The Dead Side ° horror ✔️

Chapter One

"Rick Grimes is swoon worthy!" Layla raved.

"I guess," I shrugged, ducking behind my book again. I'd only read the graphic novels, and I didn't like Rick honestly. I was more for his son, Carl.

"You guess?" She sputtered. Layla proceeded to launch into a rant about why Rick was so amazing while I ignored her. Max and Fang were my OTP and currently having a moment, which even Layla couldn't pull me out of.

I smiled and nodded as she spoke, not bothering to look at her. I just had to pretend I was listening because anyone who knew me knew that I sucked at eye contact. At some point, the conversation took a turn into the category of the boys at our high school.

I wasn't one for talking about boys, even if that particular boy happened to be one I wasn't utterly repulsed by. But the only boy I remotely tolerated was our friend, Tristan who was completely off limits because he didn't exactly like girls.

My motto? All boys have cooties.

At this time, if the air slowly poisoning the ozone layer got too toxic, we'd hear a citywide alarm and head to the cafeteria for the day. Today was the third time this week, so I calmly tucked my hardcover into my messenger bag and stood up.

But this alarm was different.

"RUN!" Someone screamed.

We all took our sweet time to decide what we were exactly going to do. Some yanked out their cell phones and filmed the kids dropping like flies onto the pavement. They'd clutch at their throats and cough before going still. By the time they'd suffocated, their faces had time to turn purple.

I whipped around to where Layla was standing.

She was on the ground.

Her body was shaking like she was seizuring while her hands gripped at her own neck like someone was choking her. She was struggling to breathe, to do something other than lie in this heap on the ground. She looked at me expectantly. But I didn't know what to do.

It took her about a minute to die.

One painful minute. Those aggravating sixty seconds in the depths of your own personal nightmare. I watched my best friend die.

But the worst part was when she came back to life.

Layla- no It, launched itself off of the ground and stared at me with cold eyes. They were rimmed with crimson, bloodshot and murderous. Her pupils had dilated in a way that made me want to pee my pants.

All I could do was run before It got me.

I shot up so fast my head hit the desk. The room was quiet now, meaning the soldiers had gone on their merry way from the scene. Now I was alone, and able to move on to my destination. I was trying to find my old house.

Stepping over a dead body- a dismembered dead body-, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the small mirror. Same brown eyes and blonde hair hanging limp on my shoulders. Same freckles and dried blood on my cheeks. The blood was from the last Creature I shot. It splattered warm and sickly every time.

I blinked once, twice, three times to make sure I was real. The only difference was the slight quickness in my pace and the fact that I seemed to know everything around me. From the smell of the blood on the windows and floor to the maggots buzzing around as they devoured the dead bodies.

I left as soon as I could.

The world was never sunny anymore; it all just took on this grey color from the perpetual overcast covering the once blue sky. But I never liked sunny days anyway, clouds helped me think. Now I would give anything to stop thinking just for one minute.