Familiar Hauntings

Chapter Two

Demi tossed over again in her bed, before throwing the pillow over her head in aggravation. There were people yelling or screaming in the halls of the McCulloch dormitory, and it was almost twelve. Then again, there was always noise at twelve at night. Demi once again found that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't sleep, and her thoughts began to drift back to the past day, back to the conversation with Devon and Lori after dinner.

"So, what do you think is going on? Seriously Devon, let me know."

"I'm not sure, Demi."

"Come on, you have to be leaning towards something here."

"…I think they're looking for someone on campus."

"Like a killer or something?"

"I don't know. They don't want them to escape. Why else would they use such force in a situation like this?"

"It must be pretty dangerous."

"Yeah."

Demi frowned. He was right. Unmarked white vans had surrounded the entire campus. Maybe two hundred or more. The men were armed with some type of machine guns, and they had voiced their intentions of taking fatal force against escapees if necessary. But Devon didn't know any more than she did. He was only speculating. Maybe she was looking to him for resolution? She wasn't sure. She confused herself further, as she realized that a part of her was comforted by Devon's suggested answer. Why would she be comforted by something like that? Were her expectations worse than his answer deep down in her heart? She shifted again.

"Well, promise us that you'll stick by us, Devon."

"Yeah, Lori, you know I will."

Devon did comfort her. He held a sincere quality in the things he said that other people normally lacked. She knew he liked her, too, which always made her wonder if he did things for her because she was his friend, or…

"You two are more special to me than you know. I'd do everything I could to keep you two safe. I mean that."

…Maybe he just wanted her to notice him. That wasn't the problem. She had noticed him, but she just didn't know if they had a future together, like that. Maybe they did, who was she to guess? And then there was Eric, who also openly liked her. There was a hint of jealousy in each of the boy's eyes when the other was with her.

"Nothing will take you two from me."

She smiled. Even though she wouldn't admit it, she liked that two guys were unconsciously fighting over her. Maybe it was wrong for her to feel that way, but she couldn't deny her emotions deep down. It was for that reason that she was equally jealous of Lori, for being so close to him. Why did she feel that way, if she didn't want to be with him? She was confused, and audibly sighed into her pillow, which was still placed over her head.

A banging on the door shook her to the present.

She looked over at her roommate, who must have been out regardless, as she moved not an inch, even though the rappings got progressively louder.

"Hello?" She said cautiously, thinking it to be some drunken guy trying to enter the wrong room.

The banging stopped. She sat up in bed, and listened. It was completely silent, except for the yells and moans, but this was college, after all. She exhaled a deep breath, and lay back down on her pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly, the beating on her door returned, followed by another pair of hands that started to rattle the knob. She jumped up to make sure it was locked. When she was satisfied that it was, she peered through the peephole in the door--And screamed.

****

Devon quickened his pace to Anderson hall, his home. He had caught a bad feeling as he was sitting out next to the campus pond, and his sixth sense seemed to tell him to go back inside. He had spotted a few individuals walking around the campus, apparently drunk, as their steps were taken with an awkward gait. He fumbled with his wallet as he fished the ID card out of the side pocket. He entered his digit code, and the electronic lock slid open with a metallic resonation. He pushed the door open, and began to go up the stairs to the third floor. However, as he turned to the stairs he almost slipped and fell on his rear. "Not the 'piss on the stairs gag' again…" he thought, as he looked down. He was mortified to see that he was standing in a puddle of blood. Fighting a quick wave of unexpected nausea, he climbed the stairs, following the trail of blood. He poked his head through the hallway, and managed a stiff "hello" before continuing down the hall. There were a few people on the far end of the west wing hall, just standing there. He could only see their silhouettes, but he knew there was something not right about the atmosphere.

"What's going on here?"

He heard a faint moaning coming from within many of the rooms, which seemed to be pretty normal, but there was something that bothered him about all this, that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He rounded the final corner, and saw someone who he recognized as his friend, Jimmy who only lived a few doors away. His back was to Devon, and he was looking out into the streetlights below.

"Hey, Jimmy, what's up?"

He got no response.

"Jimmy, you okay man?"

With each step, he began to become more nervous about confronting him.

"Jimmy."

He made no effort to turn to face Devon, but Devon could hear his jaw begin to work and smack loudly.

"Hey," Devon put his hand on his shoulder, but was disgusted to feel it shift beneath his touch, as if there were only liquid between the skin and bone. Jimmy slowly began to turn around, and Devon was horrified at what he saw. In the dim lighting, Devon could make out ragged flesh that hung off his cheekbones, exposing the aforementioned with a glistening white. His eye sockets were wide and it appeared as if his eyelids had been torn off, while the pupils were clouded over. They appeared to be almost as white as the rest of the eye itself. His entire body was covered in blood, some his, some not. Devon took a step back in fear. Jimmy's hands reached for Devon's neck, the limp flesh clinging to the bone. There was a deep gash in his left arm, and Devon could see the flexing muscle and ghostly white structuring beneath it. He slowly stumbled towards Devon, jaws working. He let out a soft, bloodthirsty moan.

Devon couldn't speak. He tried to yell, but he lacked the willpower. Or the courage.

He took a few more steps backwards, and turned and broke into a full sprint in the opposite direction, only to hit another person from behind. The impact managed to get a yell out of Devon, as he looked and saw that this person almost literally had no face. It had been torn off, or eaten off, Devon wasn't sure. As the faceless man fell to the ground, his desperate hands grabbed at Devon, needing nothing worse than to take him down with him. He grabbed the short sleeve of Devon's sweater, tearing it when he pulled away. He dashed to his room, and threw open the door, and he saw his roommate, Edward standing in the darkness absently. As he turned on the light, Edward slowly turned towards him, and it was then that Devon finally saw the extent of the transformation. "Oh my God…" He cried as his former friend began to wobble towards him. He pushed the undead away, his palms sinking somewhat into the rotting flesh. The zombie groaned in aggravation, as it hit the floor with a sickening 'thud.' He ran to the phone, and began to dial '911,' before realizing that all the phone line was dead. His mind working frantically, he grabbed his baseball bat in the corner of his room, before taking one last look at Edward with sad, confused eyes, before slamming the door behind him. He sprinted down the stairs again, this time to the second floor, and to Lori's room.

****

"What the…?!" Eric yelled in surprise as his decaying roommate stood above his bed, jaws clenching together, ready to feast. Eric kicked him hard in the stomach, which knocked the undead roommate over with a groan. Slowly it began to awkwardly pick itself of the floor, when Eric kicked it in the face, and it fell back to the floor again. He fumbled with the door lock as he cursed loudly. The monster began to slowly pick itself off the ground, as Eric finally managed to fling the door open and escape from the room. He made a mad dash for the exit to his dorm, Bailey hall, dodging all the wandering murderers in the hallway. His mind was not working anymore; survival was all he could think of. The fear was intense, panic completely consuming his soul. With that, he broke out of the dorm, and stopped running on the front steps, clueless as to what to do next. His mind tried its hardest to think rationally and logically, but nothing came. He couldn't fight the urge to just run away. Finally, he sprinted off the steps, towards the unmarked white vans that surrounded the university.

****

The beats got louder and louder. Without end. She knew what was here. She knew what she had to face. She strapped on her boot knife, and straightened her belt. She took a deep breath as she walked to the dresser.

"I hoped I'd never have to use you again. I'm sorry."

She pulled out an elaborate handgun from beneath her undergarments, along with a couple of clips. She held the length of the gun against the side of her face, the same way a mother might caress a child, as she loaded it.

"God help me."

She knew this time she would be shooting people she knew, laughed with, sat in class with, cared about. Loved. This time, the psychological scars would cut deeper than before.

With impressive force, she kicked down her door, knocking the two undead away. With a firm and resolute stride, she walked down her hallway, towards the masses of the shells of people she once knew. Three sharp gunshots rang through the air.

"Jeff. Julie. Michael."

Two more.

"Ariana. Lynn."

Each shot, clean and painless. Straight through the brain. The unfortunate did not suffer.

"At least it's better than the alternative."

A tear rolled down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away. She heard screaming coming from down the hall, before it was cut short by an unexpected demise. In the back of her mind, Claire knew that it was someone she had known as well. In response, she quickened her pace to a run, pushing aside the slow and dense remnants of her friends. She kicked open Bethani's door, and pointed the barrel around her room, shooting Beth's roommate, Erica, right between the eyes.

"Beth! Are you here?"

She heard crying in the closet. She saw the front of the closet door, and saw nail marks and bite marks in the wood, where Bethani's friend had tried desperately to get to her. She opened it, and saw Beth cradled in the corner, tears steaming down her delicate face. She looked up at Claire as fresh, new, slightly different tears formed.

"Claire? Oh, thank God you're here!" Beth leapt up and wrapped her arms around her neck, nearly crushing her.

"I'm really glad you're safe, Beth…" Claire looked for the right words to tell her, but none came. Bethani released her grip on Claire, and allowed her to continue. "Let's save all these hugs and stuff for when we get out of this, okay?" Beth nodded silently, still wiping away tears.

"What's going on, Claire…?" Beth said sheepishly.

"I'll tell you when we get everyone together, okay?"

Beth nodded, confused, but unwilling to ask further questions at the moment. They walked out of her room, and towards the glass double doors. A female form pounded at the glass, smearing blood on the glass. As if it had sensed the two girls behind it, the figure turned around. The Resident Advisor for the second floor. Claire raised her gun slowly, as the undead woman looked at the end of the barrel, completely puzzled. Claire pulled the trigger. The bullet went through the woman's forehead, and exited out the back, shattering one of the glass doors. Claire looked down at the figure, now twitching in a pool of blood on the ground. Somewhere inside, she was dying, too, with each shot that stopped the life functions of her friends. But she would push those feelings down and away, until they got through this. Beth stared wide-eyed at the smoking gun Claire held in her hand, registering it only in one part of her brain. The trauma was affecting her ability to even think. Beth shook her head, in an attempt to clear out her consciousness. She opened the broken door, and exited Maynard dorm. She and Claire began to walk towards the center of the campus, and her friends' meeting place. The Centennial square.

"Please be okay, everyone."

****

Jim wiped his eyes as he pulled into a gas station in the town of Amarillo, Texas. He stopped at a pump, and began pumping gas. He leaned against his blue Ford truck, and reflected on his situation.

"You better not be dead down there, Devon. If you are, then it's going to suck being down there a lot more without having you around. Come on Jim, maybe you're just being paranoid. Maybe nothing's happened down there, yet. Yeah, that's bullshit."

Jim took a cigarette out of his pack and lit up; something he knew was very unsafe to do around gasoline. But then, Jim Bowman was one not to worry about such things.

"Nah, you're not dead. Just wait. We'll meet up, and then we'll kick some zombie ass. Just don't make me do it alone."

Jim glanced at the high-powered shotguns and handguns that he had resting on the seat. He then glanced down and looked at his watch.

"Damn, Twelve-thirty. It'll probably be almost four by the time I get down there."

The pumps safety latch switched off, and the handle snapped back with a dull thud. He put it back on the pump, and threw his cigarette to the ground, as he went in to the store.

****

"This way!" Devon screamed as the staircase to the north exit of the dormitory was blocked by at least twenty of the affected people. He ran down a long, dimly lit hallway that ran the entire length of the dorm. Lori followed closely behind him, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Every couple of seconds or so Devon looked behind him to make sure that she was still there, and that no one else had attacked her. He turned his back one second to look into another of his friends' rooms, and one of the horrible beings lunged at her and bit her shoulder, tearing a large piece of flesh and muscle with it. It turned out it was the very friend he was looking for. He had struck it on the side of the face with his bat, caving in the zombie's cranium and spraying stagnate blood over the bat, and his hands. He had apologized to her for his mistake at least ten times, his voice was frantic over her screaming. She was still whimpering, even now, and it attracted the frenzied creatures, as if they could sense the fresh blood.

"Devon, just leave me! I'll get you killed!"

He didn't hear her. Devon hit one in the chest, slamming it against the wall, as he was balancing himself for another attack, another female zombie that was residing inside the adjacent room lunged at him, grabbing the barrel of his bat. It flung him against the wall, the impact dizzying his vision for a second or two. The astounding power of the clumsy freaks amazed him, and scared him. He swung the bat away from the clutches of the zombie, yanking off its arms at the elbows. He looked at the arms still gripping the bat, and at the zombie, it seemingly confused at losing its body parts. Devon took the time to grab Lori's good arm and bolt down the rest of the hallway, to the second set of stairs. He looked down the staircase, the hollow chamber echoing with the growling sounds of the undead masses. The lights flickered on and off, and he wondered how much power they would have before everything was dark. The thought of dealing with these things in darkness was unimaginable to him.

"They're everywhere…" He stated in disbelief. "We can't make it here, either."

"Devon…" Lori whimpered, as she pointed to the shuffling shadows of maybe ten to fifteen more zombies falling against the wall, wandering down the hall towards them, desperately needing them. The shadows were long, showing that they were still some distances away, but that wouldn't last long. The first of the zombies in the stairway turned towards the two frightened students, and began to amble up the steps after them. It had lacked the coordination to stay on its feet, however, and fell on both of its arms. An audible snap of breaking bone was heard, yet the zombie, seemingly unfazed, began to slowly crawl up the steps, putrid saliva escaping its lips as it looked up at them longingly.

"We're trapped Devon…" Lori said in defeat. Devon tensed in response, and gritted his teeth, knowing that his death was going to be particularly gory and painful. He gripped his bat with both hands, smashing the head of the first zombie coming up the stairs. "Well," he yelled, "we've got to try to get through them then!"

"There's too many!"

"I don't know what else to do!"

Lori's eyes lit up. "No! I know! The fire escape on the roof!" By this time, the first of the zombies from the hall was visible, someone Lori recognized as Rachel, who was once regarded to be one of the most beautiful girls on the campus. Now, that beauty was gone, an eye dangling out of its socket, her once full, and lush lips had been ripped off for the most part revealing bloodstained, yellow teeth, and her angelic, milky skin now a sickening shade of brown and grey. Her intestines hung from her abdomen, yet she seemed not to care, or notice for that matter. The only things that mattered to her anymore were the two conscious people standing in front of her. She moaned with anticipation, and Lori shuddered violently.

"The door is locked up there, though!" The lights flickered off, and all was dark for a couple of seconds, as fear welled up inside Devon. Like a blessing from God, they lit up the area once again, and went back to the now usual flickering state.

"Geez…" He was tired, the adrenaline beginning to run thin in his body. "Okay…let's try it anyway."

The two ran up the short flight of stairs, where there were no zombies yet, thankfully. The both of them pressed hard against the door, and Lori yelped in pain, due to her shoulder.

"Are you okay?!"

"I can't do it, Devon! It hurts too much!" Lori twisted up her face in despair. The zombies began to filter in from the hall now, almost too many to count. Thirty of them, maybe forty were filing from the hall and lower staircase, all coming for them. The first of them started up the first step, only a mere ten feet away.

"Stand back!" Devon yelled, as he began to swing the bat near the locking mechanism. The lights flickered on and off again, contrasting between the near blinding light of the white stairway, and the near-pitch darkness of the night. A small red light would turn on in the darkness, giving just enough light to see Lori's small frame, her head moving nervously from the staircase to her best friend. Devon could hear an electronic buzzing from inside the door; no doubt it was the electricity charging the magnetic holds of the lock. Devon decided that when the lights were off, that was his best time to break open the door. He struck the door again and again, denting the light material, but otherwise doing nothing to it at all. He looked back and saw a huge pile of shifting bodies only some five feet away. Luckily, the desperate forms were frenzied, clawing and climbing over each other to reach their prize at the top of the staircase. It impeded their progress substantially.

Devon continued to beat the door. The lights flickered off again, much to Devon's mixed emotions, and he hit the exit with increasing fury and panic.

"Hurry it up, Devon…"

When he had exhausted himself, the door still remained intact. "It still won't open!" He screamed.

Lori's whimpering had regressed to short and shallow breaths. She began to hyperventilate, the darkness and the situation getting the better of her in the form of short, ragged gasps. "They're…almost here…Devon…Hurry…" The words were labored and weak.

Devon listened to the flowing electricity still powering the lock in the darkness, and he was confused. He stared at the little red light for a couple of seconds, before it dawned upon him. "Just a bit longer!" He yelled, not necessarily to Lori, as he smashed the little white box the light belonged to. Sparks showered the two in a blinding flash of light, before returning to the vacant darkness. The sound of the clamoring zombies was deafening, the stench of death nearly overwhelming. Devon could hear the slaps of flat palms hitting the surface the two survivors were standing on. One icy hand gripped Lori's leg with crushing power, and began to use it to pull up its following bulk. Lori instinctively kicked at the unseen terror, and backed against the side of the door, sucking in air wildly.

"Much more of this," Devon thought, "and it's all over…" He hit the white box once more, and satisfied that it was no longer operational, he began to slam against the battered door. "Lori!" He yelled as he hit the door again with his weight. "Stay with me! Let me know you're still okay!" She didn't answer outside of her wild gasping, and he repeated his words. "Come on, Lori! Don't do this, we're going to make it! We're going to-!" He gasped audibly as he felt something tugging forcefully on his pant leg, threatening to pull him down into the masses below. He struck the door once more, and it flew open, the fresh outside air rushing up to meet him. He landed hard against the small pebbled surface of the outside roof, the small rocks digging into his left arm. "Lori, come on!" He screamed. He couldn't see her, as he was halfway outside, and he began to fear for her life. All she could hear were her desperate attempts to breathe.

"Lori! Out the door! Now!!" He cried to her, as he heard her shuffling body slowly moving towards the outside portal. She tripped over his form, still laying on the ground, before frantically rolling away from him, managing to hit him on the side of the face with her fist as she did so. He scrambled to shut the door, not satisfied until he heard the sound of the door latch catching. Almost immediately, he heard the sounds of scratching coming from the other side of the door, along with the muffled otherworldly groans. Devon knew the door wouldn't last. From the light of the distant street lamps, he saw Lori's curled form on the ground, shivering wildly, her fingers desperately trying to cover her ears.

He moved his jaw around in an attempt to subside the pain, as he leaned to her, putting a hand on her undamaged shoulder. She shrugged it away violently, with a panicked shriek.

"Lori…It's me…We're okay…" He placed his hand on her again, and she still flinched, yet made no effort to pull away. He dropped his bloody weapon on the ground next to him, and took her into his arms, in an attempt to comfort her. She was unresponsive at first, but eventually, she wrapped her trembling arms around him, and began to weep bitterly into his chest. He rocked her slowly, repeating the words 'it's okay, it's okay' over and over again. His eyes never left the vision of the beaten door. He waited for the moment when it busted back open, and then the nightmare would start all over again. He slowly began to lose himself to the recesses of his mind, his consciousness leaving the roof of Anderson Hall to go someplace safer, as his body stayed. There was a long silence between the two of them as Lori slowly began to recover from the incident.

"Devon," she finally said. When he did not answer, she repeated it again. "Devon?"

"Yeah," his voice was strained and tired. It felt to Lori that she was almost holding him up.

"Are we okay, Devon?"

There was another silence. She was about to call his name again before he answered. "I…I don't know." Devon slowly turned to her, with an unreadable and distant expression in his eyes. She hugged him again, and his eyes turned to the bottoms of her pants, and the bloody handprints that had lined them from the knees down. He merely stared, and said nothing. Words took too much effort for him. It was too hard to find the words he wanted to use. He was silent, simply staring at her bloodied pants. For a minute, it seemed to him that he forgot what he had just been though. More likely he was in the process of trying to forget.

"Thank you, Devon, for not leaving me."

Another silence.

"So," Lori continued, "where now?"

He breathed in deeply, not taking his eyes from her pants. Finally, he blinked his eyes a couple of times, his mind seemingly hurtling towards the situation at hand once again. His body jumped, as if awakening from a bad dream.

"Are you okay, Devon?"

"I…I think so."

"Are you sure?"

He stared at the door again, noticing its vibrations from the force being exerted on the other side. "No." It was a simple statement, but he couldn't lie about how he felt.

Fear began to rear up inside her heart again, so she asked her previous question again, in attempts to give her something to think about besides the other side of the door. "Where do we go from here?"

He forced himself to think. "I…I think we should go to the Centennial Square. We always said that if something big happened here, and we couldn't find each other, we would go to the Centennial Square."

"What if no one else is there?"

He frowned at the possibility, and opened his mouth for some time before actually speaking, his trouble-laced words defying his fear. "Then we find them."

He picked himself and Lori up, and reached down to get his bat. He walked over towards the fire escape on weak knees. He lazily climbed over the side of the building, his feet touching the first step.

"Come on," he called over to Lori, "let's get out of here."

___________________