TW: Blood, gorey scenes in writing
AN:
(I'm srry. FOR THE PLOT!!!!)
...
I'm running. Bring him with you. Don't look back.
We make it to the crumbling stairs of the tall and abandoned building. I feel tugs on the hand I was holding.
Grandpa?
His legs. Those things got his legs.
"Beck. Please-" Crunching. He screams blood curdling screams.
I don't know what to do. How do I help him?
He hands me his revolver. I check the barrel, one bullet. I look at him, realizing. Tears fill my eyes.
"Pull the trigger- P-please I can't handle-" His leg, ripped off, spraying blood everywhere.
The zombies crave more.
The singular bullet in the gun, not enough for the hoard, I aim.
I see his splattered brains over the distorted, fleshy faces. Once human.
I force myself to look away, he's put out of his misery.
Run. Go up the stairs. Block the roof entrance.
Fuck.
My arm-
The zombies bit down. There's no hope for me.
I run up, I block the entrance. I look down at my arm, the bite bleeding.
...
Just spread as much numbing-
Hatchet. My hatchet.
Its a tree, chop it off. It needs to go. Its rotting roots are no good.
The own sounds of bones crushing under my own hatchet. Flesh being ripped away.
My own arm struggles against me. It loses mobility, the cords have been severed.
Its off-
I can't- Don't look. Throw it away.
I can't feel anything. Everything's gushing out. I can't stop the bleeding. I can't. I can't.
Oh god. Please. Please don't do this to me. Please answer my prayers. Just this once.
...............................................................................
I wake up, gasping for air. I grab my arm, Its not there.
The boy startled awake, looking frantically around to find the noise. He grabs me.
Don't scream. Don't scr-
"BECK!" He shakes me, his own eyes as wide as mine.
"Beck, are you okay? Y-you were..." He shakes his head and hugs me tightly.
"Y-you're not a fan of being touched, I know. Just breathe, Its okay."
My breath comes out in shaky gasps, I clutch his body as hard as I can. He's warm. He's alive. I can't help but cry, he hugs tighter.
- 1:23 am -
"...You okay now?" His voice thick with worry. I nod silently, now laying on an old blanket. He rubs my shoulder and I allow him, my body easing into the solid feeling.
"I-" My throat barely manages, unable to speak. He sighs, and he pats the ground for something, until he wraps his blanket around my shoulders.
"It was... oh God." I cover my face with my hand. My jaw trembles, and I take deep breaths.
"...I-I just had a nightmare." I finally say, my voice getting quieter each word. His eyes still shrouded with uneasiness and concern.
"...Was it about your arm?" He asks, quietly. I can barely hear it, but I nod.
- 2:47 am -
Were sitting outside the tent. We're wrapped in blankets. I turn to look at him, and I try to smile, only achieving a grimace.
He turns to look at me, he smiles.
"You doing okay Beck?" He says quietly, his eyes watching for any reaction.
"Mhm."
He looks back at the stars, the night sky filled with constellations.
"Y'know, I never got to know your name, stranger." I turn to look at him, and he looks at me surprised.
"I never told you?"
"Nope."
"Orion." He whispers, looking back at the stars.
Oh my god. I grin widely, and I laugh a little. When I look back at him, he looks confused, and a little hurt.
"You're named after my favorite constellation..." I say, moving my hand off my face to look at him. His expression unreadable but he starts to laugh too.
"Sounds like fate if you ask me." He wiggled his eyebrows and I shove him playfully, we laugh for a while, just us.
He tells me stories of his family, and I tell some stories of mines back at the junkyard. His history and mines.
No one else in this little world, this barrier with just us and the stars. I feel so damn alive.
He yawns and stretches his arms. He looks at me with a soft smile on his face.
"We should probably head back to bed. Its probably, like, 4am right now."
No longer feeling scared, and out of the dopamine haze, I feel tired as fuck.
My brain must've done three rounds of whiskey and spun around twenty times because jeez that was a rollercoaster of pure emotion.
Well, I'm grateful he's here. I don't know how it would've been otherwise.
"I'm happy I found you in the woods Tarzan." I turn to look at him. "And I'm happy I found you crawling in a ransacked car, you little maggot."
We both laugh, laughing as if the world were back to normal. Laughing as if we were just two dudes, in a busy world with kids playing below, the workers working, and families being together.
We crawl back into the tent, too tired and grateful of this feeling, as if we've known each other for years.
I finally get comfortable, and I turn around to rest. I see the silver moonlight gleaming off the metal of my prosthetic arm.
- 9:34 am -
I wake up, stretching. I feel around for my arm and I attach it back on with a few clicks. The bo- Orion stirs in his sleep, waking up not long after.
"You ready to go back?" I ask him, already halfway outside the tent.
"Yep."
YOU ARE READING
Junkyard Bastion
Tiểu Thuyết ChungBeckett is a young man who was abandoned by his parents on the side of the road as an infant, a group called the "Scavengers" took him in. Not long after a mysterious virus spreads, and the reason being unknown. The virus causes almost zombie-like e...
