Arrghhh...I can't believe I wrote this. But I really needed to get the idea out there. If you guys feel like finding out what happened to Mina, be sure to make suggestions in ur reviews, because I have no idea 0_0. Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
Behind my house is a path which leads all the way out to the base of the Arklay Mountains. I live on the edge of town anyway, but its still a long walk. Every weekend morning I'd take my dog, Roland, up the path and into the forests that surround our town, Raccoon City, and sometimes even up the state-run nature trails that climbed the very mountains.
But a while ago something strange started happening. I couldn't use my downtime to go out anymore. Instead, I had to lock all the doors and windows at night, and actually consider moving in with a friend for a while. Because out there---somewhere out there in the forests---people started being murdered. Horrible, violent murders. Human beings ripped apart; eaten. Cannibals.
I'll admit it, the thought scared me. Since I don't live within Raccoon's actual borders, I started getting worried. Hikers killed. Birdwatchers killed. Picnickers killed. I didn't want any headline saying "Mina Higgens killed."
I worked in town, at least. I wasn't a cop who had to go looking for these sickos, and I wasn't a lumberjack or a woodsman or somebody living up there in a cabin. I worked at the grocery store, actually. And I could tell you---that was awful those first days. You hear everyone talking when you work in a place like that. All the new stories and theories. And none of them helped---they all seemed to say the same thing: at least I don't live outside town, or: I don't think they can be stopped.
Now I know they couldn't. But that comes later.
I got worried about Roland. I wouldn't let him go outside in the early morning or late afternoon. Nighttime, he didn't even want to go out. Maybe he knew something was weird out there...
But I couldn't control him all the time. That morning when he flew out of the house and through the woods I'd followed him. I'd chased him and I'd flown through the underbrush. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't want to die either. It was overcast and raining, even though it was July. Weird weather.
Everything was bright green. All the foliage. The trails were covered with earthy soil, turning to rich mud in the drizzle. I hadn't dressed right at all as I'd sped out of the house; peasant top, hoodie, sweats. Hadn't even thought to put on my boots, just my sneakers. But I hadn't been very organized of late and I hadn't had a whole lot of time.
Finally I could see Roland; an amber flash through the gaps in some bushes. I ran that way, but I could already smell something...weird. Something sweet, but not...right. Like a candy bar left under the couch for waaay too long. I don't advise that. This awful smell fills the whole room its been dumped in, not unlike what I smelled that morning....
But it was sickening as well. It got stronger as I followed the zooming brown flashes that were my golden retriever, and it was horrible because I was running into the wind, and the rain was falling right into my eyes, and I was sweating but it was really too cold to take off my hoodie so I was feeling all screwed.
Finally I found him, standing behind a rock, body all rigid. I'd crooned so softly to him to come here, come here boy. He came, and I saw what he'd been hiding with his form.
A horrible sight. Some guy. Some guy who had been torn apart. Intestines littered the muddy ground around him. The skin of his forehead looked like it had been pulled off, like rubber off a tire. Blood flowed out of his mouth in a steady stream. His clothing was all torn. And that smell. That horrible smell, now magnified a hundred times....
I'd screamed, and I'd whistled to my dog, and he'd followed me from the spot, both of us tripping over slippery weeds and scittering across dry roots and fallen branches. Tripping over rocks, falling in the mud. But who cared, really? All I could think of clearly was that there was only one way he could have been so totalled, a human being wrenched apart like scrap metal off a truck or jeep. But where could I go, really? Even if I went home, I'd be so close to this...this...crime site...
Crime site. I should call them---the police, the fire department, even the S.T.A.R.S. But I realised I was running the wrong way, completely the wrong way. And then Roland dissapeared again, and I tried to call but I couldn't, because my lips felt stiched together.
But I hadn't really been scared. Not yet. That comes now.
Because I heard it behind me. Moaning, shuffling. When I turned around I felt like I could have fallen dead right there. I still don't know what they were....zombies? Monsters? What can you call something like that? All I know is that I couldn't run. I guess I wanted to, but really I was just staring at the way their eyes were so blank and white, the way they could move without even being alive...
And then I realised that if I did NOT run, then I was going to die. I had, after all, no weapon, and instinct told me that anything natural, such as a rock or a treelimb, wouldn't be much good.
But I still couldn't move. I could scream---that was my one weapon for the moment.
And cak, cak cak. I heard some shotgun fire off rounds, and the...thing nearest me fell. I looked up. Some guy was standing up ona boulder, but I couldn't see his face because he was standing in front of the sun. But I didn't really want to stick around; he'd shot them because they were coming to kill me, but who would shoot him if he tried? So I ran off, and now I really regret doing that....
I'm not sure when my body gave up on me, but after a while my legs folded under me like wet paper. And I was wet; it was raining so hard that when I fell I sunk up to my wrists in the mud. And to make it all worse, I was completely lost. I tried to remember all the survival skills I knew---moss always grows on the North side of rocks, and blah blah blah.
But my mind was as exhausted as my legs. But I couldn't just give up there, in some muddy field near my own town. No way. So I made myself get up again, and I walked towards the nearest trees. As soon as I got in the woods I could feel something different; something almost....hellish. I got this feeling like I had wandered into a deathtrap.
I'd never seen trees that close together in my life. It was like they were warning me to go back, to go home...and I really would've, if I knew how. So I just kept finding ways through them, tearing myself and my clothes up. And I still couldn't believe this weather, rain in July this freezing, and I worried about how muggy it would get after the sky finished crying like this.
I didn't look where I was going for a while. That's probably how I ran into that tree. And it knocked me out. Dumb, huh? I should've died then though, when I wouldn't have felt any pain....
But somebody wasn't ready to give up on me yet. I woke up eyes-level with some kind of spider. My hair was wet---I guess it rained all night---and my clothes were soaked. My front was all covered with mud. And I guess as I lay there, drowning in that forest muck, I decided something. No one's taking me down without a fight.
No one, damn it.
So I got up again. I looked up at the tree that had made me black out. How high was it? Pretty high. If I climbed it I might get an idea of where I was. Problem: I was never good at climbing trees. Well, I was never good at running either, was I? So there was no hurt in trying.
I shinnied up slowly, and I could feel how rough that awful bark was through my jeans. Ow, ouch, ooh, ow, ouch, ooh, I thought as I climbed. Finally I made it a decent way up. And shit, I hadn't even cleared the other trees yet. I was just staring at leaves, leaves, leaves. Wow, that was just fucking wonderful. What to do now? If I sat up here, in this branch, maybe I could rest. Zombies can't climb trees, I reasoned with myself. Right?
So I just went ahead and gambled. I did my best to balance evenly, which I must say wasn't too comfortable, but hey, nothing ever was, right? I finally dozed off, I guess, but I can't say I slept all that well for the nightmares....
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
Behind my house is a path which leads all the way out to the base of the Arklay Mountains. I live on the edge of town anyway, but its still a long walk. Every weekend morning I'd take my dog, Roland, up the path and into the forests that surround our town, Raccoon City, and sometimes even up the state-run nature trails that climbed the very mountains.
But a while ago something strange started happening. I couldn't use my downtime to go out anymore. Instead, I had to lock all the doors and windows at night, and actually consider moving in with a friend for a while. Because out there---somewhere out there in the forests---people started being murdered. Horrible, violent murders. Human beings ripped apart; eaten. Cannibals.
I'll admit it, the thought scared me. Since I don't live within Raccoon's actual borders, I started getting worried. Hikers killed. Birdwatchers killed. Picnickers killed. I didn't want any headline saying "Mina Higgens killed."
I worked in town, at least. I wasn't a cop who had to go looking for these sickos, and I wasn't a lumberjack or a woodsman or somebody living up there in a cabin. I worked at the grocery store, actually. And I could tell you---that was awful those first days. You hear everyone talking when you work in a place like that. All the new stories and theories. And none of them helped---they all seemed to say the same thing: at least I don't live outside town, or: I don't think they can be stopped.
Now I know they couldn't. But that comes later.
I got worried about Roland. I wouldn't let him go outside in the early morning or late afternoon. Nighttime, he didn't even want to go out. Maybe he knew something was weird out there...
But I couldn't control him all the time. That morning when he flew out of the house and through the woods I'd followed him. I'd chased him and I'd flown through the underbrush. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't want to die either. It was overcast and raining, even though it was July. Weird weather.
Everything was bright green. All the foliage. The trails were covered with earthy soil, turning to rich mud in the drizzle. I hadn't dressed right at all as I'd sped out of the house; peasant top, hoodie, sweats. Hadn't even thought to put on my boots, just my sneakers. But I hadn't been very organized of late and I hadn't had a whole lot of time.
Finally I could see Roland; an amber flash through the gaps in some bushes. I ran that way, but I could already smell something...weird. Something sweet, but not...right. Like a candy bar left under the couch for waaay too long. I don't advise that. This awful smell fills the whole room its been dumped in, not unlike what I smelled that morning....
But it was sickening as well. It got stronger as I followed the zooming brown flashes that were my golden retriever, and it was horrible because I was running into the wind, and the rain was falling right into my eyes, and I was sweating but it was really too cold to take off my hoodie so I was feeling all screwed.
Finally I found him, standing behind a rock, body all rigid. I'd crooned so softly to him to come here, come here boy. He came, and I saw what he'd been hiding with his form.
A horrible sight. Some guy. Some guy who had been torn apart. Intestines littered the muddy ground around him. The skin of his forehead looked like it had been pulled off, like rubber off a tire. Blood flowed out of his mouth in a steady stream. His clothing was all torn. And that smell. That horrible smell, now magnified a hundred times....
I'd screamed, and I'd whistled to my dog, and he'd followed me from the spot, both of us tripping over slippery weeds and scittering across dry roots and fallen branches. Tripping over rocks, falling in the mud. But who cared, really? All I could think of clearly was that there was only one way he could have been so totalled, a human being wrenched apart like scrap metal off a truck or jeep. But where could I go, really? Even if I went home, I'd be so close to this...this...crime site...
Crime site. I should call them---the police, the fire department, even the S.T.A.R.S. But I realised I was running the wrong way, completely the wrong way. And then Roland dissapeared again, and I tried to call but I couldn't, because my lips felt stiched together.
But I hadn't really been scared. Not yet. That comes now.
Because I heard it behind me. Moaning, shuffling. When I turned around I felt like I could have fallen dead right there. I still don't know what they were....zombies? Monsters? What can you call something like that? All I know is that I couldn't run. I guess I wanted to, but really I was just staring at the way their eyes were so blank and white, the way they could move without even being alive...
And then I realised that if I did NOT run, then I was going to die. I had, after all, no weapon, and instinct told me that anything natural, such as a rock or a treelimb, wouldn't be much good.
But I still couldn't move. I could scream---that was my one weapon for the moment.
And cak, cak cak. I heard some shotgun fire off rounds, and the...thing nearest me fell. I looked up. Some guy was standing up ona boulder, but I couldn't see his face because he was standing in front of the sun. But I didn't really want to stick around; he'd shot them because they were coming to kill me, but who would shoot him if he tried? So I ran off, and now I really regret doing that....
I'm not sure when my body gave up on me, but after a while my legs folded under me like wet paper. And I was wet; it was raining so hard that when I fell I sunk up to my wrists in the mud. And to make it all worse, I was completely lost. I tried to remember all the survival skills I knew---moss always grows on the North side of rocks, and blah blah blah.
But my mind was as exhausted as my legs. But I couldn't just give up there, in some muddy field near my own town. No way. So I made myself get up again, and I walked towards the nearest trees. As soon as I got in the woods I could feel something different; something almost....hellish. I got this feeling like I had wandered into a deathtrap.
I'd never seen trees that close together in my life. It was like they were warning me to go back, to go home...and I really would've, if I knew how. So I just kept finding ways through them, tearing myself and my clothes up. And I still couldn't believe this weather, rain in July this freezing, and I worried about how muggy it would get after the sky finished crying like this.
I didn't look where I was going for a while. That's probably how I ran into that tree. And it knocked me out. Dumb, huh? I should've died then though, when I wouldn't have felt any pain....
But somebody wasn't ready to give up on me yet. I woke up eyes-level with some kind of spider. My hair was wet---I guess it rained all night---and my clothes were soaked. My front was all covered with mud. And I guess as I lay there, drowning in that forest muck, I decided something. No one's taking me down without a fight.
No one, damn it.
So I got up again. I looked up at the tree that had made me black out. How high was it? Pretty high. If I climbed it I might get an idea of where I was. Problem: I was never good at climbing trees. Well, I was never good at running either, was I? So there was no hurt in trying.
I shinnied up slowly, and I could feel how rough that awful bark was through my jeans. Ow, ouch, ooh, ow, ouch, ooh, I thought as I climbed. Finally I made it a decent way up. And shit, I hadn't even cleared the other trees yet. I was just staring at leaves, leaves, leaves. Wow, that was just fucking wonderful. What to do now? If I sat up here, in this branch, maybe I could rest. Zombies can't climb trees, I reasoned with myself. Right?
So I just went ahead and gambled. I did my best to balance evenly, which I must say wasn't too comfortable, but hey, nothing ever was, right? I finally dozed off, I guess, but I can't say I slept all that well for the nightmares....