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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2174555-The-Becoming
Rated: 18+ · Draft · Young Adult · #2174555
New story, want to try it out. Tell me what you think.
This may have been the worst decision that I have ever made in my short eighteen years of life. Staring into the large mirror my face didn’t look the same as it had this morning, my lips baring no resemblance to the girl that had walked into this party believing she deserved to be here. Who was I kidding? I was presently standing inside Misty Clearwater’s guest bathroom with makeup smeared all over my face and a very tight but, flattering top that was worth twice as much as a year’s allowance. But, here I was. My best friend Clary was puking in the toilet, as I being the great friend that I was comforted her. So that we could make our way back down to the party, refreshed.
I would say I dragged her to her shiny toy Mercedes and we both ended up passing out in her bedroom, but that was not how this night ended.. Tonight I was going to die. And in four hours there would be no trace of me in or around the small suburb we had both grown up in. I would be nothing more than a memory a small futile memory of my perfect golden family; or my mother who had just remarried and thought of me as nothing more than a piece of her past that she just could not get rid of well I guess she finally got her wish.
I heard a scream come from downstairs but, it didn’t register until later what was truly going on outside of that bathroom. I guess I’ll never really know. Because by the time Clary and I made it down the stairs and into the parlor where the party were being held all I could see was red. And I don’t mean an angry red. I mean red, streams of red, bloody faces, hands, and bodies. Clary and I stumbled our way towards the room and I felt something slick at my feet, looking down all I saw was crimson sludge.
It did not reignite with me until later that had I been in my right and sober mind I probably would have noticed the silence as I walked down the stairs. Just utter silence. Even the music had stopped.
Bodies where everywhere in no order, thrown about like nothing. Large gashes and scratches showing on their arms, legs, even faces. Marcy Thomas was laying half way on the large sectional and the floor, her arms where covered in what looked to me to be bite marks, her neck looked to be broken sitting the wrong way upon her head. Brandon Morris, Clary’s date was looked to be thrown into the glass coffee table that separated both the couch and the doorway, large chunks of glass stuck into him in angles that I never knew existed. His eyes where open but, I saw no movement and no sign of life within them. A couple bodies even had limbs torn off. I gasped, the blood draining from my face.
“We have to go now Clary. Don’t look.” I didn’t want her to see this, Clary was so sensitive I don’t think she would ever get these images out of my mind let alone hers. She slurred a mangled version of “whydoyudothisyouprtypoper” as I dragged her towards the door, even in my confusion with the bodies lined up before me I knew we had to get out as soon as possible. I didn’t know what had happened here but, I didn’t want to meet the people (no one person could do this to twenty or so teenagers right?) who had done this to all these people. I felt hot streams coming down my cheeks and my hands started to convulse but, I needed to get out of her no matter how much blood and guts I had just seen. Fight or flight was kicking in and I was nowhere near the choice of fight. I furthered my grip around Clary’s waist and made my way through the house, bloodied massacre all around us.
Just as I was near the front hall of the massive mansion, a hand grabbed my leg. I struggled attempting to shake it off, “Please help me…” I looked down to see a girl, Marla or Maranda was barely recognizable except for the necklace that was around her neck, a necklace she had sat in homeroom bragging about just fifteen hours ago. Imported all the way from Italy… Her hair was matted with blood, a cut in her neck that dragged across, ear to ear. It was bleeding, maybe bleeding wasn’t the best word for the stream of blood that was flooring she started to cough and blood started to come out that way too.
I couldn’t waste any more time, especially if whoever did this was still in the house looking for more victims to rip up. While still holding up Clary I started to move attempting to shake off her hand. I knew leaving her here was an awful thing to do but, how could I endanger Clary any longer, she was barely making sense let alone about to help me pick this poor girl up and try to save her too. Just as I got her grip from my leg, and managed to open the front door. I saw them.
They stood motionless in the circular drive. Staring at me, blood surrounding their mouths. Two girls and three guys, naked and grinning. Up until now I had never seen naked body and even in that instant I felt a twinge of embarrassment for being shocked at their bodies. But, their bodies they were different, where the parts should be there weren’t. Just blank nothing there, and there hands. Long, delicate claws hung at their sides. And in the coal black eyes that looked towards us I saw nothing. The two females could only be set apart because of their small frame and acrobat like stance. So fluid within their motionless almost as if they were living nightmarish statues. Their skin every with a distinct tint that I had never seen before almost bluish within the dark night. The males taller and more grotesque with their build they looked like something out of a horror movie. Their eyes dark pools, their fingers dripping of what was left of my classmates, their lips curling into menacing smiles as they looked us. What were they? What had they done? How would I get away? Questions after questions screamed back in forth in my mind.
They started to move slowly at first, almost like they wanted to give me time to run. I knew I was doing exactly what they wanted as I slammed the door shut locking it with my one free hand. I had to figure out a way out of this house. I had seen way too many horror movies to not realize I was a sitting duck in this house. Despite my numerous cross-country wins, these things. These things murdered about twenty or so people in under an hour. There was no way I could match them in a fight let alone run from them. I had to think of a plan and fast. I run towards the second flight of stairs let lead from the kitchen up to the second floor, I vaguely remembered Misty saying her parents had a panic room somewhere. I hadn’t seen anything with a door or anything down in the foyer so it had to somewhere up there. There was no way I would make it to the backdoor through the garage before they caught up. So I guess hiding would be my best bet.
I whispered to Clary trying to get her to stand on her own but, it was no use she was incoherent and there was no way I could sober her up in time for this. Forcing her unto my back I thanked god that she was a size zero and four foot one because there was no way this would have been able to work with anyone else. I wrapped her arms around my neck and bolted up the kitchen stairs not bothering to look back.
As soon as I made it to the landing I ran through the hallway which was far larger than I anticipated as I had only been in the bathroom and not looking for you know, safe place to hide so that my best friend and I wouldn’t end up ripped to shreds like the poor souls of our classmates. I heard a large crash from downstairs and I knew it must have been the door I had just locked. I hoped the minor distraction would keep those things at bay enough for us to find the panic room. Was I going in the wrong direction?

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2174555-The-Becoming