You Felt The Bite, Now You'll Be One

You're Not The Same, I Can See it in Your Eyes

*loud explosion sounds*

I jumped up quickly from the bed. My eyes clouded and my brain pulsated against my skull. I instantly regret getting up so quickly. What was that sound?

I swung my legs off the side of the bed and waltzed over to the window. Thick, flowered curtains draped from the top, masking my view of what is outside. I gently moved the curtains out of the way, making sure they didn't crease. My mother made these. There was no way we could let them be damaged. These curtains were one of the only things my mom hand made and actually kept. They were as precious as silver, to me.

I peered out the window. My jaw dropped on instinct. What I saw was absolutely breathtaking, in a negative way! The madness and chaos taking place outside of my house is comparable to World War III. A fire roars in the background, destroying whatever comes in it's path. The flames lick sides of buildings and trees just enough to send them up into pillars of firey smoke and ash. The ash covers the town like a fine, blanket of snow. Only problem is, the blanket is ash, and not snow. Terrified cries ring in my ears, enough to send any little girl crying and hiding in her closet. I was so shocked that I couldn't move, I could only watch.

A woman in her late thirties ran down the street, clutching onto a newborn child for dear life. She turned around and faced what she was running from. From where I was, I literally could see the color drain from her face. She was completely terrified. I felt my heart speed up as a figure came into the light. He was about 34 years old and six feet tall. His head hung low, a mess of brown curls tumbling down his face. He wore ripped up plaid and a pair of jeans, also ripped to shreds. The man's walk was uneven, like a limp, showing signs that he has been hurt recently. The woman let out one more scream.

Arms outstretched, he lunged for the woman. The impact knocked the child she was carrying right out of her hands. The baby crashed to the ground, landing on her head. The woman cried out to the child, but even I know there was no hope. That baby was dead, or slowly bleeding out. No newborn could survive a fall like that. It just wasn't possible in this cruel Hell we lived in.

My eyes wandered back to the man attacking the woman. He sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of her arm and pulled back, ripping chunks of meat right off the bone. She started lunging around, crying for help that she won't receive. He's insane. I carefully watched as he threw her back against the brick wall. Her head whipped to the side, snapping like a twig. I couldn't help myself...I screamed. It was terrifying to see. I couldn't pull away though, I don't know why. Her body crumpled to the ground.

By this time, I was shaking so hard you could think I was having a seizure. My heart thundered in my chest. A thin layer of cold sweat covered my face and hands. What is wrong with the world?

At that moment, he looked up at me. My breathing hitched. Those eyes...they were glowing. Eyes aren't supposed to glow.. They were a deep, red. Like the color of blood freshly staining a white sheet. Like the color of rubies twinkling in the light. His eyes...they're unhuman.

Slowly, I backed away from the window, letting the curtains conceal me from his view. Panicking, I turned around to see why my dad was still sleeping through it all.

"Dad?" I blinked. He wasn't there. "Dad!?"

My panic level went from a mild 12 to a raging 74. My dad was missing in all of this havoc. Where could he have gone? He wasn't outside with those monsters...was he?

The button in my brain finally clicked, allowing me to think clearly before acting. I took a deep breathe and crept towards the door, dodging the small objects on the floor of my father's room, meandering into the hallway. The boards creaked underneath my feet, warning anything within earshot that I was here. Warning them that I was fresh meat.

My breathing had leveled enormously. I wasn't hyperventilating, but I wasn't deathly silent.

Approaching the stairs, I made a mental note to grab some sort of protection before leaving the house...if I had to. That thing...

I shuddered. I couldn't think about that. I didn't want to see the image of a woman being ripped apart for the rest of my life. I would not be able to get over that. Nope.

Looking down the stairs, a flash of movement caught my eye. I froze, my heartbeat picking up. What was that?

"Dad?" I whisper-yelled into the darkness. Silence. It immediately sparked my interest. Slowly and cautiously, I crept down the stairs, once again placing my feet in places that would make the quietest sounds, if any at all. I didn't know what this was, if it was even my father at all. With that madness going on outside, I may be alone.

Honestly, that didn't scare me. Why didn't that scare me? I'm 10 years old and the idea of being on my own doesn't even make my senses twitch. Ever since my mother passed, I've grown more independent. Probably too much independent for a child my age. I've also realized that I'm more intelligent with how I speak, think, act. I don't complain about the little things. I haven't cried over anything in a year, not even her death. Am I heartless? What would mom say if she could read my thoughts right this instant? That's the only thing I don't want to do. Upset my mom, spiritually.

I got to the bottom step. It was dark, but a light in the kitchen illuminated the view in front of me. Something was smeared on the floor. I bent down and examined the substance. It was a sickly red color, as thick as sap and as bright as death. The scent filled my nostrils, making me gag. It smelled like old pennies. My mind clouded as the realization kicked in. There was blood on my floor. Something is in my house, and it definitely isn't my father.

Glass shattered in the other room, making me jump. Since this is a cliche moment, I walked towards where the sound was coming from...the kitchen. I peered around the corner of the hallway, glancing at what horror awaited me. I gasped.

Out of the fridge emerged...my father?

That was unexpected.

Well, it was totally expected, but in the least expected way possible. Did that even make sense?

I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief, casually strolling into the kitchen.

"Daddy, you really scared me for a second. I thought you were some sort of monster." I laughed. His back was turned to me, and he was making some mysterious sound. Fresh blood stained his shirt and pants, dripping a small trail behind him. I gasped. "Dad, you're bleeding! Are you okay? What's going on, have you looked outside? I saw a man kill a woman and her baby. I just...daddy...?"

Slowly and painfully, he turned around. My heart stopped.

You know what my favorite animal is? A sheep. Their just so cute and fuzzy, but mostly different. How many people do you know who's favorite animal is a sheep? Now, imagine a nice, fluffy white sheep. Good. What happens when you stab that fluffy, white sheep? It dies. Blood sprays from the wounds and coats everything around it, leaving a faint read stain behind. Blood drips from the mouth, obvious signs of choking have occurred. Now, take that image, and turn it into a human. That's what my father looked like in this moment. His flesh was peeled back to reveal muscle and bone. Chunks of meat had been ripped from his neck and arms. The person standing here wasn't the person I used to love. It wasn't the person who used to tuck me into bed and tell me everything would be alright.

No.

It was my father. But it wasn't my father. My father..he's a zombie now.