True Paranoia
This place was so unfamiliar to me. It was like the inside of a greyhound restroom, but expanded through the entire place. I had to repeatedly prevent myself from regurgitating within my own mouth. There was blood on every curb and a dead body on every sidewalk.
The first thing I needed to do was find an exit. I surely couldn't go back the way I had come because no sooner than I walked into the town, I was surrounded by an electrified barbed wire gate. I ascended further and further into the ghost town, as the putrid smells grew evident. I didn't know why, but I was befallen by sleepiness. I couldn't sleep there, though. Every building was run down and rusted. I continued walking around town fearing something that was never there. Every three steps, I looked over my shoulder. Sometimes there would be pieces of trash rolling behind me, and other times it was just pure paranoia
I had finally come to a manifestly bloodstained building that had a closed sign on it. The door was locked, so I punched through the glass and unlocked it from the inside. My hand began bleeding, but I was so confounded by the appearance of the area that I didn't pay much attention to it.
"Hello?" I called. I didn't know why I bothered speaking. Every body that I crossed was dead. Either by simple bullet or claw wounds. And others were horrifically dismembered. I searched the store, but it was so destroyed that I couldn't even tell what type of store it was. There was nothing there, so I left out of the back door. Upon entrance into the town, I noticed that it seemed somehow familiar.
After I left the store, I had sudden instances of "De ja vu", as if everything that I was experiencing had once happened before. I used this "De ja vu" like they were premonitions of a sort, so I let them guide me. It was not until I reached a dusty old house did the recollections cease. I tentatively approached the door, careful not to be irresponsible about the situation. I tried to enter the door, but it too was locked. It was then that I noticed a lone rock a few feet away from me. I walked over and picked up the rock. As I expected, there was a rust old key under it. I used the key to let myself in and no sooner than I entered, I knew why the town seemed so familiar.
It was my original home. My place of birth. I was standing in my own living room. There were so many dead bodies inside of the house, but none of them were that of my family. I went to the room that once belonged to me and I saw a bed there that could have possibly been my old bed or not. There was no telling how many families were there after mine. I looked at the bed, but it looked all gross and covered in blood; I was still sleepy. I couldn't help but wonder for what reason a genocide of this caliber existed. I sat down on the floor in the room, sliding my back down the wall. I reached into my right pocket that had a flask of gin in it.
"Well, this is as good a time as any." I said before tipping the flask between my lips. A few minutes after I gulped, I felt drowsy and I nearly drifted to sleep, but I couldn't because I heard a loud noise from a separate wing in the house that scared the hell out of me.
I jumped up and began sidling around multiple corners of the house. I had come to the kitchen and I saw the oddest thing. It was a very grotesque unearthly creature. It looked as if it was foraging for food. It had the appearance of a slimy humanoid shappped spider alligator mix. I was frozen not – knowing how to react. I silently began to panic and sweat. I couldn't get a grip on my anxiety. Its sense of hearing must have been very keen because at the moment one drop of sweat hit the floor, the beast stopped what it was doing and began walking to my direction.
There was nothing that I could do, so I revealed myself and started running. It chased after me and didn't intend to give up. I then recalled that my family kept a hidden gun under a floorboard in the master bedroom. Hopping that it was still there, I ran upstairs to the master bedroom. My heart began to race and my breathing got heavy. The beast was slow, but very persistent. I could have just run out of the house, but I felt that it would have made better since for me to arm myself for protection.
I finally reached the top of the stairwell and walked into my mother's old room. I franticly dropped to my knees sliding around the floor trying to find the false floorboard. After around five seconds, I found it, but I had problems lifting it. The floor was weak from ware and tare, so I simply punched through the board and took the gun out from under.
I then tuned around to the beast that reached my position. It was standing in front of the doorway, so I was blocked in. I could have run to the restroom, but that would have been stupid, so at split second thinking, I jumped from the second story window and broke my left leg. I began crying from both agony and fear at that moment. The beast jumped from the window and landed in front of me. I shot it over and over, but it was ineffectual. I realized that I reached the end of my life span. There were two choices, either I had to die slowly and painfully via the beasts hands, or die quick and painfully by the bullet of a gun. It was simple logic to me, but I did what I thought was necessary. I began crying heavily than before as I lifted the cold steel chamber against my head.
The beast clawed at my chest and nearly threw the gun from my hand. It then formed its hand in an impaling manner, but before it could touch me, I pulled the trigger. (Now to all of you readers: I know that a person can't narrate that they pulled the trigger, but I could find no way to end the story…so sorry for the poor writing guys.)