Punk Losers vs The Living Dead

9-1-Brains?

Beverly poked her head down the staircase again finally able to gain a good view. Bill was on the floor in a puddle of dark liquid. Her eyes finally adjusted to find that her friend that was face down in his own blood and also had a chunk of skull missing from his head. Her eyes wandered further to find said chunk between the teeth of a gooey ghoul with large yellow eyes. Bill's body was still twitching, involuntarily, like when a lizards severed tail continues to squirm.

"Oh, fuck."

Bev's voice came out in a whisper but Mike and Stan still turned to see the scene. They stood there, like she did, dumbfounded. Shocked. Paralysed with fear.

"More brains!"

It said as it's eyes locked with hers. He began to move forward. Mike's hand fumbled for something, anything, to throw at it. He landed on a can of paint on the shelf beside him. He threw it with all his might. The thing's shoulder sloughed off on impact, stopping it for a second.

"Need live brains."

A pair of lanky arms wrapped around Bev, pulling her away from the doorway. Then Stan. Mike got the message following suit on his own before closing the door.

"Fuck, Bill's in there!"

The redhead thrashed in Richie's arms trying to get free. He had no doubt if he complied she'd reopen that door and go to Bill. Or rather his corpse and that thing.

"He's dead, Bev. Gone."

She managed to flip herself, hands clenched onto Richie's jacket. She buried her head in his chest, sobs racking her chest.

"What the fuck was that thing?"

Mike asked, wasting no time in pushing some of the crates used for shipping cadavers against the basement door.

"It looked like a man made out of like, like tar."

Stan said from the floor. He'd collapsed at some point between being pulled away from the door and then.

"Tarman."

Mike whispered.

"We have to get the fuck out of here. We have to get out now. Like right now."

Eddie spoke up. He was still perched on the window's ledge.

"The police station is across town."

Richie argued, although he didn't have a better plan.

"Phone." Eddie thought aloud before trying to form a sentence, "this dump has to have a phone!"

He flew from the ledge into the middle of the room, head whipping around for anything resembling a telephone. His path of vision crossed a small nook of an office. The light that flowed from underneath the door was like a small gift from god.

"There, it's gotta be in there!"

The rest of the Losers followed his glance before they all took off in that direction.

The phone felt slick in Eddie's hands. He licked his lips taking a look at all his friends that huddled around him waiting. The heavy feeling of fear settled over the room.

9-1-

He was almost through punching in the numbers in when a cacophony of screams slipped through the crack of the office's window. They were faint but as Eddie hung over the desk, ear to the phone, he could feel a tingle creep it's fingers down his spine.

"Anyone else hear that?" Stan mumbled.

He and Mike were essentially one person with Mike's arms clung to the other boy protectively.