Enslaved Heart (A "No one lives" fan-fiction)

Get Armed

Donna Greenwood looked up into the glossy fingerprint stained bathroom mirror in the house of some random frat boy and stared at herself. Her hair was left down to fall in their wavy natural curls at the end a calm sea of umber that cascaded off the slope of her shoulders and covered the image printed on her black shirt. Wild and untamed most of the locks stood out on end and were slightly puffy but smooth enough and untangled from a ten minute wrestle with a brush that it didn't look completely off place with her face. Many of the other girls at that party were beautiful but she was, plain, a plain Jane as her brother would put it. A circular face with a bit of a pointed nose and blue eyes which was the only stand off feature besides the lack of makeup but she didn't claim to be different than anyone else.

Outside a party raged on and the Lady Gaga song "Just dance" boomed through a massive speaker that nearly shook the house while a group of drunk teens sang and danced along. There was a gathering of maybe twenty or more, a relatively small house party but even so the familiar thump of her heart against her rib cage signified the uncomfortable anxiety that came with conversing around so many unknown people. She checked her phone once more only to see that the darkened lock screen showed no new messages. Her brother had promised to come along but instead.. She was alone. That loneliness cut harder than any insult that could be spat at her.

In the drowning thoughts of self pity she hadn't realized the sudden overwhelming silence that came with the music, sunken in her own thoughts and concerns until there was a crash of a table tipping over and something glass shattered against the floor. Donna took a step towards the bathroom door and reached for the doorknob then stopped realizing something. While the music played there were no other sounds. Not the voices and laughter of children or the thumping of heavy footsteps as they jumped on the floor in a dance move of some kind. The rancid smell of alcohol and B.O was still there, but something else now wafted along this familiar aroma. A more metallic scent that she recognized from her time volunteering at an animal shelter when dealing with severely injured dogs, blood. It was faint, soft and teasing at her flaring nostrils but enough that the anxiety from before suddenly tripled and her breathing became displaced and rapid. What's going on out there? After several minutes of standing there the Lady Gaga song completed and then switched off to utter silence. No whispers and giggles that would suggest it was all some dumb prank or even the sound of cars starting if they had ditched her.

The urge to open the window and run suddenly arose but there was something else that trumped it, curiosity. The same curiosity that got all the dumb white girls killed in horror movies but one that she could not deny in the moment. Clutching the cool plastic covering of her phone case with all the confidence she could muster, Donna approached the door and pulled the door handle open swinging it outwards to a horrific sight.

It was a bloodbath in every sense of the word, blood splattered against the walls and over furniture. Pooling in massive dark crimson puddles against the floor under fallen bodies or in trails as someone attempted to get away only to be downed. Not a single person moved and from the injuries that could be pointed out against the flesh of each person they probably never would. The scene itself looked like a rabid and vicious animal had gotten in and torn apart each teenager but from the serrated and smooth cuts this could only have been done by a calculating individual with a steady hand. Slitting through flesh as if it was butter and having no sympathy for whoever's life was snuffed out at the hand of their blade.

She stepped over hand clamped around her mouth still numb with shock and leaned over a particularly pretty blonde who was lying on her stomach. Gingerly turning the girl over only to see the open wound against her neck practically beheading her. Her hair matted with blood and a chunk had been ripped out from a struggle of some kind was now placed beside her on the ground. A fresh stream of blood geyser-ed up and hit her in the face but Donna was too focused to be perturbed checking for a pulse only to feel nothing. Not the flicker of a heart beat or even the hint of life, just a solid feel of veins that no longer pulsated. From the warmth still radiating off the bodies Donna knew that whoever did this must still be nearby and yet her stomach churned so violently it was hard to stand back up again. Their scent was nauseating and the sight of people tossed around in heaps like rag dolls was a traumatizing one at that. She backed up into the hallway one hand still clasped over her mouth only to feel her movements impeded by what felt like a solid wall. Turning around to see a blood stained black tank top and dragging her eyes upwards only to be pulled into the darkness.