Jared Leto • Imagines (editing)

grimes

Taking requests for last few JUST MET stories, message me!! Enjoy ;)

You gripped the side of the brick wall intently waiting for it to pass.

Waiting for what was left of them, to pass.

It's been a couple years since the outbreak, and you've been on your own.

Not a single living human was in sight. It terrified you everyday even though it didn't get any worse.

Things were never going to be the same.

As you climbed up a city escape, you wondered if you might be the only one left.

You remember a couple days ago you saw this boy in the clearing of the woods. It had  been awhile since you've seen someone alive, especially younger then you.

He had no eye. And it didn't look like the dead did it.

He told you to go, like you were crossing territory. He mouthed it and waved his hand furiously.

He must've been in trouble, but you didn't have the power to help. You obeyed, but you strongly regret it.

You were currently parched, and your tongue felt like sandpaper on the roof of your mouth.

On top of only using your voice for sound effects, you were very hungry, thirsty and your saliva was limited.

The city was far from your hideout, so it was about 30 minutes ago since your water bottle had ran out.

Struggling to lift your self on the rooftop, your arms wobbled. You give out, hitting the surface with a small thump.

Your muscles ached, but you shook it off, standing up to walk.

You planned to grab anything left. Which was most likely not enough.

You reached the front side of the building, and laid down on your stomach to peer over.

It was a strip of stores you have never been to.

You've felt like you have been everywhere, so a smile strung your lips, sparking a little hope within you.

There was a trap door 3 meters from you, that most likely lead into one of the stores.

With two yanks, they clicked open. You quietly, creaked the doors wider peaking inside.

The dead was in there, but it really was dead.

A body of a woman with a porcelain face and a bloody hole in the middle of her head, decayed, right where you were supposed to land.

The pistol still hooked on her index finger.

You gulped, shaking your head. You've seen enough already to get a weak stomach, but your heart was still warm with emotions.

You hopped in careful not to touch her. It was a small disorganized camping store. Barley raided.

You looked back at the girl, she had a name tag over her clerk. Amber. She probably owned this store.