Hello everyone!
I'm so happy with where this story is going and that I completed a new chappie. Thanks alot to my new favorites and follows, as well as the reviews!
Plus, today's my birthday! So as a gift to yall, (reverse) I wrote a new chapter for Epiphany.
This chapter sheds a little more light. Just a little. Next chapter is gonna be where it's at!
Rated T for violence, racial slurs and language.
Special thanks to: SHENE CRYER, butterTARDIS36, Jessica. orr. 1884
Happy Reads!
Chapter 3: No Turning Back
Shane Walsh was supposed to be a police officer. Police officers were supposed to help out the needy, right?
Furiously wiping tears that slid down my cheeks, I heave in a shaky and heavy breath, then letting out a quick sigh.
Zenora, get it together, girl. You ain't no wimp or no punk. You been through way worse.
I snicker at my own self conscious. Of course I been through worse! I got shot for crying out loud! Twice.
Which was worst than the other? Being shot or being alone with no help or brains on where to go? Okay... maybe the being shot-part...
But, where the hell was I going to go? What the hell was I going to do? Maybe Shane left me because of that woman and her son... she-she was something else.
This Lori-woman gave me stank glares and such a cold attitude like I tried to kidnap her baby or something. And I ain't ever see her before in my life! Shane was an exception because his face seemed so familiar and this man named Rick... I don't remember a face to go along with that name but I do know I heard it somewhere before, adding to the fact that Shane kept hinting we had a past or something. It wasn't supposed to be you. It was supposed to be Rick.
I let more tears stream down my eyes as I crouch over on my knees, pulling blades of grass from their roots. It was no use in thinking about irrelevant people, now. I was all alone. Injured yet healed and worst of all, weird shit was happening up in the world.
I'm pushed far from my mind when the shuffling of something near me, added by cluster of deep growls caused me to fleetly rise up, my head snapping in the direction of where the noises were coming from.
Shit.
As if my situation with being shot, rescued by an asshole police officer who later stranded me and being alone couldn't get any worse, one of those crazy niggas like the old man attacking me and Shane at the hospital started creeping over.
And this nigga brought a friend along, too!
One of these "people" used to be a black man. I could tell from his dark, but ashy skin. His eyes were bulging from his head and they held the same soul-binding milky stare. Something made my stomach clench and that was the very fact that there was a giant hole pierced where his stomach should be. You could see the next yard and the big trees through it.
Botches of bruises and scars were sported all across his friend's face and exposed body. The Caucasian woman only wore a blue nightgown and dirty, white socks now tainted with more red; blood. I slowly stood up, shaking a bit at the way the two pairs of blurred, grey eyes stared at me.
Their arms slowly outstretching at the same, damn time and the way moans escaped from the back of their throats... it struck a sense of fear in me.
I manage a friendly smile at them."Heh," I laugh nervously, shaking my head as they inched slower to me and I continued to back up. "I-I don't want any trouble, so whatever you're on... keep it to yourself." I bellow to them.
As if they were deaf and didn't understand anything I said, they still kept walking towards me.
Taking a deep breath and tightly clutching the loose flaps of my hospital gown, I make my way up the three stone steps of the little white house belonging to the white woman, Lori.
What could happen to me now? Be arrested for trespassing on a white woman's property to seek shelter from two drugged out and severely injured people, slowly but menacingly chasing me? And they should be dead... Nobody and I mean nobody can survive a fucking hole up in they stomach.
I somehow make it to the opened, glass door and I race inside, shutting it behind me. After clicking the two locks in place, I slowly back up, when I see their faces pressed against the glass. Their breathes are hitched and their groans, moans, murmuring of a different language, whatever you want to call it! is drowning out in my ears. I can still hear it from the outside.
I feel like I can sigh in relief when the black man eases up and stumbles down the steps, away from the door but fuck... Thank God for blowing that light breeze and making it shiver up my spine. I whip my body around, gulping what felt like a giant baseball stuck in the back of my throat.
The backdoor was opened.
And that man, casually stepping over the other dead body in Lori's yard eyed me hungrily from afar.
People like this sure didn't let up, did they? As I wanted to take a step forward, the room seemed to stretch out longer and before I knew it, I figured it was too far of a distance. I had a better chance of being rescued than making it over to the other side of the house to lock the door and keep him from coming in.
I brace myself as his bare, dirty feet pittered and pattered across the grass, up the wooden steps of Lori's small back porch. The wooden stairs creeked with each foot placed on one and a part of his weight on a leg.
My breaths hitched as I was startled by the banging of what seemed like fists meeting glass.
I slowly turned around to see the white "woman" banging her clenched fists on the glass door. She bucked ger head against the glass as well, nipping her red stained teeth together as if she wanted to taste the air or something.
My heart beats were the only thing I heard right now. I found myself collapsing to the floor and looking up at the white ceilings, saying a little prayer in my head.
I was trapped and there was no way out. Cut off at every corner.
Regular POV
A lone tear slid down Zenora Brown's cheek as she let out what was thought to be her last breath.
The walker had made his way inside the house, walking towards her, his mouth opened and lips parted; the thing's breathing heavy and ragged from his fast, fluttering heart. His eyes read pure hunger.
As he was a short hall down from the light skinned female, she started to panic. Her eyes darted from the house in disarray, to the different objects placed at her disposal.
She knew she only had a limited amount of time as she scrambled to her feet, gulping when her eyes flickered to the aluminum baseball bat, once held by the brunette named Lori.
She crawled, scrambling over to the possible weapon, lodged in between a bookshelf near the front door where the other walker was banging various parts of her body against it.
She eyed the little crack made against the glass with wary eyes, quickly heaving the heavy weapon from it's place and holding it protectively in front of her.
Zenora stood up, one hand held at the tip of the baseball bat and the other at the end of it.
The walker now stood a foot away from her, his fingers twitching madly as he tried swinging an arm at her, to attack.
Zenora moved out of the way in time, before swinging the heavy bat into the empty stomach of the "man". He bent down from the blow, but slowly rose up as if it didn't phase him.
"What the fuck?!" Zenora sputtered out, swinging the bat once again, this time hitting his shoulder.
With another imminent groan, he landed into the frames of the white wall, a couple drops of blood staining against it. The walker was still up and running; this scared the light skinned woman.
She gulped when he slowly inched towards her, his head lunging forward and his mouth wide open as if he was trying to bite her.
The bite marks... She thought to herself, jumping out of harm's way.
The bat fell from of her hands and she grasped it once more, hurling a throw at his head.
A strange and blunt cracking sound was heard as the metal of the aluminum baseball bat collided with the side of his face; his head flew to the right and he stumbled back a far distance before letting out one final breath, dropping to the floor with a dull thud!.
All that was left of the scene was a mess of a badly mangled body and large amounts of blood.
Zenora's POV
That had to be one of the most intense fights I ever had in my life. It was either death or something even horrible than death! Thoughts in my head kept me wondering what would have happened if he sunk his teeth into my flesh...
This sort of reminded me of that movie I once saw.
Dawn of The Dead
But, what are the odds of that shit coming to life? Here?
In Georgia?!
I let out a heavy sigh, about to drop the baseball bat to catch my breath, but I suddenly forgot. There was the other one.
She was still trying to make his way inside to get me just like his friend tried. I half hoped if he witnessed his friend's death with them milky eyes... would she back off?
I was definitely wrong.
I turned back to face the dead body on the wooden floors of this home.
A dull ache flashed across my heart for a split second and I sighed heavily once more, suddenly feeling more pain on my right side.
I didn't have time to mourn for someone who ended up dead in an attempt to attack me. My attention went back to the one at the door.
Slowly tip-toeing to the door, it seemed to... excite her? I was faced to face with what used to be an ordinary woman. This thing... it couldn't even be considered a human, no more. Jesus Christ, it was like staring into the eyes of the dead.
What used to be crystal clear green eyes... changed into pale, grey orbs with a mild consistency. Those eyes were dull and bloodshot. Her mouth... I don't know why I ain't notice this before, but it was gone. One of her thin lips were missing and the woman's jaw was visible. Blood decorated her face, the scars were now bulging and pulsing... one bite mark crossed my eye on the side of her exposed neck and collarbone.
I grimaced at the way her bottom lip curled back and a nasty growl emitted from the back of her throat.
I slowly reached for the lock, clicking it open.
I stepped a stride back, bat in my grasp, ready to swing like she was the baseball and I was hitter. My eyes watched as the door flew open by the strong breeze passing through and as she charged into the opened house, shrieks escaping her mouth.
I braced myself, the closer she got, the tighter my grip on the aluminum got.
I held my arms out in front of me, vigorously swaying the bat her neck and slightly wincing when she flipped over on her back. Hot tears started streaming from my closed eyes as I gritted my teeth, hitting and hurling the bat in various places of the body over and over.
I ignored the growls and groans coming from the woman getting my beat-down. With a strangled cry, I brought the bat down a few more times, the sounds of it's crunching filled my ears. Underneath me when I felt my energy go and I snapped my eyes open, was the mess of a skull, brain and blood.
My eyes flickers from the dark skinned and mangled "man" down in the hall, then to his friend beaten to a bloody pulp, and lastly to my shaking, bloodied hands holding the freshly painted, dark-red baseball bat.
I dropped it to the wood floors, rushing over to the front to lock it again and make sure more weren't tempted to come it. I whipped my head around to the open back door, knocking against the side of the house due the cool Georgia breeze and locked that one as well, once I managed to make my way to that other side of the house.
A tinge of safeness flashed over my body; I allowed myself to back up against the wall, sinking to floor, while clutching my aching, right side.
Shit, for waking up in a hospital... this all was something to go through! I still can't believe I managed to kill three people in possibly three hours of waking up.
.
.
.
I found myself dragging the two bodies out into the Lori's backyard, near the other dead person, missing a leg. It took another ounce of strength I never knew I had. The blood they shed had since long dried up on the wooden floors and I sure as well wasn't breaking my back to scrub it clean...
I took a look outside, just by peeking my head out the door. This small neighborhood and street was probably deserted by now.
I took a deep breath, exhaling it before limping into one of the open doors inside the house. It led to medium-sized bedroom, shabbily decorated. The drawers on the mahogany dressers were pulled out and discarded clothes rested in every corner.
I stepped over some of the broken glass in the room, opening the door in the corner of the room.
I pulled back the shower curtain, a hopeful smile plastering on my face.
.
.
.
Zenora frowned when she turned the silver knob of the bathtub. The head of the shower cranked up like an engine and shook as only four of the buds released it's stream of water.
She reached for the knob labeled H and crossed her ring finger over her index, praying that the hot water was at least working. It was bad enough the shower only supplied a limited amount of water, but she could only hope that it would be hot.
Tired of waiting for water that never heated up, she slowly stood up from the side of the tub, tugging the flaps of her hospital gown and letting them hit the floor, exposing her light skinned body.
Zenora climbed into the tub, enjoying the little water that did come from the shower as it beat down on her skin. The light skinned woman released a content sigh as she loosened the braided hair, roaming her fingers through the nappy tangles of her brown tresses.
Soon after washing most of her body and wetting her entire head full of thick hair, her attention turned to the dingy, now brown bandages spread across the right side of her stomach and breast. She slowly used two fingers, peeling away the medical tape holding them in place, while gritting her teeth from pain caused by it, in the process.
The bandages hit the tub's floor with a wet plop! and she slowly let the cold water wash over her freshly, healed gunshot wounds and the dried crusts of blood obscuring the skin on that area of her body.
.
.
.
Zenora's POV
I managed to find some clean discarded underwear that Lori left behind. They were granny panties, but hell. I didn't care, underwear is underwear. I couldn't worry about what I had on underneath right now. I had to keep my mind set on living until the next day.
She didn't have any clean bras that I wear, so I resorted to the old fashion-way of scrubbing it with soap until I felt like it was tidy enough for me to wear. Lucky me we had the same breast-size as well... Don't judge me.
I let out a sigh, looking at myself in the small bathroom mirror. I knew I at least was clean, ever since that mini-shower. I weaved my fingers through my damp hair roughly, to get out the new tangles that started to form; afterwards, I found a hair-tie lying around. I pulled my hair back, smoothing it over before tying it into a ponytail.
I opened the medicine cabinet, frowning when it was partly empty.
She musta' took all of the aspirins and bandages. I had nothing to rewrap my wound, but got a hint of hope when I found a bottle of half, empty rubbing-alcohol.
Here we go... I thought to myself, leisurely pouring the contents over my newly healed gunshot wounds.
"Ah, fuck!" I yelped, jumping up and prancing around at the stinging sensation of the alcohol meeting the stitches and botched wounds. I bent over, lightly blowing the areas where it burned and calmed down just as fast.
There was a ticking clock still plugged into the room, hanging on the wall.
The time read:
2:45 p.m
It was just mid afternoon, when I dressed myself in baggy, light blue and high waisted skinny jeans. They were a bit snug on my skinny body but I found a piece of rope to hold it in place, on my hips and waist. Covering my upper torso was an oversized, red and green flannel, so I tied the front into a knot and put on some old and dirty combat boots I found lying in one of these closets.
... It felt kind of wrong raiding this woman's house, but I couldn't worry about that now. Not after all that happened today.
I also figured that it wasn't safe to stay here. I had to find somewhere to go; possibly someone to be with... nobody like Shane Walsh or Miss. Attitude-Lori. Walking over the crushed glass spread across the den, I scanned the room for some sort of protection.
The baseball bat was too heavy and tired me out fast. I needed something light; something quick and effective just in case someone else tried to attack me. I walked into the kitchen, eyeing the remains of a broken silver picture-frame and the crumpled picture of a white man with blue eyes and light brown, short hair. He smiled widely and held in his arms was an infant I figured was Carl; the woman next to him was as good as Lori.
I picked it up, smoothing the image over and getting a good look at it before turning it around to a find diligently, written note on the back.
To my wife, Lori.
Love, Rick
So, this house belong to this Rick guy... the Rick everyone was talking about and blaming me for him not wakin' up. I let out a sigh, shaking my head. And for some unknown reason, I folded the picture, putting in the back pocket of these jeans.
My eyes caught the attention of something hanging on a nail near the stove.
A big frying pan.
I picked it up in my grasp, feeling the course and metal materials of the back of it. It was an iron-metal pan; I knew this because my mama' used to have alot of these at the house... and I once used one before to fight a man who screwed me over.
This was perfect.
I swung it in the air, letting out a girlish giggle at the whooshing sound I heard. Not only was it light and durable, it was also a large pan and made of iron. Perfect for hitting crazy, growling people trying to attack and bite you.
I held the pan at my side, also not forgetting to grab the bottle of rubbing-alcohol and lone package of two Tylenol pills I found in one of Lori's dressers. I also took a couple of her clean underwear and brown t-shirt I found, stuffing them into a fanny-pack.
There was no turning back as I left out the door, walking across the lawn.
I also didn't know where I was going, either... maybe I could make my way towards Atlanta. A city meant more people and more people probably meant... safety?
I don't know.
A/N:
Ewww, I gave Zenora a fanny-pack! Haha, omg. And a frying-pan.
The frying-pan was totally inspired by Rochelle and the fact that it is a usable weapon in Left 4 Dead II.
QotD: Did anyone ever play L4D? Really awesome zombie apocalypse game. Ellis is bae.
(but Daryl is life)
Anyways, on a more serious note, I didn't really like this chapter. I feel like it lacked something or was maybe too long and boring? Idk.
Please leave a review. It can be anything and I would definitely love constructive criticism! (it's my birthday )
Thanks For Reading!
Stay tooned for the next chappie.
And more WD characters WILL be introduced... No more spoilers and we finally get somewhere guise!
Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan