Claustrophobic | Skephalo

The End of the Skeletons

Dave

The feeling you get after being bitten by a zombie is hard to explain. I can sort of describe it as a rush of adrenaline to start it off, followed by weariness, extreme pain, and disorientation. It's too hard to go into detail, because in all honesty, after being bitten, you're too disoriented to remember every little emotion you're going through. All of that pain and suffering leads to, well, death, I guess. Call it what you want, but you're not alive anymore once you've turned into one of them. I don't remember the first time I was bitten, but the four bites on my arms and legs now seem to be saying enough.

Zombies flooded the house, taking the Skeleton army by surprise. People were screaming, people were fighting, and most importantly, people were running. A few of the zombies were killed, their bodies oozing over the kitchen floor, but most manage to attack, biting whomever stands in their path. The Skeletons were heavily outnumbered, each arrow shot by a crossbow only allowed more zombies to replace the one killed.

Dave was bitten four times on the way in, but the zombies didn't seem to pay much attention to him after that. He wasn't going to turn into one of them, so they might as well focus on the other humans.

It's weird. They're brain-dead, yet still have and react to natural instincts, like a wild animal.

Luckily for the Skeletons, none of them stayed long enough to be ripped to shreds the way Dave was afraid of. Several men were bitten and infected, so the army ended up retreating, completely abandoning Zak's house. Dave knew they weren't going to come back any time soon, especially since so many people were going to turn into zombies. He watched as the large number of undead flocked after the Skeletons, both groups running into the woods.

Dave's head spun as the bites on his arms and legs pulsated. He chased the few remaining Skeletons out of Zak's house, sending them screaming after the others. All he felt was pain; it seemed like it was taking over his body, making him stumble around senseless. Dave shook it off quickly.

That almost seemed like it was too easy. I better keep my eyes peeled.

He glances around the disheveled living room. There was glass everywhere, old books were torn apart, even the couch was coated in a thin layer of blood in certain spots.

Zak is going to be upset.

The upstairs of the house wasn't nearly as bad as downstairs, as the zombies hadn't touched it. Things were out of place from the Skeletons' curiosity, but nothing was really broken. Dave doesn't want to admit it, but he was thankful towards the Skeletons for not destroying any of Zak's valuables or fragile keepsakes. They are, after all, human. And that would be a cruel thing to do to someone who has nothing else.

Deciding to venture out to the soccer field where Vincent and Finn were hiding, Dave walks past a room he hadn't been shown on the way to the exit. It was backed up against Zak's bedroom, but the door was always closed. Now, however, that same door was cracked slightly open, revealing a light purple wall color that could just barely be seen through the lack of light outside. He pushed it slightly, the creaking making him cringe as he peeks inside.

It was a girl's room; the bed covered with elaborate flowered patterns, the closet in the corner overflowing with clothes, and the endless supply of extremely expired makeup on a vanity proved it so. Dave opens the door all the way and steps inside. The air felt thick, as if no one had been inside in a long time. Dust swirled around, causing Dave to sneeze a few times, but it wasn't heavy enough to make him want to leave.

Pictures were pinned to a bulletin board on one wall in the girl's room; a lot of pictures. Zak was in a few of them, but most were photos with a ton of different girls in them. Dave realized that this room belonged to the girl who was in all of the photos. He plucked one polaroid off the wall, being extra careful not to damage it. Zak and the girl stood together, in front of what Dave assumes to be Zak's parents.

This was his sister's room.

Dave puts the photograph back, quickly leaving the room as quickly as he had entered. The door shut with a satisfying click. It was wrong for him to be in there, especially since Zak hadn't told him about his sister at all.

His zombie bites began to ache again, and Dave tried his best to keep a straight face as he stumbled out of the house towards the soccer field. The thought of Zak's family stuck in his head for reasons unknown, and it made Dave sad; he hadn't realized before that he knew absolutely nothing about his family. Nothing real, at least. He didn't have any photographs or memories of anyone that he could relate back to. All he knew was what Clay told him: lies.

•••

Darryl

"I told you Zak, I'm fine. There's no reason for Clay to 'examine' me, or whatever you want to call it," Darryl says, limping next to Zak while doing air quotes around the word examine. They were on their way back to the building Zak had left Clay, and Rocco, inside.

"You say that now, but I have to get back anyways, and you might as well see a doctor. So that's why you're coming with me."

"It just feels wrong- like we're splitting everyone up. The five of us work better as a team, but we're split two, two, and one. Does that seem right to you?"

"Darryl, you're thinking too much into this. Once we make it back to Clay, the three of us will catch up with everyone else. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Zak!" Darryl stops walking, having lost his breath. His outburst was spontaneous even for a jest like Zak, and it was worrisome.

"How about we take a short break?" Zak suggests, getting a nod in response.

Darryl immediately brings himself towards the ground to sit. He breathes heavily for a second, closing his eyes to deepen the inhale. Whatever Oxygen he got didn't seem to be enough, little beads of sweat forming on his brow as evidence. Darryl absentmindedly grasps his ankle tightly, his knuckles turning white as he positioned himself in a way where Zak couldn't see the swelling.

"It's that bad, huh?" Zak asks, attempting to lift Darryl's pant leg to see his ankle.

Darryl pulls his leg away quickly. "No, it's just twisted, so it hurts to walk on," he stands abruptly. "We don't have time to take a break. Come on."

"Sorry, I figured you needed to take a breather. You looked a little out of it."

"No. Besides my ankle, I feel fine. Great, even. Great enough to take down the Skeleton army."

"I'm sure Dave and Vincent have it covered. They do have an entire mob of zombies backing them, after all. Literally."

Darryl doesn't respond to Zak's comment, so Zak repeats himself, earning a small giggle in return.

Haha, the zombies are backing them. Like walking behind. I get it.

A few minutes pass without either boy saying anything, but the tension seemed to be eating at Zak, so he held his hand out as an invitation for Darryl to hold it. Darryl shakes his head, his face seemingly growing more pale as time passed. He is clearly too focused on staying upright to hold Zak's hand.

Zak shrugged it off, continuing to walk in silence back into the city.

I don't want Clay to look at me. I want to go help my friends, I want to save the day. They're what matters right now, not me. We're doing all of this for Vincent, so he doesn't get killed by his own army, the Skeletons. Clay is the doctor, the guy trying to make a cure for the zombie apocalypse; And Dave? Well... Dave is the immune. He's the man who can't be infected. Even Zak has a role of being the inexperienced one. Where do I fit in? I'm the ex-Skeleton with a stupid crush.

A crush. Did I just call it that? Yeah. Who cares? I don't feel embarrassed at all. I've had crushes before. None of them ever kissed me, but still. Zak wants me to be more than a fling; does that mean his boyfriend? I'm assuming so, but we haven't talked about it since then. I should bring it up again before we meet up with Clay. It'll be easier that way, and preferably less awkward.

Darryl shoves his hands into his pockets to shield them from the wind. His body felt sensitive; like it would if he had a fever. Everything ached, and he longed to rest. But he couldn't bear to leave Zak to continue on his own, so Darryl put one foot in front of the other, trying his hardest not to look at the bleeding zombie bite on one of them.