A Volatiles Claim

Recollections (NSFW)

art by malewifeaiden on tumblr! dark stuff ahead so have some cool art            

 My dirty hands clamp over my mouth, preventing me from making a noise that would attract the attention of the monster outside. I am hyper-aware of my erratically beating heart which I hope the creature lurking on the other side of the window can't hear. From my small window, I can mostly make out what is happening outside of my home, of my small basement where I'm hiding. One peep, one wrong move that results in a loud noise will surely solidify my fate and result in an instant painful death. How do I know it would be painful? Because of all the sheer chaos that happened today, all the screams of terror and pain that I heard as I was scrambling to leave my school will surely leave me with a ton of trauma. But I can only begin to work through said trauma if I can survive whatever the hell is happening right now.

The window I am peering out of is at the side of my home, but it has a clear view of the next-door neighbor's yard and the street. Said neighbor is currently laying on the floor, her bloodied and mutilated body lies motionless as her teenage daughter crouches beside her. One might think that she is crying over her deceased mother's corpse, but they would be wrong, very wrong. I watch in nauseated horror as her daughter digs into the older female's stomach eating her intestines like cannibalistic spaghetti. She rears her head back and pulls out what I assume are the intestines, then hungrily scarfs them down: a waterfall of blood cascades down her chin and onto her blood-soaked clothes. I have been watching her daugh- the monster chow down on its meal for the past hour, with the mother's wails of pain, long since ceased soon after she was pinned to the ground. Her once lively ocean blue eyes are dull and lifeless, terror and pain forever etched into them... and they were trained on mine since they spotted me. I try to replace the image of her now with one I had of her this morning, waving at me while smiling as my dad drove me to school. Her light pink pants and white blouse are clean and flowing in the wind in my memory compared to now; now they are torn and soaked with her blood.

I take a moment to look away from the grotesque scene and was unfortunately greeted by similar sights all along the street and sidewalk. Friends, family, and even strangers have either been eaten alive or are doing the eating. Not a single human could be seen as they are either hiding or had fled to safer areas. My mother had been paranoid ever since the Harran outbreak, so she spent a good chunk of her life's savings modifying our home in case something similar happened here. And while I would always tease her about it along with my dad whenever we would see said modifications, I silently thank her from the bottom of my heart as I am somewhat safe in our basement. I can only hope they are also safe but some part of me thinks that that is wishful thinking as they work in a nearby city.

Some of the 'upgrades' she had installed were solar panels installed on the roof along with a special generator built into the saferoom. Said room is hidden behind a wall in the basement that could only be opened via a wooden lever that's blended into a support beam above the door. Once pulled, a click would be heard, and the door would be able to be pushed in and locked from the other side. Inside there were small bedrooms with spare clothing, books, and normal things that would be found in the average bedroom. There is a somewhat large open living space that has a kitchen with a very large storage room that resembles a mini store from all the products my mom bought from excessive couponing. From canned goods and toilet paper to medical supplies and medicine she... 'acquired' from work was stocked on the shelves. There was even a bathroom with these water purification tanks that collected rainwater from the roof for cooking and bathing. The bottom line is that we could stay there for many months until we were forced to scour the environment for food. That is if my parents are alive and make their way here.