I would like to state that I own nothing, but the plot which came from my own brain.
New story that popped into my head and won't leave. Tell me if I should continue this.
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BPOV
I held the spear tightly in my hands as I limped down the corridor. I could hear heavy breathing coming from the classroom room on my right but I paid no attention to it. What I did pay attention to, however, was the muffled screaming emanating from the natatorium. I knew I didn't have much time, he was already injured and the creatures had probably already gotten to him. I quickened my pace, almost to a dead sprint before I reached to doors. I closed my eyes, fearful of what I would find. Eyes still closed, I pushed on the door handle. The cool, chlorinated air rushed over me as I opened my eyes.
Blood. It was splashed on the tile walls, the floors, the windows. I couldn't understand how someone could live without this much blood.
"Bella. Get out of here. It's still here."
"Jake? Jake where are you?" I turned around. His mangled body was resting against the bleachers, blood still pouring from the wound on his head. "Oh my god."
His eyes widened just a fraction of an inch, "Bella, stand as still as you can. It's on the wall by the scoreboard." I froze, hoping the creature would spare me.
A growl sounded throughout the room, clearly it had seen me. Jake began to stand up, using the wall to take most of his weight. "Bella, when I say 'run', do it and don't ask questions. Don't look back and don't come back for me. You promise?"
"Jake," tears filled my eyes.
"Promise me Bella."
"I love you Jake."
I looked into his eyes. They were filled with sadness and longing. "I love you too Bella. Never forget that." He took a cautious step forward, limping. "Now run."
I did as he told me to. I shoved the door open as the monster lunged. I could hear it collide with a soft mass. I just kept running down the corridor, not stopping. Growling, tearing, and screaming were the last things I remember of that day.
I woke suddenly; hand poised over my 9mm. 'Just another nightmare. There's nothing here.' I withdrew my hand, adrenaline still pumping in my veins. Lying back down, I thought of how things were before the invasion.
Children would play kickball in the streets, teenagers would be in school learning about math and science, and adults would've been at work earning money to support their families. My life was no different. My little sister would play in the yard while I did my homework. My father would be out protecting the citizens of this dreary town on Forks. My mother was off gallivanting around with her new young husband-of-the-month.
Now, nobody goes outside without a reason and a means of protection, whether it is a knife or a gun. I haven't seen a child in years. Come to think of it, I've only seen a handful of people since it happened. Only a few survived the initial attack by either going underground or fighting. The fighters had to be tough with nothing to lose. The ones who went underground were the cowards. They had everybody bring them food or water, and let others die so they could live. Then there were people like me. Nomads, I guess you could say, that never stayed in one place long and only fought when needed. I try to stay out of the way of everything. That's how I've stayed alive.
I've traveled around the country, looking for places untouched by the invaders. So far there hasn't been any luck. I'm back in Forks now, looking for anything or anyone who might still be alive. No luck on that front either. I've been here for about a week, sleeping in my old bed, my old comforter around me, memories constantly coming to the fore-front of my mind. I know I'm alone, I was alone before this all started, but now I feel like there is nobody left. Just me, the creatures, and the wilderness.
The creatures are basically like the ones from the movie Alien but don't have acid blood and don't have that little extra mouth thing that comes out their mouths. They move quickly so they are extremely hard to kill, but they aren't that smart, so they're easy to trap. They came from the north, some place in Canada. I remember watching the beginning on the news, my dad –Charlie- asking me if I remember how to use a gun, the moment I knew he wasn't coming home, my first encounter.
'Enough with the trip down memory lane. Move-out is at sunrise and I've got to get some sleep before then.' I shut my eyes. One image flashed in behind my eyelids before everything faded to black. A man standing facing me, his bronze hair falling around his bright green eyes.
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