breakout✗d.d

Chapter 8 - Let It End

Then, the noise came. The smashing as glasses hit the carpet, demolishing into tiny, sharp shards as the pure, white carpet was painted with the scarlet coloured wine. The screaming then began, first with Leah, then the baby began to cry followed by everyone else's screeches. Apart from Alice. I tried to talk again, even to yell myself over the current uproar but it was no use. My throat and vocal cords, strained, my lips dry and tongue unmoveable. Leah stood and ran to the door, leaving footprints of blood as her feet got cut on the shards of glass on the floor. I saw Amelia and Mike standing in the door way, shouting at everyone, their eyes black too. The yelling group jumped up and followed Leah quickly to Mike and Amelia. I stood with them but was unable to move my feet.

Everyone then just disappeared but not Alice, she was still gazing at me from the corner, still crying, still sitting and her face expressionless and white. The room was now empty. The once clean floor now drenched in wine and blood with a heavy sprinkle of glass pasted across it. Like silver, glittering stars in a scarlet sky beneath my feet. I was suddenly able to walk so instantly went to Alice. To be honest, I didn't want to. I wanted to follow my demonic family members through the doorway but, I couldn't. Yes, I could walk, but my legs forced me to stride to Alice until I was towering above her. There was no way of escaping, I felt trapped, restricted, forced.

"You pathetic lunatic. You've killed us all." Alice mumbled under her breath as he used the wall to slowly edge her way to a stand. She was still taller than me, as she had always been but only by a little. However I felt like I shrunk as she looked down on me, I slight smirk appearing on her face as she looked behind me.

"Layla..." I heard a male's voice say shakily from behind me. I quickly jolted my head round and saw Daryl standing in the centre of the room. Thank god. Before I could fully understand anything that was going on, Daryl made a swift movement with his arm throwing something at me. I only had a split second and saw a knife slip from his fingertips and plunge into my stomach. I winced, expecting pain but... None came. He looked sorry but not in the same way. His face too, turning pale and his eyes became red and watery. I reached and grabbed the knife handle, trying to pull it out. I couldn't. I let my head drop. It then became clear what had happened. The whole knife blade was in my stomach, blood seeping from the wound as rotting hands clutched at the handle. My rotting hands. I let go of the knife, the sudden image making me jump. My hands were bloody and my veins showed up like white chalk on black paper. My wrists too, various cuts and grazes everywhere. Examining my arms I saw both were the same. Pale peach but patches of purple, blue and black patched around, bruises. Skin cracking on my finger tips and I clasped them into each other, they felt like worn leather. My hands were not normal at all – not human. I panicked, almost falling backwards but instead stumbling backwards so my back was against a wall. I saw my reflection in the shards on the floor and picked up the largest part I could find. My eyes were still blue, but blood shot. Dirt and blood looked like it was been splashed violently onto me. My cheeks literally nearly gone with the amount of cuts on them with dry blood trickling down my neck. Most of my eyebrows gone, my hair messy and matted. My lips chapped and blisters. I was a terrifying sight. I looked like a monster. I was a monster. I was a walker.

I dropped the shard and looked to Alice and Daryl who were both staring at me, both crying but both... Human.

"Layla..." He mumbled again through his sobs. He saw it was me, me as a walker.

"Daryl. Do it. You have to. She'll tear you apart and kill you, slowly. Agonizing. Treacherously. Then she'll kill me and everyone here." Alice whispered to Daryl, her voice contrasting her expression. Her voice was deeper than it used to be, threatening, almost evil like in the way she persuaded him to kill me. Obviously this nothing like her face, in tears, can't bear to see me like this. Daryl just continued to look at me as I stood, frozen, clutching the knife that was still fixed into my stomach. Only a few seconds passed but it felt like hours. The look on his face slowly turning from sad to a neutral then angry. He ran towards me, my machete in his hands. No hesitation. I tried to move but I was stationary. I couldn't move anywhere.

The last thing I remember, the slight pain hitting my neck. Daryl swinging the machete. Then blackness. Like I was asleep. That was until I woke up.

"It's been an hour, come on." Daryl nudged me as I opened my eyes. I sat up, breathing heavily. I was still in the woods.