1 Prologue
Around four or so I awoke to poundings coming from the second floor. Looking out into the stormy weather I could just make out the figure of a man, it was moving slowing towards the door. Inside looking out, like a bird in a cage. I waited for
the cat to snatch me up. The pounding on the top floor grew louder and louder as I realized that they were making there way into the house. A mixture of feelings of sorrow and anger filled me as I finally realized that there was only one thing to do. I walked into my living room with its plush white carpets and green drapes over to my fireplace. It was now or never. Taking hold of my grandfathers single barrel shotgun, down into the cellar I rushed to where I've kept the shells and prepared for the worst. Coming back up the wooden stairs the sounds of shattering glass filled the stale air. It, whatever it was, had found a way in. Looking out of my back door into the pouring rain I saw nothing, a relief to my tired eyes. Slowly opening the door I took a quick look to the left and to the right then with a final burst of energy ran as fast as I could to my truck. Starting the engine, I saw that one of them was in front of my truck, it had to be the monster that killed Tim. Pushing the pedal to the medal I ran over this thing, I didn't have time to think. Driving, it still took what seemed hours to realize what had happened to my friend, the whole city, and me.
It all started years ago. There was this mansion some company built, when I was a boy that my friend Tim and I would hang out by. It was your typical mansion, huge windows, expensive decorations, and dull brown paint. All fun and games till this company moved into mansion. When they moved in they spent many hours doing something inside. Everything was kept secret. There was this one man that would come and leave every day, even on weekends. We would make stories about how he was an old mad scientist. He lived there and performed experiments on people who were lured into the mansion out of curiosity. He discovered a way to turn people into monsters who would steal little boys and girls that were shown missing in the paper. One summer day Tim was over my house and we had noting to do. Walking around the neighborhood we past the mansion. With its dark brown paint and steel bars over the windows the mansion stood on top of a mile of burnt out grassy land. Looking through the metal bars of the gate that had been placed around the perimeter we saw the old man. He seemed to have finished his work and was heading home.
"Tim, look he's gone." I said eagerly, "Lets see if we can get into the old mansion!" Tim looked at me with a blank stare. He wasn't as excited as I was. In fact he was terrified of it. How he was so terrified of this mansion I didn't no know. All I knew was that one-day as the man was leaving the mansion Tim had gone on his own. Dared by many kids, and encouraged by his own curiosity he entered the mansion and came out traumatized.
Tim turned his head away and said "John, believe me you don't want to know what's in there." I suddenly sensed the same thing Tim did and gave up. There was always tomorrow.
Years later when we were in high school there was a report on the news that the very same mansion that we grew up around had exploded! This news had Tim in relief. No one knew how or why it happened, it just did. Some said it was that kooky old man. He had gone to far and had to destroy his experiments that had over run his mansion. Only month's later strange things began to happen. People, it was people I knew that were disappearing. Reports of what seemed to be men with no skin attacking people in alleys. What used to be a simple city, filled with the safety and ingenuity of the people who have built it had become a place to fear being alone, afraid that the things would attack at any moment. I myself never when out alone. Then again I never needed anyone because Tim was always next-door. Even walking with Tim we would always take the main streets making sure to be by large groups. Thing became weirder and weirder till one day, odd enough it was about noon, walking from the supermarket Tim and I saw an old bum laying on the curve of the sidewalk. He had a hat, gas station shirt, and long jeans that had many holes. Curious, we walked over and Tim flipped his hat off. The sounds of crackling bones were heard as the old man rose, moaning.
"Sorry man, I just wanted to see if you were ok", Tim said, the man still kept of walking toward us. "What's wrong" I said, but no response. The man grabbed my arm twisting and pulling it towards him. Well at this point I was freaked out so I whipped my hand and ran as far as I could away from this creep.
Catching my breath I had seen that Tim had followed me. "What the hell was his problem, it was like he was a walking skeleton or something!" I said.
Tim began to walk like Frankenstein's monster and said "Yea, he must have been a zombie out for your brains!" he sarcastically said. I was really pissed off, "Stop it!" I said as I hit Tim with my hand, "There was definitely something wrong with that guy!" Tim saw the expression on my face and he stopped immediately. Just as I had calmed down I felt something gripping my arm. Looking I saw it was a hand, still gripping my arm like it was attached to a body. Screaming I pried the cold hand off my arm. That was it. I stayed inside, only to come out to go next door to Tim's. Days passed by and it had gotten worse. Zombies, as they seemed to appear, were running a muck in our city. Tim in a desperate measure tried to get from his house to mine. His parents hadn't come home for a week now; afraid for his own life he felt it safer that we take this together. He called early in the morning so I had time to unboard my back door. Stepping outside on the back porch looking down felt like looking into a tank full of tiger sharks that haven't been fed for weeks. Listing for any signs of danger I gave Tim the ok. He opened his porch door and quietly walked to his fence. Tiptoeing over to the ladder I had laid for him to climb. Looking out into the pine trees in my backyard I realized something was climbing down the pine trees. I screamed for Tim to run but it was too late. It had begun its short journey to Tim. Tim, not thinking ran under my porch where I heard him screaming. Soon came this loud terrifying screech following a sorrowful calm. Walking back inside my house I had thought all hope was lost. My best friend, my parents, everyone was gone. To make things worse the electricity went out. A terrible thunderstorm started. It was like I was being punished for something terrible that I did. I didn't know what to think. I walked into my room, and fell into a deep sleep.
Around four or so I awoke to poundings coming from the second floor. Looking out into the stormy weather I could just make out the figure of a man, it was moving slowing towards the door. Inside looking out, like a bird in a cage. I waited for
the cat to snatch me up. The pounding on the top floor grew louder and louder as I realized that they were making there way into the house. A mixture of feelings of sorrow and anger filled me as I finally realized that there was only one thing to do. I walked into my living room with its plush white carpets and green drapes over to my fireplace. It was now or never. Taking hold of my grandfathers single barrel shotgun, down into the cellar I rushed to where I've kept the shells and prepared for the worst. Coming back up the wooden stairs the sounds of shattering glass filled the stale air. It, whatever it was, had found a way in. Looking out of my back door into the pouring rain I saw nothing, a relief to my tired eyes. Slowly opening the door I took a quick look to the left and to the right then with a final burst of energy ran as fast as I could to my truck. Starting the engine, I saw that one of them was in front of my truck, it had to be the monster that killed Tim. Pushing the pedal to the medal I ran over this thing, I didn't have time to think. Driving, it still took what seemed hours to realize what had happened to my friend, the whole city, and me.
It all started years ago. There was this mansion some company built, when I was a boy that my friend Tim and I would hang out by. It was your typical mansion, huge windows, expensive decorations, and dull brown paint. All fun and games till this company moved into mansion. When they moved in they spent many hours doing something inside. Everything was kept secret. There was this one man that would come and leave every day, even on weekends. We would make stories about how he was an old mad scientist. He lived there and performed experiments on people who were lured into the mansion out of curiosity. He discovered a way to turn people into monsters who would steal little boys and girls that were shown missing in the paper. One summer day Tim was over my house and we had noting to do. Walking around the neighborhood we past the mansion. With its dark brown paint and steel bars over the windows the mansion stood on top of a mile of burnt out grassy land. Looking through the metal bars of the gate that had been placed around the perimeter we saw the old man. He seemed to have finished his work and was heading home.
"Tim, look he's gone." I said eagerly, "Lets see if we can get into the old mansion!" Tim looked at me with a blank stare. He wasn't as excited as I was. In fact he was terrified of it. How he was so terrified of this mansion I didn't no know. All I knew was that one-day as the man was leaving the mansion Tim had gone on his own. Dared by many kids, and encouraged by his own curiosity he entered the mansion and came out traumatized.
Tim turned his head away and said "John, believe me you don't want to know what's in there." I suddenly sensed the same thing Tim did and gave up. There was always tomorrow.
Years later when we were in high school there was a report on the news that the very same mansion that we grew up around had exploded! This news had Tim in relief. No one knew how or why it happened, it just did. Some said it was that kooky old man. He had gone to far and had to destroy his experiments that had over run his mansion. Only month's later strange things began to happen. People, it was people I knew that were disappearing. Reports of what seemed to be men with no skin attacking people in alleys. What used to be a simple city, filled with the safety and ingenuity of the people who have built it had become a place to fear being alone, afraid that the things would attack at any moment. I myself never when out alone. Then again I never needed anyone because Tim was always next-door. Even walking with Tim we would always take the main streets making sure to be by large groups. Thing became weirder and weirder till one day, odd enough it was about noon, walking from the supermarket Tim and I saw an old bum laying on the curve of the sidewalk. He had a hat, gas station shirt, and long jeans that had many holes. Curious, we walked over and Tim flipped his hat off. The sounds of crackling bones were heard as the old man rose, moaning.
"Sorry man, I just wanted to see if you were ok", Tim said, the man still kept of walking toward us. "What's wrong" I said, but no response. The man grabbed my arm twisting and pulling it towards him. Well at this point I was freaked out so I whipped my hand and ran as far as I could away from this creep.
Catching my breath I had seen that Tim had followed me. "What the hell was his problem, it was like he was a walking skeleton or something!" I said.
Tim began to walk like Frankenstein's monster and said "Yea, he must have been a zombie out for your brains!" he sarcastically said. I was really pissed off, "Stop it!" I said as I hit Tim with my hand, "There was definitely something wrong with that guy!" Tim saw the expression on my face and he stopped immediately. Just as I had calmed down I felt something gripping my arm. Looking I saw it was a hand, still gripping my arm like it was attached to a body. Screaming I pried the cold hand off my arm. That was it. I stayed inside, only to come out to go next door to Tim's. Days passed by and it had gotten worse. Zombies, as they seemed to appear, were running a muck in our city. Tim in a desperate measure tried to get from his house to mine. His parents hadn't come home for a week now; afraid for his own life he felt it safer that we take this together. He called early in the morning so I had time to unboard my back door. Stepping outside on the back porch looking down felt like looking into a tank full of tiger sharks that haven't been fed for weeks. Listing for any signs of danger I gave Tim the ok. He opened his porch door and quietly walked to his fence. Tiptoeing over to the ladder I had laid for him to climb. Looking out into the pine trees in my backyard I realized something was climbing down the pine trees. I screamed for Tim to run but it was too late. It had begun its short journey to Tim. Tim, not thinking ran under my porch where I heard him screaming. Soon came this loud terrifying screech following a sorrowful calm. Walking back inside my house I had thought all hope was lost. My best friend, my parents, everyone was gone. To make things worse the electricity went out. A terrible thunderstorm started. It was like I was being punished for something terrible that I did. I didn't know what to think. I walked into my room, and fell into a deep sleep.
