Slay the Dead

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Chapter 1

Staring down at the floor, Jake felt a shiver travel up his spine. Can't they ever turn down the AC? Just because this is a prestigious private school doesn't mean they have to flaunt their budget.

"Themes of freedom, good and evil, and the modern condition are studied in such masterpieces as Goethe's Faust, Dostoevsky's The..." Blah, blah, blah. He already knew this, he accidentally read ahead in the curriculum, and now is subjugated to the torture of literature. It's not really torture; just the fact that he learned this on his own made it boring.

Glancing at the clock, he's overjoyed by the fact that class is almost over. Counting down the seconds, the first ring doesn't sound on time. In fact it isn't ringing at all. He waited, glaring at the speakers, and jumped as a screeching comes over the intercom insteaad of the standard ring of the bell.

"Stop it, please stop it!" someone screeched, the blood curdling sound echoing through the silent halls, the only sound through out the entire school. There were scrambling sounds for a few seconds, then a splattering. Like something struck a rotten melon, and it splashed over every available surface.

"At...attention students. There are murderers in the school! Get out, for God's sake, get the hell out!" Glunk, another wet noise. Jake could feel bile rise up his throat as his hands clenched.

Click, the receiver is turned off. Everything is frozen in place, shock covering each student's face. Jake watched the intercom and, shaking violently; he knocked his fifty-pound bag to the floor. The clunk is deafening, before the realization sets in.

The first scream of terror shattered the numbness of the news, and soon it felt like he went deaf from everything except the horrible sounds of bones crunching under the feet of the frightened. The room emptied, and a body lay dead on the floor, blood pooling out of its mouth.

He catched his reflection in the mirror, brown hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. Just an average hunk, at the rich people's school, or if you were smart enough you can... could get in. Standing slowly, each bone creaks from the absence of stretching for an hour and a half. Peering through the window to the hall, chaos blossoms as one by one, students are grabbed by clammy hands.

Taking out his Ipod, sweaty fingers are barely able to jam the ear buds into the correct place. Without looking at the song, he turned it up to full blast. Slipping a cigarette into his lips, he shook so violently he couldn't light it. Counting each try, he heard a whimper come from his throat.

"For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world." He sat there for so long without looking up, without thinking. Eventually he can't take it any longer, he had to get out of there.

Taking out his phone, Jake dials 911 in the hopes of not having to go outside. It's not his job to protect anyone, let the police do their jobs!

"The police are currently receiving too many calls at this moment. Please call back at another time." Taking a breath in the hopes he can calm himself, it has the opposite effect. Each breath gets longer, yet faster. He began to huff and gag. Leaping to his feet, Jake rushed out the classroom. He runs smack into a body, stiff as a board.

Sprawled on the slick floor, he looked up, horror layering his face. A person just stands there, a football player, he stood just looking blankly at Jake. Another person walked up from behind him, and reached out.

"Look out!" The football player turns to look to late. Gray hands grab his face, and pulls him straight towards a gaping mouth full of teeth. Blood gushes over his eyes, splurting every which way. Wiping it out off his face, Jake stared upward expecting a dead athlete.

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