The Shine in Dead Eyes

The Beginning

A/N: New Story for Monday

P.S. Any mistakes will be edited out before midnight tonight. I have practice but I wanted to post this

GRAPHIC GORE

"Mom?" I cautiously stepped down the stairs. I heard another crash downstairs along with a bunch of loud grunts. I stopped as my foot caused the floorboard to creak. I could hear glass breaking. "Mom?" I finally got to the bottom of the steps. I made my way onto the tile floors. I could hear the sound of my skin sticking to the cold tile as a sobbing accompanied the silence. I reached for the light switch when my toes dipped into some sort of liquid. "Oh my god." I let out a shuddered breath. My foot was resting in blood.

"Scott?" My eyes followed the trail of blood to my father's broken skull. The blood oozed from the cracks and his brain was bulging through. His eyes were gouged in by thick marbles being forcefully slammed in. His torso was laying on his back but the way his lower half was resting with his butt in the air showed he had his body twisted. I noticed one of his arms was ripped from his body. There was a hand holding his. Her body was beautifully preserved. She was dead as well.

"Mom?" I knelt down next to her body because I was too scared to touch my dad's mangled corpse. "Mom, don't leave me." A twelve year old shouldn't have to beg for his mom like this.

"Scott?" I turned around to look at my older brother. There was blood dripping from his mouth and pieces of flesh wedged between his teeth. I screamed as he lunged at me. "Scott?" My feet were holding him away by kicking at his shoulders. My knees gave in and came to fold to bring my attacker closer. The blood of my parents drooled over my brother's decaying lips. I screamed as his tongue detached from him, coming to rest in the hollow of my throat. I let out a cry of disgust. His eyes were a deluded milky white.

"Joal! Stop!" There was a low gurgle that passed his lips. He couldn't articulate his words well without his tongue. But I could understand the one word he continued to repeat.

"Scott?" It was a pained question. It was like he was asking why I wasn't there to help my family. I rolled onto my back and kicked my brother off. He went flying across the room and I hid behind the kitchen island. My brother's attention was successfully taken off of me. I peeked around the corner. He went and knelt in front of our mother's body.

"No." I covered my mouth as his harsh movements ripped open her stomach. His gargled words seemed sad and lonely.

"Grl....mgrl....mom...." I turned so my back was pressed firmly to the counter. I didn't feel like I could take watching that any longer. I closed my eyes and prayed for the smacking of lips and the squishing of intestines to stop.

"Shit." My eyes fluttered open. I was in the abandoned house that I found last night. I hate nightmares. I sat up. That voice. It wasn't in my dream. It wasn't part of that horrible memory. I grabbed the flashlight next to my duffle and turned it on in the direction of the sound. It was pointed at a boy. He slowly put on a pair of black glasses that had one of the frames cracked.

"What are you doing?" He looked at his backpack and then at me.

"I'm stealing food." He said plainly. It's been a month since this....outbreak started and he was the first person I met who didn't bullshit me.

"Why didn't you just ask?" I turned on the vintage lamp that I found. The small flame lit the room in a dim glow.

"Most people aren't into askin' these days." I noticed the hint of an accent in his voice.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I can make a meal for us." I looked at his small body structure. This wasn't healthy. He looked starved.

"Wha'cha got?" The accent was more noticeable the closer he moved to me. He was still a good five feet away.