SURVIVORS

Prologue

Officially the first update!! WOO HOOO I'M SO EXCITED!! I hope you guys like it as much as I loved writing it! Alright enough jibber-jabber, lets get to it.

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"Stop! You're insane! What are you thinking!?" The intern researcher shouts as he snatches the bacteria producer out of the mad scientist's sturdy hands. He fumbles with the complex controls, wildly jabbing the delete, recall bacteria, and the escape buttons.

"It's too late you fool!" The scientist clamors. "The bacteria has already begun spreading! No one can stop the bacteria from multiplying!" Fire builds up inside the intern's eyes, the internal fire that has been raging since the barbaric experiment begun.

"NO!" He grasps the crazed scientist by the shoulders and slams him into the glass of the bacteria chamber. The glass shatters. A glowing, dusty substance leaks out of the infested cylinder, hissing as it spreads itself on the tile floor. The intern backs away with wide eyes, for he knows what the bacteria can do, but it is only fixed on its one target... The scientist. He sinks to the ground, the dusty material flooding over his body.

"Only I can stop it." He snarls as the bacteria spills into his ears, nose, and mouth. He gags and sputters until the bacteria nestles inside his body. "And it looks like it's a little too late for that." The sound of his voice becomes deeper and deeper until it seems almost inhuman. He strains to speak as his nails grow long and black, and his eyes intensify from a faded blue to a royal gold color. "You were a good partner, Phil," he growls as his teeth swell into individual knives and his skin turns a sickly pale blue-grey color. His body grows and his muscles multiply until his clothes are torn and hang off him uselessly.

He towers over Phil who cowers and tries to run, only to find himself in the grasp of a creature not only hideous and menacing to the eye, but one that filled you with the sort of fear that tells you the creature was designed in the fiery evil beneath our feet.

"It's a shame your wife and kids will never know how you died, at the hand of the king of New Earth," he barks, a twisted grimace crawling across his face. Phil squirms and wriggles, but it is no use. The creature raises its razor sharp claws and slices clean through Phil's chest. He drops to the ground. The fatal gash burns like searing hot oil had been dumped on his body. He writhes in pain and screams heart wrenching cries. The creature laughs a wicked, malicious laugh, in a state of crooked amusement. His warped joy is interrupted by a scent. A scent that brings him hunger and longing, full of warmth with a small drift of roses. And so full of blood...

So full of blood...

He is silent. Nothing can be heard but the cries of Phil and the shallow, fast breathing of his own lungs, but he can smell it. Oh, can he smell it. He has to go to it.

Now.

Being his unusually large self, he can barely fit through a doorway. The King of New Earth does not use doors, the creature thinks. He looks up toward the glass roof and instantly knows where the scent is. The scent is stronger- it has to be less than a mile away. He inhales a deep, savoring breath and leaps off the tile floor, his strength so great, it punctures the flooring and sends him blasting through the glass with ease. The muscles in his legs cushion his body, and his inhumanly large feet land with a surprisingly low impact. The creature smiles. He loves it. He loves the way he feels invincible.

The scent again touches his nose, and he runs to it, the cool, fall air whistling in his deformed ears. He can feel the excessive amount of the bacteria strengthening him and sucking human sentiment from his brain. The scent takes him through the thin forest near the suburbs and into the city. He will not be seen, as long as he uses the rooftops of the concrete buildings to conceal himself. His eyes rest on the roofs of the apartments and decides he would use the cars and semi-trucks as stairs. Using his astonishing speed, he leaps from the small car to the minivan to the semi-truck and ends up with a smooth landing on the roof. Not acknowledging the large dents in the cars, he hurdles alley after alley until the scent was so strong, he nearly cries out in desperation for it.

Then finally, he sees the source of the smell. A girl with a ragged braid across her shoulder, looking no older than sixteen- lost. The creature watches hungrily from his perch on the apartment roof. His stomach rumbles with need and ravenousness. The girl jerks her head back and forth, looking for a familiar surrounding, repeatedly running out to the street and returning. He can practically hear her heart beating and feel her blood pumping. The creature drools.

Soon it will feed... Soon...

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The sickening picture was up everywhere. Two pictures as a matter of fact, a man, wearing a baby blue polo shirt under a lab coat, and a girl no older than 16. The braid down her shoulder was ravished with red from the blood leaking down her neck and chest. She was torn up like a rag doll, dead as night, stiff as a board.

The man, (according to the news article), was found alive out in the middle of Redhaven street, but screaming and howling in pain. It was obvious that the emergency service workers could do nothing. The man had already lost 80% of his blood, and there wasn't a thing anyone could do about it. They gave him morphine to numb the pain, doing enough to let him say goodbye to his wife and kids. Pictures were taken by daring photographers- professional and unprofessional- and posted almost anywhere the eye could drift, even though they were almost immediately tugged down by police forces.

It was unclear what had happened. It was unclear what unholy thing committed this horrible deed. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, there was something to be afraid of in the little town of Lakeville, California.

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That's it for now, but I will see you all next Sunday!!! Also, make sure to check out The Famoux by famouxx, she is an amazing writer and her story's got me hooked. She has inspired me to write more and to be confident in my writing and put it out there, so big shout-out to her. Also, check out Royal Blood by 4everhannah, her writing is very inspiring and for some reason gives me "writing juice" (the stuff that makes me want to shrink into a little dark corner and write my little fingers away). Thanks so much for reading!! Luv 'yall :*