The Dead Side ° horror ✔️

Chapter Seven

Author's Note- This is more of a filler but it still matters all the same. Unedited.  I hope you all like it (and Declan a little more)

Chapter Seven:

Alex kicked the door down, immediately fanning out to make sure the room was clear. We had two floors, and ended up choosing the second so we could block the stairs. Tristan and I were assigned to checking out the rooms to find a suitable suite to share while the others cleared the hallway.

Not that I objected to the place, but it didn't seem ideal to be sleeping in a once crowded building in a densely populated city. I paid it no mind, concentrating on the task at hand.

The power was out and our flashlights were dim. I was squinting to see the stretch of hall in front of me, to make sure we were alone. Tristan swung the first door to the left open, meeting the gaze of a rotting Creature. The room itself was covered in discarded organs and blood, unusable even without the monster inside. My knife did the trick.

Slamming the door, we moved on to the end of the hall. I don't know if I've ever been so happy to see a messy room.

Sheets were all over the floor like someone had rolled out of bed. They'd left their non perishable food behind, as little an amount as it was. Mud was on the carpet by the door, and it was apparent that someone had been here recently. I wondered if they were dead as I sat down at the foot of the bed. That was the only problem; one bed, a desk chair, and a tiny couch.That made sleeping awkward.

"I call the couch," Tristan claimed his spot as soon as we were all in the room. Alex gave me a shy smile as he sat down in the chair. I know they meant for me to get the bed, but Declan Blaze wasn't exactly chivalrous.

"There's room for two," He gave me a perverted grin. I glared his direction.

"Fair enough," I gritted my teeth to keep my internal cursing to a minimum. I wanted to prove that out of the two of us, I could be the mature one. The boys all took their shirts off to get comfortable, changing into basketball shorts like it wasn't an apocalypse.

I stiffly stood in my pants and jacket, unsure of what to do. I hadn't worn pajamas in a year.

Tristan handed me a pair of his shorts and smiled. "You can wear your undershirt."

My hands started to shake at the very thought. The bite would be visible if I took the jacket off. That wouldn't end well at all.

Carefully, I stepped into the bathroom to find the person who was here first. His blood was on the walls behind his head. The gun he pulled on himself sat on the floor next to his crumpled form. I grabbed his first aid kit from the counter before shutting the door. As I breathed fresh air, a gasp escaped my lips. I smelled like death.

I wrapped my arm in gauze before slipping my jacket off. There, no bites anymore. The shorts had to be rolled several times to get them on my hips, but I felt more comfortable. The denim from my jeans left slight marks on my pale figure.
Declan was the only one awake when I got back to the bed. "Come on," He gestured.

Whether he meant to or not, he took the section of the bed closest to the door; which actually was the chivalrous thing to do.

Awkwardly, I slid next to him and closed my eyes. My head hurt with the image of the dead guy in the bathroom floating around. So, I forcefully closed my eyes before he did, curling up as far from him as possible.

His blood was in my mind. What was left of his face was staring me in the eyes when I opened mine. I knew he wasn't gonna hurt me, that I'd shut the door, but my paranoia was incessant and never ending.