Welcome to the End

Chapter 10- Brooklyn

We jump the fence of the first house, making our way to the backyard. The grass is already beginning to turn a light shade of brown. The pool is filled with leaves and bugs, a slight humming sound coming from the constant filtering system.

I put my hands up to signal them to stop. Then I turn to face the sliding glass door. Empty, no sign of anyone. They must have left a while ago. I try the open the door. Locked. I take the crowbar I grabbed from the garage and grip it in my hands.

"Stand back," I order the girls. They get behind the wall. I take a step back and swing. The glass crashes at my feet. I wiggle around the crowbar to get any sharp pieces of glass off the top of the door.

"Let's go."

We enter the house, and I immediately smell something putrid. My face cringes, and I begin gagging.

"Oh god," Manages Sofi before coughing heavily. I look over at Emma, her face priceless. I start laughing.

"What?" she sputters. I shake my head.

I point over to the pantry. The girls start putting stuff on the glass table located in the kitchen. I shake glass off my shirt, and cut my finger. The blood rushes down my hand. Crap. I suck on it and move on. I walk upstairs, trying to find something useful. The first room I find is a girls room. It looks almost like a nursery, but not quite. Instruments line the wall, guitars, clarinets, and saxophones. I only know what's what because I took orchestra in middle school. I leave the room, closing the door behind me. I hear the rustle of the girls down below my feet, and move on. I move into what looks like an office, strewn papers cover the floor. I cautiously step over them. I look around. A broken tv, an Xbox, some old desktop computer. It looked like someone quickly ran in here to collect things, pictures, maybe important documents. I look at the desk, a picture of a family of four. The girl in the picture looks about four, a huge gap between her teeth shows through her huge smile. A boy of about twelve is also smiling, riding his father's back like a horse. The mother just seems happy in general, her bright yellow hair flowing down her back. They all seemed genuinely happy. And just for a minute, I forgot about everything that was going on.I forgot about the fact that I haven't heard anything from my mom, and I forgot the fact that we were on a mission. I turn around and head back out the way I came in, looking at the picture one last time.

There's one last room I want to look in before I head back down again. I walk into the parent's room, stepping onto stained carpet. It looks weird, and the putrid smell I smelled in the kitchen appears again. There's a trail, a trail of blood from the looks of it, leading right to a pair of shut closet doors. There's a bed to, sheets doused in blood, as if someone took a hose and just sprayed the crap out of it. I tighten my grip on the crowbar, breathing through my mouth to keep from vomiting. The doors seemed to be jammed, so I take the crowbar and latch it onto the riveter. I give it a good yank, breathing in and out before I pull. When I open the doors, I gag. There, laying on a pile of clothes, is the man from the picture. I could barely recognize him, his face was torn almost completely off. There are maggots and flies all over him. His jaw hangs in two pieces, looking like an ant. I shut the doors quickly, wiping my sweaty face with the sleeve of my shirt. We got to get out of here. Then, something begins to drip on me. Drip... Drip... Drip... I look at the top of my boots, wet with fresh blood. I crane my neck up slowly, to see the mother hanging from the ceiling, dripping blood and flesh from her rotten and broken teeth.