Eaten alive

• Horror

								
The wind slaps against my face, and rain sizzles through my skin like acid. Thunder roaring high in the sky, sending shivers through my body. I use one hand to grab my shotgun, harnessed safely on my back, and the other to hold back the flesh eating monster fighting for a bite of my neck, shimmering with a mix of sweat and rain. My finger wraps around the gun's trigger, slowly nudging it out of its place, careful not to stimulate the trigger. One wrong move and it's all over. I move my hand from the gun just for a moment to fend off another zombie. The movement of my hand drops the gun from my pocket and sends it to the ground, going off when it hits. I instinctively release the zombies to cover my face in an attempt to shield myself from the gun's explosion. I feel wet globs punch against my face. Once the explosion is over, I peek through my fingers. The bullet hit one of the zombies beneath their jaw. Chunks of fiery red blood and infected mucus cover my body. The zombie's head is hanging on by the back of its neck, head hanging backward, gargling until it falls, rolling along the grass, tracking spots of blood along the ground. Thick pools of gory red blood flood from its neck, coating the grass with a glossy metallic blanket. I lean forward to grab my gun off the ground. Shaking the blood off my gun, I feel a sharp pain shoot through my arm. I suck in a breath, my head gets hot and blurry. I drop my gun, slightly splattering the blood pooled onto the ground against my leg. I lift my arm into my eyesight. My eyes fogged briefly before focusing on the teeth marks engraved deep into my arm. 
		A pounding sensation contaminates the rest of my arm. I take a deep breath. Looking around at my surroundings, I spot a new-looking house in the distance . I stagger towards the house, grabbing my arm with one hand. A few minutes pass. I step up to the house. I reach towards the door handle, Leaning against the door to open it, Falling forward into the grass when I twist the handle to enter. I look up at the house, only to see nothing. 
“What…?” My voice is low as If someone were listening. I sound raspy and weak. I sit down on the grass, stumbling down faster than intended. I groan weakly as my eyes focus back on the world. I’m able to form a figure standing before me through my blurred eyes. 
“Stop!” I order, kicking my feet at the person to get them away.
 My vision slowly takes attention to the person, allowing me to see their face. The face belongs to a girl, back before the virus took over. My girl. 
“Mel…?” I groan, the sun shining into my eyes. She says nothing. The silence seems so loud. She reaches her hand out to me. Without thinking, I take her hand in my own. She helps me up to my feet. My body feels lighter than before, like I’m floating. “Mel… My arm.” I gesture down to my arm. The girl doesn't bother looking at me, or my arm. She simply puts her finger to her lip
“Shh…” Her voice sounds clean and smooth. I tighten my grip on her hand, but she feels like a cloud, soft, fragile. I feel if I hold her any tighter, she might break. She doesn’t say anything more. Not a single mutter. Not a peep. She holds my hand as she leads me through the woods. I don’t dare say a word. I don’t dare make a sound. For if I do, where might she go? Would she leave? Probably not. Surely she wouldn't. Right?
 “Um, Mel? Where…” I gasp, dropping her hand as a sharp migraine fills my head. I look up at her as she looks down at me; a soft smile engraved on her face, her dimples bursting through her cheeks. I hear a soft voice. 
“Logan? Logan, is that you?” 
Then it hits me—my sister. I look forward to the girl holding her hand still. But when I look up, She's gone. My hand holds air tightly, fingers parting just enough to fit another pair of fingers. I look forward in confusion. How did I get here? How did I get back home? “Logan!” I hear her running up to me. I try to run to her, to give her a big hug; but I can’t. As if I’m not in control, I watch as I tightly grip onto her arm. She watches me with fearful eyes “Logan…. Logan, you’re hurting me….” My hand pulls her arm up to my mouth; my teeth dig into her soft skin. The look in her eyes, it looks like not only is her body breaking but also her heart. “Ouch! Logan that hurts!” She cries out in pain. I try to pull away but I can’t stop. I know for sure now, that I am not in control. I’m here, but I’m not me. I look down at my hands that hold onto hers; my skin is pale and bloody. I hear a herd of footsteps running towards me. I spot my mom. Before I can try to do anything, I feel a sharp pain shoot through my head, Even more blood splattering against my face. My sister's head falls against mine as I fall to my back. My sister's tiny body lays atop me. Blood was pooling from the gunshot wound in her head, mine pooling from my own. Her hand interlocks with mine. I feel her rough and pained breathing against my chest, and after a few moments it stops. Mine stops. The world stops. It stops spinning. The hammering in my head slows. The Agonizing Ache of my arm relaxes; it floats away. I float away. The weight of my sister's body against mine stays. The feeling of Melanie’s hand against mine lingers; like a phantom. 
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