Welcome to Dead Island

Chapter 2

The lights in the elevator flickered as it passed from floor to floor. A small L.E.D screen just above the door displayed numbers decreasing. 27. 26. 25. Soft music played quietly through a speaker to the left of the door, just above the buttons. A few creeks sounded from the shaft above the elevator.

Aaron looked up in desperation as the unsettling sounds got louder. Just below the buttons, the elevator had a symbol, a logo. He stared deep into it conjuring up the memory of where he had seen it. "The kitchen," he whispered. The same logo was printed on the microwave, the blender, the stove, the fridge, and when he came to think of it, it was also on the TV. SNAP. "Ah, Shi-". The elevator was sent into a free-falling state, knocking around in the small shaft. "AAAH!" he screamed. He knew no one was there. He was helplessly being thrown around the tiny, claustrophobic elevator. His shoulder smashed into the buttons. His head smacking the L.E.D screen above the door, cracking it. From outside, Aaron could hear the elevator screech down the shaft. On the way down, it hit something that sent Aaron flying towards left-hand wall. He smacked it with his face, and fell to the floor, blood seeping from everywhere.

Suddenly, a wire above the elevator that was still intact tightened, pulling the elevator to a stop. The elevator doors opened. The bottom half of the elevator was still in the shaft, but the other was exposed to doors to another floor. They opened. A black man with rough dreadlocks was running towards the elevator, a zombie not far behind. 

"WAIT FOR ME!" He yelled in his Jamaican accent.

Aaron could see the doors straining to close, so he lifted his battered arm to the buttons and punched the 'Door Open' button. He kept stabbing at it, but he could feel himself slipping further and further away from consciousness. He couldn't hold in. His arm slipped, hitting the 'Close Door' button on the way down, before falling limply to the base of the elevator. The doors were shutting, but the Jamaican wasn't giving up. His speed increased. The doors were shutting. 

"NO! NO! WAIT!" He screamed, diving to the floor, hoping to slide into the elevator. But hope was gone. The doors shut, and he slid into the closed door. "NO! PLEASE! NO! ARGH!" He screamed. 

Aaron was safe in the elevator. For now. 

Erin crawled from under her bed; the banging had stopped. "Hello?" she cried. No answer. She heard someone. A person run into the cabin, screaming for help. "HELP! HELP!" She screamed. It was a man outside. 

"I need help! I've been bitten!" shouted the guy, in a strong Aussie accent.

"NO! STAY AWAY!" Shouted Erin. From the strange Australian she heard muffled cries that soon turned into piercing screeches. "I'm screwed," she admitted, letting a single tear escape from her eye. She heard him run at the door, ramming it, banging it. "Pl-ease, g-od!" She whispered, stuttering as she cried. The banging got heavier, she could see that. The wood on the door was starting to break. Board's were coming loose, she was starting to be able to see the terrifying figure that would stop at nothing to sink it's teeth into her skin.

She trembled as she ran to the desk. On the underneath of the desk was a small draw. In it, pencils, pens, rulers, all made by the same unknown company. "Aha! Scissors," she whispered, pulling a pair of orange-handled scissors from the draw. They were large scissors, in the way of being long. Her only chance at survival.

The zombie broke through the top half of the door, still unable to push it open due to the dresser. It stuck it's hand's through the door, grasping at thin air. "Screw it," whispered Erin. She held the scissors so that one of the handles and one of the blades was in her right hand, so it was like a knife. She approached the almost green arm, watching for it's deadly sharp nails. She could see the zombies face. The face of evil itself. Scars. Blood. A face to be feared. She lunged her arm out infront, catching the arm with the scissors. "Bullseye!" she shouted, a smile almost overcoming her face. But that was soon gone. The zombie flung itself at the door, pushing back the dresser. She jumped forward, leaning against the dresser. Pushing with all her might. 

All of a suddon, the banging stopped. Erin took a step back, a puzzled but worried look swept across her face. She looked through the gap. The crazed figure threw it's head back, screeched and ran for the door, jumping through the gap. "AAAH!" She screamed, pushing the scissors out infront of her. Squish. Blood spat everywhere as the scissors forced themselves through the zombies eye and into it's brain. "Ugh," She gagged, barely holding the contents of her stomach down. She shook the scissors and the zombie fell off, with only it's moldy eyeball still left on the scissors. She threw up onto the corpse in front of her. Twice. She needed to get somewhere safe.

The elevator lay dormant for a few seconds, lights still flickering, blood still pouring. But only for a few seconds. The tension snapped the last remain cable and sent the elevator, and Aaron's unconscious body falling a further 5 floors before crashing at the bottom.

When Aaron awoke, the power to the elevator was out. No lights. He was quick to also realise the doors wouldn't open without brute force, but Aaron didn't have that. He was weak; covered in cuts a bruises, but nothing seemed to be broken. No bones teasing to break the skin. He just needed rest.

From outside, he heard a person yell, "Why wont this bloody elevator work?". He was Australian. He was. Now he was just zombie. He felt around, coming to the harsh realisation that he must have dropped the white pipe somewhere up on the top floor. 

"There has to be other things," He whispered to himself. Talking was the only way he kept calm and cool, even if it was to himself. Often, when the family were busy arguing, he would talk to himself, or talk to someone on his phone. He just needed someone.