Monday, 16 January 2012

Human Hunt - Part 2

Hi! How is everyone? I don't really have much to say this week other than that it's my birthday on Wednesday! I'm turning 14 (finally catching up with all my friends) and I'm having a mini party on Saturday :)
Anyway, here's Human Hunt Part 2. if you haven't read Part 1 click here. Enjoy!

Human Hunt Part 2

The hall was long and slender, an arching staircase breaking off at the wall to his right. The doors to the rest of the house creaked open in the sudden breeze and everything was dark and silent. Simon placed a tentative foot forward. The floorboards creaked and Simon smiled. Perfect. They needed to scare the humans - a dark, ominous, creaking house was more than able. They might as well not be here.

Simon motioned for the rest of the zombies to join him. The group hurried forward, their faces twisted with adrenaline. Simon smiled at them and placed a finger on his lips. He took a step forward and then another and then another....

He weaved his through the house, looking in the rooms for a door, any door that was small enough and secret enough for the humans to mistake for safety. He and his gang passed through the kitchen, the living room, the study. All were empty, but Simon expected that. He knew where the smallest door would be. The bedroom, a place for storage maybe, hidden behind a long forgotten wardrobe. It would be there. These houses always had one, or two cubbyholes.

Simon walked up the stairs, stepping in the middle of the steps for maximum creak. Saliva was building in his mouth with the thought of humans, with their milky flesh and straw like hair. Simon looked up and saw a door in front of him. It was in pristine condition bar a single vertical scratch on it. Simon ambled forward and leaned in for a closer look. It was made in the last half hour, and there was a minuscule white shard in the groove. A fingernail.

Simon grinned and nodded at the two men behind him. Their eyes lit up and they hurried forward. One of the men opened the door and Simon marched forward. The room was a lurid pink colour, with white frills round the edges and on the drawn curtains. Simon’s eyes swept the room, searching for a wardrobe, a chair, something the humans could and would use to cover their den. Instead, his eyes were drawn to a sparkling object on the floor.

Simon walked towards it, his brow furrowed. It was a necklace, a familiar one...Simon bent down and picked the chain up in his hand. It was thin and choker-like, with only a single charm - an arrow shot through a heart. Simon turned it over and his frown deepened. There was a tiny A on the back. He recognized it. He had seen it before, he just couldn’t remember where. Was it another zombies? A little girl’s he had once noticed? No, it couldn’t be something like that. Something in his head was screaming that it was significant. The answer suddenly popped into his mind. It was Andrea’s, his daughter’s. Simon felt his heart sink slightly in his chest. She must have left here before she died. Or maybe another human had picked it up. Simon tucked it inside his pocket, a sigh pressed on his lips.

He turned and looked around the room. There was a huge, oak wardrobe at the far side, and the other men were huddled around it. Their eyes were alight with fire and hunger and there was saliva dribbling out their mouths. “Should we push it?”

Simon stepped forward and glanced though the tiny gap between the wall and the wooden slab. There was a minute door handle. Lines crossed over the dust that settled there - places where someone had grabbed it. 

Simon leaned back and smiled. “Yes.”

They slid their fingers down the back of the wardrobe. They yanked backwards and it moved slightly, creaking across the floor. “Again!” The men pulled a second time and it moved further, just enough for a man to squeeze in. Perfect.

Simon looked at the door and then turned back to the men. He raised his eyebrows. “Em...Martin? Would you do the honours?” Martin’s face lit up with joy, and a grin spread across his face, showing a row of ugly, grey teeth.

“Can I?”

“Yup. Now, go!”

Martin smiled and shimmied into the gap. He barely fit and Simon could see the muscles in his stomach working ferociously to keep him upright. He folded his hand around the door handle and took a deep breath.

“Three, two, o-”

The door burst open, sending Martin backwards into the wardrobe. He slumped onto his side and a foot slammed into his chest. Simon heard something snap. He peeled his eyes from Martin’s limp frame and looked up at the attacker. It was a girl, about 17. Her brown hair was short and swept along her jaw in ragged spikes. Her eyes were a dark brown, fringed with specks of green. There was a bow slung across her back and an arrow in her hand. She glanced up and her face went pale.

The girl opened her mouth to say something, but her words were drowned by the sound of the other man shouting. He howled in rage and hurled himself at her. The girl quickly peeled her eyes off of Simon’s, and in one fluid movement, she loaded the arrow into the wooden curve of the bow and fired. The arrow sped through the air and landed in the zombie’s chest.  Blue liquid flooded the wound and the man collapsed, jerking and writhing in pain. The girl loaded another arrow and pointed it at Simon.

“Down. On the floor.”

Simon crouched on the pink carpet. He recognized that face. He knew he did. The girl bent over him, the arrow pointed at his chest. Simon saw a thin line around her neck, where something had been pressing. The necklace. It was hers. Which meant...


The girl’s eyes lit up, and she lowered her bow. “I knew it was you. I’d recognize that silly tie anywhere.” Her face suddenly darkened and she raised her bow again. “You were going to kill me.”

Simon gulped. “I-I wasn’t, sweetie.”

“Then who were you going to kill?”

“Other, not you.”

“Just...other humans?” Simon saw her eyes catch on the silver chain of the necklace that was poking out of his pocket. She motioned to it with her bow. “What’s that?”

“I-it’s your necklace. I found it on the floor. Look, darling, why don’t you just lower the bow...”

Andrea slammed her foot down. “No, I’m keeping it up. And don’t call me darling. You hated me! Now that it’s me that has the weapon...well, now we change our tune.”

She leant forward and pulled the necklace out of Simon’s pocket. She was so close. Simon could smell the lingering scent of the perfume she always used to wear. Whether that was just his imagination, he couldn’t tell. Andrea placed the necklace on the floor and furrowed her brow.

“Andy, please...”

“And my name is Andrea. You know I hate Andy. Anyway, let’s get down to business. Your friends, any more of them?”

Simon nodded. “Two outside, and maybe fifty in the other houses.” He couldn’t help but smile. “I organised a human hunt.”

“A human hunt? You disgust me. And you organised it? You couldn’t organise anything!”

“I can now, sweetie. I’m mayor.” His chest puffed up with pride, hurting his stomach.

“Mayor? Are you serious?” Andrea laughed but it was hard and fake. “Mayor of the monsters. It suits you, Dad. What with what happened at home...”

Simon felt anger rise in his chest. “I didn’t leave you! Your mum left me!”

“Sure. I heard all the arguments, Dad. I heard mum’s screams when you hit her. You might as well of left. You drove her out, you sick scumbag.”

Andrea’s foot connected with the side of Simon’s head and he winced. “Andrea, don’t do this. I have forces, and they will kill you.”

Andrea stepped forward and pointed her arrow at his chest. “They won’t know I’m here if you don’t tell them.”

Sweat beaded on Simon’s forehead. “Andrea, don’t...please...”

“Sorry, Dad. But I’m not being beaten down by you again, ok? You or your repulsive friends. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Her hand pulled back and the fingers flexed. The bow was tight now, so tight...

“Andy...Please don’t kill your dad...”

“I’m sorry.”

There was a ping and Simon felt the arrow shot into his chest. He fell onto the floor, and just before his eyes closed for the last time, he saw the necklace and its single charm - an arrow, through a heart.


Caroline said...

:O Wow Jenni!

Rosanne Dingli said...

I was asked by a friend to visit your blog and I have, not knowing what to expect. Your writing is more mature than I anticipated. Your prose is better than your poetry - you're right about that. I have been an author for half my life, so I should discourage you, but I can't after having read some of your stuff. So good luck - I think you already know it's a hard industry.

Lily♥ said...