Alive

7

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~~~~~~⚫️Chapter 7⚫️~~~~~~
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I trudged forward, each step slow and hesitant, as if my mind couldn't quite grasp that my legs were still attached, still carrying me forward. My thoughts swirled, fractured and fragmented, as I tried to grab hold of anything that could make sense of what I was seeing, what I was feeling. I searched for memories, images of where I'd been before I woke up on that riverbank covered in black goo, but every time I reached out in my mind, all I could feel was a thick, murky darkness.

I knew my name—Aisha—but beyond that, it was all a blur. Frustration and panic clawed at me as I dug deeper, desperately trying to remember something, anything. The last thing I could picture was... was what? My life, my home, people I knew? Faces flashed before me, but they were vague, like smudged ink on a page, just out of focus. I gritted my teeth, clutching at my temples as a pounding ache spread behind my eyes, the memories slipping away the harder I tried to hold on.

The forest around me was still, eerily quiet except for the rustling of those twisted branches. It felt like I was being watched, yet whenever I glanced over my shoulder, I saw nothing but the dark, malformed trees, their limbs reaching out like bony fingers. The air was thick, filled with a damp, rotten stench that clung to the back of my throat. I shivered, my hands gripping my arms as I forced myself to keep moving. This forest felt alive in all the wrong ways, like it was aware of me, waiting to see what I would do.

Just as I was beginning to think I was alone in this place, I stumbled, my bare foot catching on something that felt solid and out of place. I glanced down, heart thudding, to see what had tripped me, and froze.

It was a skeleton.

Its hollow eye sockets stared up at me, as if accusing me for disturbing its rest, its bony fingers stretched out, frozen mid-crawl. I staggered back, a strangled gasp slipping from my lips, the sight so shocking and grotesque that it seemed to root me in place. My mind screamed at me to run, but I couldn't move, couldn't tear my gaze away from the empty sockets, the twisted, broken ribcage half-buried in the black sludge. The bones were covered in dried, cracked blood, and bits of decayed flesh still clung to them, barely recognizable as human.

And then something snapped inside me, a primal urge, the need to escape overriding everything else. I bolted, tearing through the forest with a speed that sent branches whipping against my skin, the black ooze splattering around me as I pushed myself faster and faster. I didn't know where I was going—only that I had to get away from whatever horror I'd stumbled across. My mind was screaming, my breath ragged, and my heart pounded with a ferocity that felt like it might burst out of my chest.

I ran until the twisted trees began to thin out, and the forest opened up, revealing the outline of a city in the distance. Relief washed over me—civilization, safety. But as I drew closer, my relief turned to dread.

The city was overrun, a nightmare in itself. Dark, twisted vines covered the buildings, black ooze seeping from the cracks in the walls like blood from an open wound. The streets were stained, splattered with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood, smeared over the cobblestones, dripping down the sides of buildings. Windows were shattered, doors broken and hanging off their hinges, and everything was coated in that same black substance I'd vomited up earlier, like the city had been infected, corrupted by whatever monstrous force had created this world.

I came to a halt, breathing hard, staring in horror at the abandoned, desecrated place. It was silent, eerily so, and that only made my heartbeat louder in my ears. Every instinct in me screamed to turn back, to run, but there was nowhere else to go. I was trapped here, wherever "here" was.

And then, in the distance, I saw movement.

Someone—or something—was shuffling slowly down the street, its form twisted, dragging itself along as if every step was agony. My heart leapt; maybe it was a survivor, someone who could help me, someone who could tell me where I was. Desperation propelled me forward as I ran toward it, hope flaring up in my chest.

But as I got closer, my hope quickly dissolved into terror. The figure turned toward me, its movements jerky and unnatural, and I saw its face—or rather, what was left of it. Its skin was pallid, gray, with pieces of flesh missing, revealing the white of bone underneath. Its eyes were clouded, lifeless, yet somehow it still looked at me, and a shuddering moan escaped from its rotting lips.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat, but it was too late to turn back. It lunged at me with a horrifying speed, and before I could react, I was sprinting again, adrenaline flooding my system as I tore down the blood-stained streets. Behind me, the sound of shuffling grew louder, and when I dared a glance over my shoulder, I saw more figures emerging from the buildings, their mouths twisted in grotesque shapes, guttural sounds spilling from them.

I stumbled, nearly falling as panic clawed at me, my body demanding that I keep running. They were fast—too fast, closing in with unnatural speed, their movements more like animals than anything human. They poured out of the buildings, staggering forward with a terrifying hunger in their eyes, their moans turning into ear-piercing wails as they closed in.

I pushed myself harder, my legs screaming in protest, but there was no other option. I could feel their presence behind me, hear their ragged breaths, their bones creaking with every unnatural step. My vision blurred, my heartbeat deafening as I darted through the empty streets, dodging debris, black ooze splashing up with every step.