Ꮇ𝑦 ℤօｍ𝘣ⅈ𝖊 𝗕օ𝑦𝚏𝔯ⅈ𝖊𝖓꒯ ||Parkster

Abandoned; The Damage Is Done

"His eyes are those of a madman, sharp and at the same time focused on things well out of sight" ~ (The German - Thomas Lee)

Some of these Chapters will contain: Graphic Death, Blood & Gore, Vomiting, Suicidal thoughts, Self harm, Animal death

~You've been warned~

~~~

The surrounding towns and cities are in chaos, and all Parker wants to do is sleep.

No one really expects a sudden sickness to spread in the form of gore spattered faces full of biting teeth, unnerving speed, and unnatural strength. Probably from the constant adrenaline, or maybe it's the virus's desperation to infect as many people as possible.

Parker breathes in lungfuls of smoke from a nearby burning building, weaving through the wreckage of abandoned police cars and fire trucks as distant explosions drown out the screaming and gunfire. The air is sweltering and smells like burning sickness.

Everything's either on fire or abandoned. But all that is just background noise- a giant alarm clock that won't turn off, though wishing it would, because he can't remember being more tired in his entire life. Can't remember anything really, except for the strange sense of abandonment which almost offsets the intense hunger scratching at his skin with an intense ferocity.

The back of Parker's head is matted with blood, and it's hard to tell if he's staggering from a minor brain injury or if the virus is fucking his motor skills. Despite the hazy blend of sound and colors, one sense is naggingly clear.

Curious, he crouches to a partially eaten carcass and delicately scoops out a handful of scarlet viscera.

To his left, a frantic woman tries to start her dented and smoking vehicle after crashing into another. The window shatters and she's yanked outside by her hair, hysterical cries dying out when rabid jaws clamp down on her throat. The infected only gets a few bites in before moving on to another victim.

For a couple of painfully slow heartbeats, Parker simply marvels at the oily red organs glistening under liquid gold sunlight, then, tentively, has his first taste.

Meat fills his mouth, dangling, dripping, and his eyes flutter shut as he chews stringy flesh. What are you doing? A small part of him whispers. Parker's body involuntarily shudders when a jolt of something that makes him feel so alive lights up his nerves. This is so wrong. The feeling fades achingly fast, leaving him hollow when the hunger returns. And now, this corpse doesn't seem very appetizing anymore..

No, he needs new blood.

Slowly standing, his vision sharpens and he's fully awake, fully aware of the surrounding carnage. Blood laces the air like a fine mist and his gut clenches, from hunger or revulsion he doesn't know. The screams and terror on people's faces are like douses of ice water, but the fever pumping hot through his veins is demanding healthy flesh to infect.

Parker melds into the mass of infected, the back of his head becoming a dull throb that barely registers from the rising adrenaline. Disturbing memories begin to flash infront of his dark eyes.

"So, Everlyn," Parker starts as he leans his forearms on the table and clasps both hands together, "you say your boyfriend's been acting strange ever since he went to check out a strange noise coming from your basement?"

Everlyn nods, "I told him not to go down there.." She sits across the table, shaking her head as she tries to keep it together. "My father never let anyone in the basement. Even though he's gone now, it's always been the one place that was off limits. But the noises kept happening and-" her breath hitches as a loud thump echoes within the house, upstairs, punctuated by glass breaking. Parker shares a wide-eyed glance with his friend who startles at the sound.