“Come on, it won’t do any harm!”
Armin shoved Jack towards the tall, cold chain-link fence imprisoning the school basement, meeting it’s gaze with eager, nervous eyes.
“It was caged off for a reason, Armin.”
“Come on!!”
“We can’t just go around trespassing wherever we feel like it!!”
“Come on!!!”
“Armin…”
Jack pushed Armin aside as he strode away from the fence, letting Armin take his place in front. Armin weaved her fingers through the gaps in the fence, finding a suitable foothold to climb on. Smiling, Armin hooked a foot through a gap in the fence.
“Armin, what are you doing?”
“Being awesome!”
“Oy vey..”
Armin slowly began to scale the fence, swinging around occasionally to give Jack a cheeky grin.
“Fine. I’ll come with.”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear!”
“Wait up.”
_____________________________________TWO MINUTES LATER..._____________________________________
Armin and Jack swung themselves over the fence and onto the ground, wet paint splashing up to meet their shoes.
“Ew, gross.” said Jack, shaking the paint off his foot. Armin (as immature as she is) splashed around in the paint like a five-year-old in a puddle, enjoying herself.
“Quit screwing around.”
“You don’t even know what we’re doing here, fool!!”
Jack grimaced slightly as he looked down the stairs, pondering as to if the red substance was paint- or blood. Jack slightly agreed with the latter, decoding a striking difference between paint and blood.
“Come on, let’s go down the stairs!!”
“Very well… but it’s not my fault if we get murdered down here.
Armin led the way like a sled dog as they padded down the stairs, taking their time as the red “paint” got thicker and thicker as they advanced down. Torrent’s of suspicions rained down in Jack’s mind, which made him see his school in a whole new light.
“Could’ve people… died down here?” thought Jack, sweat beading his forehead as they hit the last step.
“Oh, damn it!”
A large, wooden door blocked them from entering- chains, locks, nails and bolts securing the rotting door.
“Well, that’s too bad eh, Armin? Looks like we have to go back up!”
“Not so fast, scaredy cat!”
“Armin. You’re seventeen. Could you be a bit more creative?”
Armin shoved Jack into the cold concrete wall as she approached the door, jiggling the lock and chains a few times.
“These are all duds! Plus, the wood is rotten! It’ll be easy as to kick down!”
“I really do think we should go back up.”
“Aw, don’t be such a sourpuss!”
Armin lined herself up with the middle of the door, and obliterated it in one sharp kick, leaving a myriad of locks, nails, bolts, chains and (somewhat) shrapnel to litter the floor. Wiping her foot on the ground, Armin strolled into the room behind the door, beckoning for Jack to follow her.
Jack followed on, only to feel his stomach lurch as the stench of rotten meat, sulphur and formaldehyde filled the room with an uncertain malevolence.
“Don’t you think this is a li-”
A loud, echoing screech rang out through the room, followed by a series of lurching moans, cries and screams.
“Armin, quit it!”
“It wasn’t me, I swear!”
“Oh, sure it wasn’t!”
Jack felt around the wall for a light switch- only to flick it on, and be greeted by a herd of rotting, angry, teenaged walkers. Even worse, Jack recognised each one.
Jack yelled out as the zombies wandered aimlessly- only to hit Jack and Armin right on target with Jack’s careless cry.
“Oh, good one, Jack!”
“SHUT THE HECK UP AND START RUNNING!!”
Jack gripped Armin by the shoulder as he sprinted up the stairs, slipping on the stairs as blood flooded to meet them. Armin struggled to keep up with Jack, combined with a rather low fitness level and lots of walker blood.
“Jack, WAIT UP!!”
Armin cried out as she slipped and fell in a puddle of walker blood- only to have one of the walkers grip her by the ankle, followed by another.
“Armin, kick them off!! Kick them off!!”
“I can’t!!
“They’re 100% rotting flesh! You can do it!”
“Well… HOW ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND HELP ME!!”
Jack grabbed Armin’s wrist and struggled to haul her out of the herd, only to have a third walker grab her by the wrist.
“We’re screwed.”
“You said it, buddy.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
Armin shoved Jack towards the tall, cold chain-link fence imprisoning the school basement, meeting it’s gaze with eager, nervous eyes.
“It was caged off for a reason, Armin.”
“Come on!!”
“We can’t just go around trespassing wherever we feel like it!!”
“Come on!!!”
“Armin…”
Jack pushed Armin aside as he strode away from the fence, letting Armin take his place in front. Armin weaved her fingers through the gaps in the fence, finding a suitable foothold to climb on. Smiling, Armin hooked a foot through a gap in the fence.
“Armin, what are you doing?”
“Being awesome!”
“Oy vey..”
Armin slowly began to scale the fence, swinging around occasionally to give Jack a cheeky grin.
“Fine. I’ll come with.”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear!”
“Wait up.”
_____________________________________TWO MINUTES LATER..._____________________________________
Armin and Jack swung themselves over the fence and onto the ground, wet paint splashing up to meet their shoes.
“Ew, gross.” said Jack, shaking the paint off his foot. Armin (as immature as she is) splashed around in the paint like a five-year-old in a puddle, enjoying herself.
“Quit screwing around.”
“You don’t even know what we’re doing here, fool!!”
Jack grimaced slightly as he looked down the stairs, pondering as to if the red substance was paint- or blood. Jack slightly agreed with the latter, decoding a striking difference between paint and blood.
“Come on, let’s go down the stairs!!”
“Very well… but it’s not my fault if we get murdered down here.
Armin led the way like a sled dog as they padded down the stairs, taking their time as the red “paint” got thicker and thicker as they advanced down. Torrent’s of suspicions rained down in Jack’s mind, which made him see his school in a whole new light.
“Could’ve people… died down here?” thought Jack, sweat beading his forehead as they hit the last step.
“Oh, damn it!”
A large, wooden door blocked them from entering- chains, locks, nails and bolts securing the rotting door.
“Well, that’s too bad eh, Armin? Looks like we have to go back up!”
“Not so fast, scaredy cat!”
“Armin. You’re seventeen. Could you be a bit more creative?”
Armin shoved Jack into the cold concrete wall as she approached the door, jiggling the lock and chains a few times.
“These are all duds! Plus, the wood is rotten! It’ll be easy as to kick down!”
“I really do think we should go back up.”
“Aw, don’t be such a sourpuss!”
Armin lined herself up with the middle of the door, and obliterated it in one sharp kick, leaving a myriad of locks, nails, bolts, chains and (somewhat) shrapnel to litter the floor. Wiping her foot on the ground, Armin strolled into the room behind the door, beckoning for Jack to follow her.
Jack followed on, only to feel his stomach lurch as the stench of rotten meat, sulphur and formaldehyde filled the room with an uncertain malevolence.
“Don’t you think this is a li-”
A loud, echoing screech rang out through the room, followed by a series of lurching moans, cries and screams.
“Armin, quit it!”
“It wasn’t me, I swear!”
“Oh, sure it wasn’t!”
Jack felt around the wall for a light switch- only to flick it on, and be greeted by a herd of rotting, angry, teenaged walkers. Even worse, Jack recognised each one.
Jack yelled out as the zombies wandered aimlessly- only to hit Jack and Armin right on target with Jack’s careless cry.
“Oh, good one, Jack!”
“SHUT THE HECK UP AND START RUNNING!!”
Jack gripped Armin by the shoulder as he sprinted up the stairs, slipping on the stairs as blood flooded to meet them. Armin struggled to keep up with Jack, combined with a rather low fitness level and lots of walker blood.
“Jack, WAIT UP!!”
Armin cried out as she slipped and fell in a puddle of walker blood- only to have one of the walkers grip her by the ankle, followed by another.
“Armin, kick them off!! Kick them off!!”
“I can’t!!
“They’re 100% rotting flesh! You can do it!”
“Well… HOW ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND HELP ME!!”
Jack grabbed Armin’s wrist and struggled to haul her out of the herd, only to have a third walker grab her by the wrist.
“We’re screwed.”
“You said it, buddy.”
TO BE CONTINUED...