Fall Out Boy- A Little Less Sixteen Candles Untold (fanfic)

Prolouge

When Pete’s eyes flew open, he could see nothing but darkness.

He tilted his head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was as he searched his brain trying to figure out what had happened. Pete tried to reach his hands out in front of him but they came in contact with a hard wooden surface, he punched against it trying to break it away but it seemed almost impenetrable. He moved his hands either side of him where there was more wood and even more behind him against his back. Pete’s mind began to race with panic as he banged against the surface again, harder this time, and cracked the wood enough to create a small hole, but instead of light coming through, a trail of thin brown stuff trickled through the small gap towards the bottom. Soil.

 He was in a coffin.

The panic magnified-Pete wanted to scream, to yell out for help but a dry burning sensation in his throat stopped him from doing that, no matter how much he tried to swallow and get moisture into his throat to make a sound, it didn’t work. Pete’s panic increased when all of a sudden, a image flashed in his mind as if it were appearing in front of his eyes- a memory: the flash of something sharp appearing from behind and sinking into his throat, the feeling of blood being slowly removed from his body and the dizziness before finally blacking out….

Oh God, Pete thought, I didn't just pass out. I'm dead. I died!

Then how am I still alive?

Pete threw is hands over his face is exasperation, trying to work his head around things. Am I dead or not? He wondered as his slid his hands down his face- and felt a sharp nip on one of his fingers as they slid past his mouth. Although Pete couldn’t see anything, he could feel a wet bead of blood coming from the finger that had been pricked. His blood seemed to run cold with fright as he moved his hands slowly back up to inspect his own mouth, dreading what he might find. Almost cautiously, he ran his fingers along his teeth: No, no, no. it can't be true. Please say its not true!....

His praying was not answered as two of his teeth were pointed and incredibly sharp like a predators. Fangs.

I died....but I didn't....

At that moment, Pete instantly began to bang even harder of the wooden surface above and kicking out with both legs in an attempt to escape. He tried screaming and yelling for help but once again, the dry and burning sensation in his throat prevented him from doing so. Pete lashed out against the coffin with all his strength until the lid seemed to crack in half with a harsh sound like a whip cracking and Pete was finally able to get through. As more soil began to rush inwards as if in an attempt to keep him prisoner down there, he began to scramble out and claw at the soil and kick out with his legs to manoeuvre himself out with just one thought racing through his mind: he had to get out of there.

Pete continued to dig his way out, nails, hair and clothes all caked in soil, thinking he would never manage to escape, until his hand burst out from an opening in the ground and he could feel a cool breeze on his hand and could feel grass brushing against his fingers. Pete’s mind sang with a slight relief. I made it, he thought and he pushed his other hand through the gap he had made in the soil and began to claw his way slowly out. First head, then body and last but not least legs. As soon as his last foot was out, Pete rolled away from the hole in the ground where he had just escaped and laid upon the soft grass in exhaustion, a dizzy and sickly feeling rushing over him as he made no attempt to move while staring up at the night sky. If he had still been human, he would have been panting like hell.

Great, I made it out. Pete thought, Now what?

Unfortunately, Pete’s relief was short lived as two shadowy figures loomed in front of his face, and swiftly made a move to grab him. All Pete could do was lay there.

Oh shit....

One of the figures spoke: “Got you.”