Zombie (WIP)

Chapter Eleven

Deadman Wonderland

Noise. That's all there was in the large room in the small building. From the time I walked in, music had blared in my ears. However, I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this was a club.

I sat at an empty table for a long time, trying my best not to get anyone's attention. Which wasn't hard to do when there were very few people in here. Every so often I would see a few shadows drift to the other side of the room, but other than that there was no movement.

Most of the people that came in here went straight to the bar, which was where Richard decided to stay. Wynn casually moved from one place to another. From the table where cards were passed back and forth, to the dance floor, to the bar beside Richard. It was as though she was the only life of the party.

And Terrance? Why, he was behind me, leaning casually on the wall. Even though I would like to believe that he was trying to stay hidden from the crowd like me, I couldn't help but notice the gun that was peaking out of jacket pocket.

He had not said anything or showed any other emotion besides boredom ever since I decided to stay at this table. But it was still obvious that he was just waiting for me to take a bite out of one of these poor, drunken souls. Although it was insulting, I couldn't blame him. If anyone else was in my position then I would also be afraid of them.

I wouldn't want my family member to be around them. I would be cautious. I wouldn't look at them as though they were the cure or a chance of hope. I would see them as a monster. I would see them for what they are.

I sigh at the thought. When did I become so depressing? Was it when the world died? Or did my happiness die with me? I raise my hand to my neck, expecting to touch my skin and pausing when I felt the paper-like touch of the flower. I take a deep breath in as I remember the bite. The enormous, gaping hole where my skin was supposed to be. The feeling of its rough edges coming to mind as the familiar thought of digging my own fingertips into the wound.

I then thought of someone biting me. Their scarred hands gripping me, roughly, as they held me down. I remembered struggling to move as they barred their dirty, broken teeth. The only things that I could hear were their animal-like growls and my screaming. Then, in an instant, they tore into my flesh.

"Hey." The thought slips away as a hand grabs my shoulder. I look up and see Terrance, narrowing his eyes at me. "Are you okay?" He asked. I nod, taking notice of his other hand holding the threatening item that was hidden inside of his jacket.

"I'm fine," I say coldly, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. I sigh, trying to calm myself down from the chilling pictures that had invaded my mind. I place my shaky hands in my lap, entwining my fingers together.

Terrance mumbled something under his breath before pulling up a chair. He turned the chair backward and sat with his legs straddling the back of the chair before throwing his gun onto the table in front of me. I look over at him. Terrance placed his chin on his folded arms that leaned on the top of the chair. "I'll still shoot you if you do anything," he stated. I glared at him.

"I know," I say. He glanced over at me.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

I raised a brow. "Talk about what?"

Terrance huffed out a breath. "About whatever it was to make you cry?" My eyes widen. Quickly, I wipe my cheek and, of course, there are tears on my hand. I wipe the other cheek and rub my eyes. "Don't do that, your face will get red. Then it will be obvious that you were crying," he said, annoyed.

Terrance, then, leaned forward and pulled a napkin from the metal holder. He handed it to me. I take it. "Thanks," I say as I continued to wipe the tears away.

"Don't thank me," he stated. I frown at his reply. I place my hands back on my lap when the tears are gone and notice that they were still shaking. It made me wonder if those horrifying pictures were actually a memory.

"Did it have to do with that ugly choker?" He asked. I looked up at him and shake my head. "Too bad. That would have made sense."

I sigh in agitation. The first time he actually took the time to talk to me and he is going to be rude. However, like I said, I couldn't really say anything because I would do the exact same thing. Instead of saying anything, I crumpled the napkin in my hands, trying to stop them from shaking.

Terrance glanced in my direction again. "Why do you have that thing on anyway? Was a gift?"

"Yes," I say, secretly wishing that he would go back to his corner.

"Who did you get it from?"

I didn't answer. Why didn't he just leave me alone? It wasn't as though I was going to lose all humanity and start tearing into the other people here.

"A family member?" I didn't answer. "A friend?" Silence. "A lover?" Nothing. Terrance sighed. "You know it's rude to ignore someone."

I glared at him. "Rude?" I repeated.

Terrance raised a brow at me. "What? Did your manners go with your need to breathe?"

I grit my teeth at his snide comment. "Well, your one to talk. Ever heard the phrase 'if you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all'? No one asked you to keep an eye on me and they surely didn't invite you to console me either."

Terrance glared at me. "Excuse me?" he asked, anger clear in his voice.

"You heard me," I say, to angry to realize the venom in his voice. "Last time I checked I was free from having a 24/7 watchdog, so there is no need for you, of all people, to be holding a gun to my head - much less for you to be checking up on me."

Terrance grabbed his gun off of his table, making me jump. He stuck it back into the pocket and turned away from me. I watch as he walks right out the door.

"Well, that was bad." I heard a familiar voice say. I turn and see Wynn standing in front of the table. She turned and smiled at me. "But he'll get over it once he blows off some steam." I bite my lip, realizing all the things that I probably shouldn't have said. Wynn skips over to me and pulls me out of my chair. "Don't worry about him. He's just difficult. Besides we have a poker game to play. It's no fun sitting over here by yourself." I look back towards the double black doors.

"But, shouldn't we at least make sure he's okay?" I ask.

Wynn shook her head, giving me one of her signature smiles. "Seriously, he's fine. Let it go - have some fun, play some poker. Terrance is just a big, moody baby."

[Author's Note]

Evening everyone!

Chapter eleven is done and a good length - I think. We actually got Terrance to speak in this chapter. Yay for character development!

And just because I want to brag, I just turned 17 this month! Yay!

Okay, I'm done. Comment and tell me what you thought of Terrance and the chapter, and what you think is going on in this crazy zombie world...

And, of course, vote if you liked the chapter.

Thanks for the patience, Flumpy ^•.•^