Love Bites ~ Craig of the Dead au ~ Tricia x Karen fan fiction [COMPLETE]

16

Outside, there's a long sound of something being dragged slowly against the wall, accompanied by the humming that of a creepy child in a horror movie.

"Oh my god, how annoying are these people?" Henrietta mutters, shuffling slightly.

Seconds later, the door is unlocked. It remains shut.

"What's going on?" I whisper, "why isn't the door opening?"

"Why are you asking me?" Henrietta scoffs, "I know as much as you do, idiot."

Karen whimpers beside me.

Deciding to take my chance of escape, I struggle and squirm until I'm on my feet, then push open the door with my back.

The hallway is quiet. No sign of the masked women. I can hear every tiny noise since it's so quiet.
The room we had been locked in is some kind of storage closet, but the shelves and equipment has been removed.

Cautiously, I begin approaching the next room, where our friends were taken. For some reason, the door is unlocked, meaning I can take a quick peek inside. I open the door a tiny bit and peer through the gap.

I have to bite my lip to conceal the gasp that wants to escape. I wish I'd never looked inside.

Every inch of the walls is covered in strange writing, either in red marker or blood. It's not a language I recognise and it doesn't seem to be any sort of pattern or code. There are small pictures along with the weird writing, but I can't quite make out what they are.

The carpeted classroom floor is stained and covered in dust, similar to the rest of the building, with pieces of rope and duct tape lying around. In the corner are two bodies. Firkle and Phillip. Beaten. Bloody. Dead.

What kind of sick bastard would do this? The world is fucked up. There are zombies crawling the earth and yet the things we have to be scared of are each other. Humans should be working together, but instead we're stealing and killing each other. It's fucked up.

I look down at my hands. A grubby oven glove has been taped over my tied up hands. Reluctantly, I bite the top of it and pull, straining both my neck and my wrists. The tape pulls at my skin, ripping up tiny arm hairs as I tug and tug at the oven glove. Eventually, the tape splits and the oven glove falls to the floor. I can't get the taste of dirt out of my mouth.

I push the door open a little more and check if anyone else is in the room. It's safe.

"Tricia, what's going on out there?" Karen calls out, keeping her voice down just in case.

"My hands are almost free. I might be able to get us out of here." I call back, tugging at the ropes around my wrists.

"How are..." Henrietta trails off and I immediately know what she's going to ask.

"I don't think they're okay. We can check in a minute."

I give another harsh tug at my wrists, but the rope won't loosen. In fact, it's getting tighter, which seems a little obvious in hindsight.

My eyes dart around as I look for something, anything to cut these ropes. I eventually spot a knife on the floor.

"Henrietta, I need you to do me a favour." I call.

"I'm not going to scratch your ass, dick face."

"That's n-what the heck, Henrietta?"

"Your hands are tied. What else would you need me to do?"

I manage to pick up the knife and head back to the storage closet.

"Help me cut my ropes." I hold the knife's handle out to her.

"I hate to break it to you, but my hands are also tied. You'll probably slit your wrists if you're gonna do what I think you're gonna do."

"Just hold the fucking knife, Henrietta." I snap.

With an eye roll and a long sigh, she reluctantly takes the knife and holds it out, with a tight grip so it won't slip.
Carefully, I rub the ropes across the knife blade, going back and forth repeatedly as Karen stares at me, fear filling her eyes.

"If you cut yourself and get blood all over me, I will drain every last drop of it from your body as revenge." Henrietta warns.

"Chillax. I'm almost done."

After a few more movements, the split rope falls onto her lap.
I take the knife from her hands and cut her ropes, then Karen's.

"Okay, we have to get out of here," I help the two of them to their feet, "Does anyone know the - why are you guys looking at me like that?"

With a quivering bottom lip, Karen points behind me.

"There's a mask woman behind me, isn't there?" I sigh.

She nods.

"Fuck."