Trash: A Collection of Stories

Chapter 3

The sun cascaded over my closed eyes, making me squint. I groaned and shielded my face, my head starting to throb.

I heard a groan match mine behind me and realized there was an arm draped over my side. Their warm skin made mine sweaty and I noticed my dress was on the guild hall floor. I squeaked, my cheeks turning a bright red, all that was left on were my favorite underpants and twin bra.

I'm going to be sick.

Shoving the arm off me, not looking at who it belonged to, I made a break for the bathroom. The contents of my stomach were emptied and I couldn't stop the sob that escaped with it.

"Levy, baby? What's wrong?!" Sting stumbled into the bathroom, loosing his own guts on the floor. "Oh my god, that's nasty," he looked at his mess. I leaned back on my heels and pressed my palm to my forehead.

"We over did it," I peered around the bathroom stall at him. "Wait why did you come into the girls bathroom?"

"I heard your inhumane sob and thought something was wrong," he tried to step over his vomit, but slipped and fell in it. I burst out laughing as he cringed, then felt my stomach act up and was over the toilet again. "That's what you get for laughing at me."

"Oh, shut up it was really funny," I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and flushed the toilet.

"Well I feel like crap, sitting in my crap, looking like even more crap."

I giggled and crawled through the mess over to him, trying to ignore how gross this actually is. "Then I'll be crap with you." He chuckled and kissed my forehead. I don't know why but I feel so attracted to him, was it because last night? What did we even do after the karaoke thing?

"I'm never letting you make me drink that much again."

"Hey, it was fun."

"Yes, because sitting in a pool of my own vomit with my girl is so much fun." 'My girl', he called me his girl. I couldn't help but beam as he looked confused. "What? Did I say something?"

"Yes, and it was perfect," I flung my arms around him and let my head rest on his chest.

"Uhm, ok. Well we should probably get up and have a janitor come clean up before anyone else in the guild arrives. Also I need more sleep." He placed a hand to his forehead and leaned back on the other hand.

"You want to crash at my place for the day?" I asked, trying to stand.

"That would be great." I held my hand out to him, helping him up. He went to go find the janitor and I went behind the bar, looking under to find my notebook. I put my hand on one of the shelves and moved it around, but there was nothing.

"What?" My voice was low and panicked. I bent down and saw it empty.

"What are you looking for?" Sting walked over, his clothes still soaked.

"My book, it isn't here!"

"Calm down. Maybe you just misplaced it last night."

"No, I made sure I hid it so no one could read it. Uh you grabbed my arm as I shoved it in there and that's all I remember."

"No one was here with us.." Sting joined me behind the counter. "Let's check the tab- ACK!" His words were cut off with a thunk. I turned just in time to get splattered with his blood and screamed. "Save... Me..." His eyes were bulging as a figure behind pulled a cleaver from his head. Sting fell forward into my lap, blood spewing all over me.

"What just happened?!" I looked down at him in disbelief. The cleaver swung down again, chopping his head clean off. It rolled down and more blood poured out on me. My breath caught and I puked. Then realized..

My head shot up at the figure. I couldn't see their face as it was covered by a cloak. "You killed him.. But why?" He didn't respond, but a grin grew on what I could see of his features. "And now you're going to kill me.. Right.. Why am I not freaking out?"

He raised the cleaver, blood dripped off the metal onto my cheek. With a swish, the blade met flesh. But it was Sting's. I quickly lifted his body over me and let the knife lodge into his back.

"Sorry, Sting," I threw his corpse to the side and pushed past the figure, stumbling to the front door. They opened before I could get to them and I ran into someone.

"Levy? What's wrong- WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN VOMIT AND BLOOD. Oh my god you smell rancid," it was Orga.

"Sorry about this," I could hear footsteps behind me.

"Sorry about what?" He apparently hadn't realized we weren't alone. I squatted down and let his scream follow. Another thunk and once again I was showered in thick red liquid. I looked up and the figure was peering down at me, but now I could see more of his face. His grin had grown bigger, more inhuman. His eyes were wide and pupils shrunk down, veins bulging. The rest of his face was completely black, it was like he had no actual form, a grey aura seeped from his cloak.

"Oh god," I cringed and crawled through Orga's legs, making a break for it. I ran through the streets, being stupid enough, and was met with horrible shrieks. What do I expect, all I had on was my under garments and was covered in vomit and blood, that's not usually normal. Oh and not just a tiny bit, I was drenched to the bone.

Finally I made it to my little cottage house and slammed the door, locking and putting in the dead bolt. That's probably not going to protect me, but it's something. I turned away from the door, catching my breath and took in everything. The place had been ransacked. The walls were stained an unsettling red, the couch ripped apart and table smashed. Water was shooting out of the sink and food from the fridge had been thrown around.

I stepped over glass and scattered books, making my way further into the mess. Rose's dog food had been dumped into the toilet, then tried to be flushed down. But obviously it had clogged it up and the toilet overflowed, now covering the floor in a layer of brown, nasty water. I continued on, sloshing to my bed room. Rose hadn't been anywhere else in the house and my heart beat picked up as my hand clutched the door knob to my room.

Slowly twisting it, I pushed it open with a loud creek. Surprisingly I still had something in my stomach, because now it's all over the floor and my feet. My bed and walls were speckled with red and black clumps. Waste was matted into the carpet and chunks of fur stuck to the ceiling. Two eyes and a tongue dangled down from pieces of string.

A small whimper and a blob of red movement made me jump back. Rose. In the corner I saw her, she had been skinned. Her eyes were gauged out and her tongue cut off. She took a step with an audible squish.

"How the hell are you still alive," my hand flew to my mouth as the creature continued to move closer to me. I ran back to the kitchen and yanked out a drawer, kitchen utensils flying. Crap. Laying out on the counter was a long knife. Perfect. I grabbed it and dashed back to my room. Rose had made it halfway across the floor already, a trail of blood behind her. "I'm sorry." I clutched the knife, closed my eyes, and began repeatedly stabbing her. She squealed and howled, trying to get away. I didn't stop until there was no noise coming from her but the sound of the blade going in and out of her. I dropped the knife and sat in the scary silence.

What just happened?