Level 01: Survival Horror

Don't say the Z word.

LISTEN.

I always loved video games, and I was good at them. Before, I even planned on majoring in Game Design; Survival Horror games were my favorite! So naturally, I thought I'd kick a*s if the Zombie Apocalypse ever came.

AND THEN IT DID.

Now the virus runs through my veins. I can smell my friends' flesh and blood. I'm infected, and they know it. It's only a matter of time; yet, they won't let me end my life. They think there's still a chance.

MY FRIENDS ARE WRONG.

The world is a Corpse-filled wasteland.

There are no extra lives, no continues, no cheat codes, one bite and it's Game Over.

BE WARNED: THIS. IS. NO. GAME.

LEVEL 01: SURVIVAL HORROR

          

Groans came from the nearby shufflers. As a fellow slave to normalcy, I gave them my full support. Mornings at Milpeg High sucked. My locker jammed. I wedged my fingers into the sliver of an opening and pulled harder. The door creaked in protest but held fast.

"Ow! Son-of-a!" I yanked my hand back. A dot of red formed on my finger. "Wonderful."

Programming class made my Junior year better. The joy of being able to create and manipulate a world had become second to none, yet the locker of doom stood in my way. I needed that book. I slammed my head into the door and sighed.

“Hey, Zach?"

I froze. What did someone want with me?

I looked back with caution; it had to be a trap. Tiffany Gainsborough stood a few feet away with her hands on her hips, cheeks red, and out of breath.

Every day she wore baggy jeans, some shade of violet t-shirt, and the same black baseball cap turned backward, atop her hip-length hair; an incredible piece of work.

Both of us being almost-loners, I likely had nothing to fear. She did have a few friends. They called themselves, "The Gamer's Guild."

"Um, hey Tiff," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't call me Tiff. Only friends call me that."

"Tiffan�""

"Stop. It's weird even talking to you."

My heart sank. So much for meaningful conversation.

"You're a nerd, right?" she asked.

"I'm not a nerd per say."

"Follow me. I think there's something you'll want to see." Tiffany pointed at the hall to the alley. A trap after all. Her friends probably wanted to beat me up.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Why should I trust you?"

"Don't be stupid. It wasn't my idea to get you. She just said you play survival horror games."

Two things sparked my interest. One, Tiffany said 'she,' meaning another girl. And two, I loved video games.

"Are you coming, or not?" Tiffany tapped her foot.

"Yes, of course!"

With a sigh, she turned to leave. Maybe I sounded too excited. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed.

"I hope it doesn't go," Tiffany said. "And I hope those idiots haven't touched the stupid dead thing."

"What?"

"You know, it could have crawled away."

"Wait, you said dead. Dead things don't just�""

"You'll see," she said.

Tiffany broke into a jog, and I did my best to keep up. Running sucked.

Her urgency unnerved me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall to the exit. Without losing momentum, she kicked the door opened. I nearly tripped as we made it to the empty alley. Nothing stirred or made a sound, not even a bird.

Tiffany snickered. "Figures. They must have led it somewhere."

"I'm confused. You said something was dead. You can't lead a dead thing anywhere."

Scraping and a thud came from around the corner of the building.

Tiffany pulled me again. "Come on."

We ran directly into her group: Dave Carnby, a short, fat guy with an affinity for dragon button-downs; Jeff Mason, a tall, tough-looking senior; and finally Jessie Bluefield, my Freshman year crush!

My heart leaped into my throat. We made eye contact for a brief moment before I looked away. How could I face her? I couldn't! Not since an incident at her birthday party some years back. One bad swing of a piñata stick and you can never talk to a girl again.

"You brought that loser?" Dave snickered. “Jessie, don’t you stalk him around town?”

“N-no!” Jessie argued. “I’ve never stalked anyone. I swear. I just asked for Zach because he knows about this stuff.”

“Wait, what?” I cocked my head.

Jessie and I locked eyes, but she quickly looked away, her cheeks turning rosy red.

Beneath our feet, a dark and crusty substance led to the basement window. A coagulated blood trail? Only dead things had coagulated blood.

"You threw something dead into the basement, didn’t you?" I asked.

"It looked like a mushy ball of flesh.” Jessie said. “We saw it just as it dropped through the window!”

Jeff shrugged. “I personally think it looked like road kill. There was no need to get you.”

I crossed my arms. “This is some kind of joke, right? Did you guys seriously kick a poor dead animal down there?”

“This is serious, Zach!” Jessie pleaded. “You’re brave. Will you tell us what it is?”

Dave shoved me, "Check it out, but hurry! I’m hungry and the cafeteria is calling my name.”

I stared at the dark basement window. “What? Why me? We should just leave it to the janitor!”

Dave snorted. “You’re the survival horror expert!”

"Yeah, in video games!"

Tiffany lifted the window. "We'll be right behind you."

"Hell no, I won't." Dave crossed his arms, and took three large steps back. “I don’t deal with dead things.”

Jeff shrugged. “Ain’t worth it. Not for this guy.”

Jessie kicked a pebble. “Zach’s brave.”

Tiffany groaned. “Cowards! Don’t worry, Zach. I’ll be right behind you, even if these jerks won’t.”

I handed my backpack to Jessie.

“Be careful.” She said, and pecked me on the cheek.

My stomach tingled. Girls never worried about me.

Tiffany waved her hand. “Go already!”

As I climbed through the window, I cursed under my breath. I misplaced my foot, slipped, and landed on my tailbone. A sharp pain almost caused me to scream, but the sticky substance I landed in, turned my stomach. I scrambled to my feet and wiped my hands on my pants.

The dark basement stank of must and something foul. Broken chairs and desks were strewn around, along with old white boards and flat sports balls.

Tiffany landed beside me and clicked on a small flashlight. She handed it over, and we followed the blood trail. It ended near some old cabinets.

I sucked in my breath as something squished nearby.

"I think it's behind there," Tiffany said.

I inched forward, adrenaline pumping. Could it really be just a dying animal? The spooky basement stole my courage, leaving me trembling.

I shouldn’t be afraid! It couldn’t be more than a poor dog, or cat.

Grasping the first cabinet, I pulled to the side, but it came crashing down on top of us.

"You idiot!" Tiffany said.

We struggled to get out from underneath, but we couldn’t lift it even an inch.

The squishing stopped, and a scraping took over.

A grotesque, bloody, lump crawled towards us from behind a sink. The disgusting mass pulled itself using five bony digits. A partially crushed skull revealed its brains through straggled hair, and its eyes were dull green and lifeless.

It looked too human for comfort. The moving torso gripped something in its other hand; a twitching mouse.

Entrails hung from the animal's body as the creature tore away a chunk of meat. It chewed with an open mouth, revealing jagged, broken teeth. A long airy groan scraped its throat.

It dropped the mouse and pulled itself forward.

"Oh, my God!" I said and put all my strength into pushing the cabinet.

"I-Is it there? I can't see!"

"Yes! We have to get out of here!"

Its clawed hand came within inches, and the drooling thing hissed.

The basement door opened, and the custodian stepped in. He held a broom in his hand and squinted at us through the dim light.

"Help!" I pleaded.

"What the hell are you kids doin' in here? Making out?"

Unaware of the blood ball, he stepped right next to it and knelt down, lifting the cabinet just enough. I crawled out.

The creature grabbed the man and sank its fangs into his flesh. The blood-curdling scream reverberated off the walls.

The cabinet fell back onto Tiffany. She grunted, once again pinned. I crawled back and stared as the blood ball’s head whipped around like a starving, rabid dog. The muscular man fought, but it wouldn't let go.

"Help me, you moron!" Tiffany cried.

I searched for a weapon and found an old, aluminum baseball bat. Grabbing it, I swung at the lump, crushing more of its head until the thing finally stopped moving.

"What in the hell was that?" Tears streamed from Mr. Murph's eyes.

His wound looked black and rotten. I met his terrified gaze, and then his eyes rolled back into his head. He fell flat.

"Zach! Get this off me!" Tiffany said.

I stepped back, looking toward the window on the other side of the basement. I needed to get out. I had a feeling Murph wouldn't stay dead for long.

"Oh God!" Tiffany screamed. "Please, help me!"

Mr. Murph opened his dull green eyes. He looked around like a newborn. I took his moment of confusion to wedge the baseball bat under the cabinet. I pushed down, lifting it, and Tiffany crawled out.

We ran to the window. I held out my hand and boosted her. I jumped, but couldn't reach the ledge on my own. The reanimated custodian stood and moaned, eyes fixated on me.

"Help!"

Jessie appeared in the window and saw Mr. Murph. She screeched and grabbed for my hand. Jeff joined her. Murph's iron grip grasped my ankle. I twisted and screamed, kicking hard.

He snarled and pulled, but my shoe connected with his jaw and he crashed through the broken desks.

I crawled out of the basement as fast as I could, letting the window fall shut.

"What happened in there?" Dave asked. “If someone died, I’m outta here!”

"That bloody thing bit Mr. Murph!" Tiffany said.

I scrambled to my feet and looked around the alley expecting to see more like the janitor at any moment.

"So what was it?" Dave asked. “Was it a you know what? Tell me it was a you know what!”

"It was�"It was�"" I fought for words.

"Spit it out!"

Screams erupted from within the school building, doubling and tripling as panic ensued. The fire alarm blared.

I swallowed hard. "It was a zombie!"

 

Author's Note

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