Was the high school always this quiet when no one was around?
No, Sam thought. It's never this quiet. This is a different kind of quiet.
Were the halls always so dark, winding away into shadows eerily?
No, he thought again. They were usually lit with lights and the life of the students bustling through them.
Was the world always this. . .empty?
No, he told himself. But the world had never died before. Not until now.
It was hard, standing up, and feeling the uncomfortable aching of his thighs nearly bring him back down to the ground. He used the locker handle to lift himself, first to his knees and finally up completely. He pushed his trembling body away from the locker and stood on his own. Sam could feel the knots twisting in his muscles, bruises forming on his pale skin, the blood of the cuts from the journey finally drying. He looked down at his hands, as beaten as the rest of him was, and then down past them, at the floor. He wanted to sit on the hall floor again, feeling the cool tiles against his bare calves and soothing the heat and pain running through them. The idea of the relief of being off his feet was enough to make him second guess getting up in the first place, but he managed to stay up.
He wanted to sit there and pretend that it was his bedroom floor, the wood panels against his skin instead. But the safety of his room, his home, seemed so far away now. It's just up the road, Sam reminded himself. There would be no one there though. There'd be no welcome back, no blonde kids waiting at the door as he arrived. . .not anymore. Sam swallowed the hard lump in his throat and ignored the tears stinging at his tired eyes. He knew he couldn't think about those things, not now, not when he'd finally escaped, even if it was just for a little while. Still, the task was easier said than done and he felt the hard truths of the situation gnawing at the back of his mind, chipping away at the walls he'd put up to hold them back.
Sam could feel his knees threatening to buckle beneath him, shaking uneasily beneath his slender body, but he couldn't let himself get back on the ground. He didn't know if he'd ever get back up again. So instead, he settled with leaning on the lockers next to him, one of the doors closing, the metal slamming like a gunshot. He jumped, the very sound making him want to run straight out of the school, and felt his heart beating painfully fast against his already sore chest. He ran his hand through his matted hair, a released the breath he didn't even know he was holding. His feet began to move, as if on their own accord, and took him down the hall. The shadowy corners on his sides made his skin crawl, his imagination painting a horrific bloody scene out in his mind every time he thought he heard a shuffle or a stirring. The soles of his old Vans padded against the tiles of McKinley's hallways as he ventured further, the near silent sound still echoing through the empty building.
He found his thoughts wandering and his gaze fastening on the passing scenery of his old high school. Everything seemed unnaturally dark, despite it being broad daylight outside. The windows were either broken or coated with dirt and other things that Sam didn't dare try to figure out what they were. The sunlight barely shone through them, but it was enough to keep everything lit enough to navigate. The floor was coated in mud tracks: footprints of both the dead and living, and Sam knew it wasn't all mud. Some of it was much darker. . .redder. He swallowed and lifted his stare from the floor and moved it to the hall ahead of him.
It seemed to go on forever. The eerie lighting made Sam wish he hadn't left his spot on the floor, but there was a part of him that remembered what it looked like, and led him further down it. He remembered the first time he'd walked into McKinley, seven or so years ago it was now. He was terrified. Not in the same way he was now, but he remembered the anxiety like it was yesterday, his sixteen-year-old self walking silently from class to class until someone was nice enough to talk to him. He remembered the corner of the main hall where he'd spent in between periods hanging out with the Glee kids, showing off his latest impressions. His eyes found it, and for a moment, he thought he saw it as it used to be: the walls brighter, cleaner, and a group of kids gathered around together, laughing. The very thought made his stomach hurt, but he pressed on past the old place and went through the open double doors that led to probably the most familiar room of them all.
His heart slowed as he walking in front of the wooden door that was no longer the golden brown. It had marks up and down it, wood stripped from its surface and its doorknob removed completely. Sam wondered why he hadn't come here before, feeling the overwhelming sense of safety wash over him, but he was there now and that's what mattered. He pushed against the door, that he soon saw was a little ajar, and opened it slowly, the Glee room revealing itself behind it. A smile almost touched Sam's lips at the sight. The corner of his lip was twitching upwards but the sick reality of just exactly why the room was empty hit him harder than he had expected. Sam licked his now dry lips and inhaled slowly, a shaky breath loud in the silence of the room.
But then, the room wasn't so silent anymore. Sam heard it. He knew it was real this time. He knew it. A shuffling from the trophy closet, the slightest sliding across the floor. But he had nothing to defend himself from whatever was lurking nearby, and he stood there, frozen as he watched and waited. His eyes searched the corner frantically, looking for some evidence of what he'd heard, but it was only when he saw a small, dark-haired head bob up that the fear really set in.
As quickly as the terror had set in, it had vanished as soon as the head poked up higher and dark eyes, not chalky white, stared at him. They were glossy from tears no doubt and staring wildly at him, at first for a lingering amount of time, but then, when she realized what Sam had, Tina popped up and out from behind the chairs. Sam didn't even have time to register what was happening. All he knew was Tina was flinging herself into his arms, her own linking tightly around his shoulders, gripping onto him for dear life. He instinctively held her back, his embrace enveloping her torso completely and nearly lifting her off of the ground. He could feel her shaking in his arms, or maybe it was him, he wasn't sure. No matter what was happening, for whatever reason they'd found each other, Sam finally understood that he was no longer alone, and that made him smile.