Fortune Favors the Brave

🩸 Chapter Eight: Alexithymia 🩸

⚠️ TW: blades, violence, gore, death, cannibalism, swearing, flames/fire, ⚠️

{A month after the fight with Fern}

I look down at my green Converse. The spider web on the end of my left foot is beginning to fade. Tears well in my eyes. I grab a Sharpie and retrace the wobbly lines. A tear runs down my cheek and drops on my leg. I wipe its trail off with my sleeve and finish the doodle. I sigh as I hop off the counter. I slide my backpack over my shoulder and head for the door, spear in hand. Before I leave, I slide the spear behind me.

I take one last look at the classroom I've grown to love, remembering how it looked before the Dark Days. I take a deep breath and leave.

~~~

I make my way through the hallways, taking in my surroundings, even though I've been here for over two years now. The etchings on the lockers, the faded writing, the chipped paint. I walk past the cafeteria and notice the windows have been shattered. Some even broke. Fuck.

Zombies must have gotten in already.

I draw my spear, just in case, and make my way down the halls. I make it to the Commons and take note of how Fern still isn't there. I stop at the door to the computer lab, Mr. Elrod. I peer through the glass on the door and don't see any movement. I force the door open and look around. The computers are collecting dust from no use. Greasy fingerprints from 4 months ago coat the screens and crumbs from snacks hide in the keyboards.
I walk over to Mr. Elrod's desk. There's a sticky note left on the whiteboard behind it: Don't forget to clean the computers.

Clearly that had been forgotten.

There's movie posters on the walls and doodles on the whiteboards. Some of the rolling cabinets are still pulled out and open, cameras exposed. I look inside, piles of dust collect in the corners. A few cameras are missing and some have shattered lenses. They probably thought that Mr. Elrod would come back and when he didn't, they just fooled around. Breaking cameras, messing with his desk, whatever they could to keep busy. Blood stains the carpet and the smell of rotting flesh fills the air.

I wonder if any of them knew. Knew they would die that day. Knew Mr. Elrod wouldn't come back. Most survivors ended up killing themselves from paranoia and anxiety. It explains the numerous bodies that lie in the cafeteria.

My hand dusts off a computer and it's only then that I notice my chipped, black nail polish. The ends of my nails are brittle and bitten.

A layer of dust comes off the computer screen and onto my sweatshirt sleeve. I bat it off with my other hand and move along. I leave the classroom and make my way down A-Hall. Someone lifted the barrier. I draw my spear as I creep down the hall, my head swiveling in every direction.

I make it to Ms. Ellis' room, A1, and look through the window. The tables are set in place, neatly arranged, like no one has touched them. Popcorn kernels lay shriveled on the ground, due to past classes. I'm guessing she had a free period. I grip the door handle and turn it with a pull. It rattles in place.

It's locked.
I yank on it but it just clatters in place. I glare at it. My foot hits it with a clang. "Asshole," I mutter and walk away, giving it the finger. My eyes scan the walls of the hall as I make my way through the corridor. Art made by students is in shreds, slowly decaying on the walls. My fingers skim the wall, feeling the holes made by push pins. My arm falls back at my side as I venture deeper into the corridor.

I flinch as a noise echoes. I clutch my spear tighter in my hand as I follow the noise. "Cmon, cmon, there's gotta be something in here." The voice seems panicked and afraid, I don't blame them. I approach the classroom labeled A4 and peer inside the open door. A girl ,with long, ginger hair down to her shoulders, is frantically searching through backpacks and totes. I inch closer to her, her back facing me. I aim the spear at her neck. With a sharp throw, I pierce the back of her neck with the blade. She cries out as she falls to her knees, her face frozen in pain. Tears stream down her face in large droplets. Ruby-colored blood leaks from the wound and streaks down her back. I race to my feet. I clutch the spear and jerk out, the wound dispeling more blood. I make direct eye contact with her. Her eyes are an emerald green with a gold rim surrounding her pupils.

"Please," She pleaded, her voice breaking, "Please, don't hurt me." I chuckle deeply. "Hurt you? Oh, honey, I'm going to do much worse than that," I coo. She trembles below me as I straddle her. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"H-Hazel," She croaks. I smile warmly, "Hazel," I say with an edge to my voice. "Hazel." I look her up and down. "You're going to make a divine meal, Hazel." I laugh and plunge the spear into her heart. She intakes a whetted breath, her eyes staring into my soul, like they're trying desperately to find it. They're going to take a while finding something that doesn't exist.

Her face pales as life slowly leaks out of her.

~~~

I rub two pencils together, creating heat. Next to me lay a small pile of pencil shavings I gathered from the pencil sharpeners. There's around a two-foot wide pile of them on the cracked-tile floor. I rub them faster and harder until I get a spark. I drop them into the shavings. Sparks ignite and light the fragments a blaze.

I wait a minute, watching the fire grow.

I grab my stick, a piece of a wooden table, with a chunk of meat on the end, and hover it over the fire. I listen to the crackle and inhale the smoke fumes. The meat sizzles as the flames nip at it.

Hazel smells delicious.

Once the meat is a brownish-burgundy color, I take it off the heat and lay it on a table I cleared the debris off of earlier.

I draw my cleaned spear and slice it through the cooked meat. It's cooked entirely. My mouth waters from the smell.

I slice a piece. I bite into its firm exterior and savor its juicy interior. The taste is similar to pork in a way, the saltiness of it. I relish in its flavor, savoring each bite. I eat around one-third of it and package the rest for traveling.

I drown the flames in some water I gathered before I left and stomp the remaining embers. I look back at Hazel's corpse, she'll probably be turned sooner or later. "Such a shame, a rather pretty girl she was," A voice coos from behind me. My blood turns to ice. "Yknow, she was a lovely girl to have around when she was living." The voice is smooth like silk and alluring. I rise to my feet and face the voice.

She wears a black plaid mini skirt, paired with skull fishnets and black combat boots. She has a cropped, red tank top with a small, black heart embroidered in the middle of her chest. Lace lines the top and bottom. Her skin is golden like a summer tan and her hair is black like midnight, chopped at her waist. "Well don't just stand there and gawk." I blink, re-gaining focus. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Woah woah woah, honey. Don't get your panties in a twist. One query at a time." She flows over to a desk and hops up, crossing her legs neatly, not making a sound. It's probably how she slinked around without me hearing her. "My name is Raelyn, but you could call me Rae, babydoll." I blush slightly at her words, so soothing and sweet. "What I want varies based on what you have to offer," She purrs, glancing at Hazel.

"What do I get out of it?" I grumble - stepping closer to her. She tilts her head, looking me up and down. "Hm, how do you feel about a little touch up, princess?" I glare at her without it realizing it. I catch myself and fix my face.

"Define 'Touch up'." She slips off the table and drifts over to me. She swipes at my hair and rubs at my face, "Some makeup, fix your hair, new clothes," She makes direct eye contact with me. It's only now that I notice her deep brown eyes, almost red in color. Small flecks of silver thrown in.

Her garnet colored lips ticked upwards into a sly smile. "How do you feel about that, love?" She twirls my hair in her elegant fingers, her ruby red nails caressing my split ends. I step back, out of her reach, "You seem to like the color red." She scoffs, "Aren't you Einstein."

Her eyes meet mine in a lethal stare, "So, are you gonna take me up on my offer?"