, never snapped her teeth. Just kept quiet. She wore a blue dress, the ends of it frayed. And she always carried a small bear with her, something from her previous life. She had long chestnut hair and these big hazel eyes. The others treated her kindly, some even letting her have shares of food. It was how they worked, taking care of the young. When it happened, a deep quiet fell upon them. No one spoke, some refusing to go and hunt.

The day was cold, slightly rainy. Everything was moving about like normal. She remembers that they were in the town, some resting against the ruined cars. It was a quiet day, peace befalling the group. It didn't last long.

The rest was a blur. The crackling was first, then the burning. Everyone around her began to fall.
She remembers tripping, falling to the ground and dragging herself underneath the car she'd been leaning against. Bodies of her group began to fall next to her. Some letting out panicked groans and whines as they tried to get away. Others left mourning the friends and family they had lost. 

Then, there she was. Standing in the open, eyes widened in fear. One of them was approaching her. Its weapon raised in disgust. They didn't understand. They couldn't. She could feel her panic rise as the girl began to extend a hand, a questioning noise coming out of her throat. She tried to move, starting to feel fear. The girl didn't know, she's always been kept away from the danger. How was she supposed to know?

Her mind began to race. Choruses of "no no no" 
flooding it. There was no time. It raised the weapon, bashing it into the girls skull with a loud crack. The girl fell to the ground, her eyes staring blankly. She froze, a choked out noise coming from her throat. The girl was staring.. Staring at her. Then, it raised its foot. Starting to bring it down with force. The last thing she caught was a simple word, but it was spoken with such sadness and confusion..

"Mommy?..."

But it didn't care. No. It only cared about killing them, all of them.

She looked away.