. ｡• *₊ ✧▮𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 ᵗʷᵈ

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒊𝒔.

III. ▬▬✧ *:.｡.

,𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆

School cancelled until further notice. Patients crammed into every hospital hallways and deceased filling morgues to the brim top. Corpses invading the streets and sprawled like package in a post office waiting for being picked up and eventually buried to the ground. Dead rising, and slaying a mouthful of the humanity with sharp claws, and decaying teeth. Those were events worthy of a Hollywood movie or comic book he spends hours scouring through. The concept of reality made it impossible to betide.

Yet, in his reality it did.

Ever since the turn started, he soon had to grow up, toughen up in order to survive the adversity of a world he never fathom himself being stuck in. He learned the rules. The most important one being; Thou shalt not get bitten nor scratched, or you'll simply die. A rule that seemed so easy to practice from afar yet so hard to follow when you find yourself trapped in a scarlet, ferocious labyrinth of clapping jaws and steel—grey claws and of which issues are reduced to nothing but a flesh—tearing death.

And lucky are the ones who managed to avoid an everlasting sentence in the stretching empire of the walking dead.

You are not safe,  it occurred in his head into razor sharp slits, slashing his brain with smoldering, and large engravings. No matter how many people are around or how clear the area looks. No matter what people say, no matter what you think. The pattern of these words was constant, prompt like a daily reminder, an echo that always comes back. Which helped him to accept the fact that death would come at his porch whenever she feels like it.

You are not safe. And he would someday had to face her head—on.

It only takes one second. One second and it's over. Because she was watching quietly, lurking in the dark and shadows and looking for every mistakes, imprudent attitude like a tiger waiting for its prey to let its guard down. A single wrong step and you were led right to a galloping fatality. Never let your guard down, ever. He unfortunately did, lowered his ears like an unwary quary. I want you to promise me.

I promise. He hasn't kept it.

And Death, indeed, knocked at his door. She was there, rooted a hot inch before the threshold of his vestibule with a vicious, sharp toothed grin and tarred orbs so stygian that a single glance could swallow his soul and sins and unachieved dreams etching his existence all at once.

Yet, nothing occured. And her actions were reduced to nought but a hideous, jarring shriek of absolute choler, and defeaning offense. It came out of death's throat like a ballet of thorns and icicles and blistering acids that collided with the boy's unstable being. She was capricious and despised being humiliated by some pathetic, sinful creatures.