The Forest of Hands and Teeth Fan fiction
A/N: okay on to the second chapter, hope its alright and keeps in with the first (:
oh and DISCLAIMER: almost none of this is mine... Credit to Carrie Ryan (: (she is amazing)
Chapter Two
Moaning. It is the first thing to greet my ears as I slip abruptly back into consciousness. Even though you hear it all the time it never quite goes away, never fades until you don't even notice it, it is an incessant noise that jars your senses. Screaming at you to run away as fast and far as you can; even though you know you're safe behind the fences.
I pick myself slowly off the rough ground rubbing a crick in my neck, and searching for my canteen of water to sooth my parched throat. I sip at the cold water trying not to drink too much, knowing that I may not find a water source for days. I quickly packed up my blanket, folding the thin threadbare material that has faded to a pale yellow just a shadow of its former brilliant orange and packing it away in my satchel with my other meagre possessions.
I continue on my way always looking ahead, not willing to face the fear that if I look in to the groups of undead I will see someone I recognise and I don't want to see them as one of the unconsecrated. Without recognition of who I am or even care just and unsatisfiable want to infect where there used to be a soul. I prefer to remember them as they were. Even if it is painful.
By midday I have gone down two gates, choosing split sections at random, I don't care, it not like I know where I'm going, not like I have anyone to search for. I have gone in so many circles accidently passing through desolated villages again and again because it is so hard to find your way and most of the gates and paths look the same. I don't even care anymore, I used to get frustrated that I was getting nowhere but long since given up on going anywhere. Now here I am for the third time today standing in front of 3 gates. But something is different. Something is not right. I feel my hand slip down to my hip where my knife is. Ready.
Then I see it, one of the gates, the one in the middle isn't fully closed and in fact it is almost half open. This makes my heart start pumping faster, I glance around on alert but nothing is out of the ordinary. I walk right up to the open gate inspecting it and I start noticing little details that I didn't before. The path is less over grown, the weeds and bushed don't crowd it like they do the other paths. The ground is pressed flat and looks used, like people walk this path. The gate isn't as rusty and screechy when I pull it closed. The thing about this gate is that it looks used and used means people.
I feel a spark, in my chest. Warm and glowing and as I race through the gate it keeps building in me growing bigger and brighter. I race along the path not having to worry about roots, weeds or thorns in my way. I stop dead in my tracks when I see it.
The gate.
It leads into a village. I can see from the shape of the fence. Curving and circling as it Safely encloses the village but as with every other fence it is poorly upheld, sagging and broken in places only to be scrappily patched up. I make me think how could we have ever thought to keep the unconsecrated out how fragile our existence is. I look beyond it hoping to see people, anyone. But all I see is the desolation of every other town I find. That can't be right I think about all the differences and keep going still alert. I enter through the gate, like the one before it slides smoothly open. This I realise, looking around is no village, but a town. The buildings are larger, built more solidly and are grand in their designs. The streets are paved and there is a playground but it's all empty.
Feeling tears threatening I shut my eyes. I should have known. The fire of hope in my chest gone, leaving only a burnt out place just as empty and desolate as the town. I wander through the streets, numb and tired not going anywhere. I just keep moving.
I'll stay here for a while I decide, barely glancing at the magnificent structures surrounding me. I stop outside a large stone building, its front lined with sturdy colonnades and guarded by stone lions. But it wasn't the mighty sight I imagine it once was, the colonnades were chipped and cracked, covered in dirty, crude scrawl and coloured by the elements and time. The lions, once majestic and beautiful that proudly stood watch, unable to help but only watch as the world fell around them, that's how I imagined them anyway. Now covered in dirt and missing parts, they seemed lonely even though there were two of them. I slowly climbed the steps and slipped past the lions to the thick wooden door. Drawing my knife I slowly press through the door. Seeing the inside I almost drop my knife. Quickly regaining my grip I venture further into the building, closing the door behind me.
The space is open and the ceiling high, but in the large space is shelf upon shelf of books, each case containing them was about twice my height and the rows were so long that I could hardly see the end in the little light that was streaming through the higher up windows. I had only come across very few books in my life, but each time I found one I would read it because it reminded me of my mother reading to me and teaching me to read. I always loved books, that is why she read to me as a child, because I liked to hear the stories and adventure that were on the old yellowed pages.
Closing the distance to the nearest bookcase I picked up a small hard covered book. The front had worn away and the binding was very loose and coming apart some pages barely attached to the spine. Flipping open the cover carefully I read the title: Alice's adventures in Wonderland. Beneath the title was a small fade picture of a girl in a dress falling down a hole following a rabbit. Still clutching the book I made my way down the aisles looking at the old dusty tomes that surrounded me and letting my fingers trail carefully across their spines, reading the title as I passed though there were few that I could actually see. Eventually I was at the back of the place, that when I found something peculiar. There was a ladder going up the wall into darkness. But it wasn't any old dusty ladder made years ago that was falling apart now as all the ones I had ever seen were. It was made of recently cut wood Quickly looking around I stowed the book in my satchel and began climbing the ladder testing my weight each time of the rungs. Surprisingly no of them gave way and I made it to the top without incident. I passed through some relatively thick curtains entering the space that lay beyond.
It was a small room, lit only a window on the other side of the room. It had two small beds covered in blankets and boxes of items dotted around, and a table with two chairs beside it. In the corner there was a small fireplace with ashes and some wood piled next to it. The thing that kept entering my thoughts was that like the path and the gates, the room looked used, lived in.
Crossing to the fire I held my hand above the ashes, there was still heat radiating from them which meant there had been a fire. Just then I heard two voices from below cut through the absolute silence easily and carried up into the small space where I was as they echoed around the huge building. Gripping my knife I backed into the corner of the room until my back was pressed into the cold stone and I could go back no further. What if they were terrible people, what if they hurt me? Questions and doubts fly through my mind in a whirlwind of panic. Maybe finding people wasn't a good idea. I have been fine on my own.
"Did you find anything?" a young and smooth but deep voice asked. I held on to the reasonable tone in the guy's voice and hoping against all hope that they would be friendly.
"Not much, I think we might have to move on soon." A second voice answered in a tired tone. Well more like exhausted, you could hear it as each word stretched out in a worn-out monotone, so lacking in energy and emotion.
"I know I have been thinking that for a while." The first voice replied as I heard him step onto the ladder and begin to climb. The other one didn't respond but I wasn't concentrating on that. I was more worried about the fast approaching man coming up the ladder. The curtains rustled and swayed as I tried desperately to blend into the wall and my body tensed ready. A boy with a ruffled mane of light brown hair stepped into the room crossing straight over to one of the beds and depositing a bag on it. Sighing he turned and saw me. His eyes winding in shock and his stance turned ready to fight if necessary.
"Hi?" I said nervously, my voice cracking. I was trembling I could feel every fibre of my being quivering in a nervous terror. My heart ached though he looked familiar and reminded me of a boy from the village where I grew up though if it was because he actually was or just because he was an alive human I'm not sure.
"What are you doing here? And who are you?" the boy asked his smooth voice stern and commanding. As he takes in my hand poised on my knife he eyes narrowing in instant suspicion. I instantly drop my hand leaving it dangling by my side along with my other hand, it makes me feel unprepared and weak but I have to let him know I'm not a threat.
"I'm Brooklyn" I say the name just as unfamiliar on my lips as it is on my ears. It's been year since I have heard anyone say it let alone myself. I swallow down the lump in my throat and continue speaking. "I was just looking in the building and I saw this loft and…" I trail off unsure of what to say next I haven't interacted with people in the last 7 years and I'm lonely. The guy Runs his hand through his hair messing it up making me want to go over and fix it for some inexplicable reason. I don't though because he is standing with his muscular arms crossed over his chest and his mouth in a hard line which is probably about as uninviting as you get. He is strong healthy and fit, I can see it I the ease of his movements and If it came to a fight he would win easily but I can see in his dark slate blue eyes a kindness, just like my mother and father had in theirs. I can't help but feel protected but maybe that is just because of finally finding other people. I should probably feel terrified and well I do, but it is mixed up with so many other emotions that I hardly notice it.
"Alex who are you talking to?" the other man calls from the other side of the curtain questioningly, interest and surprise evident in his voice. Alex looks towards the curtain for only a split second before focusing his attention back on me as if he could dare take his eyes of me for fear that I might do something crazy or sneaky. What does he think I'd do, he obviously has the upper hand, more like he had the whole deck actually. The other guy walks in sweeping the curtains aside.
I can't breathe. Can't speak. It's my brother standing before me.
A/N: Yay chapter two (: . I hope you enjoyed it and please review to tell me what you think (:
tell me if there is anything i could do so i can improve thanks