Someone once told me while ago, that I had a trait of seeing things for what they really are, and always picking on the fine details. Which, I suppose, is true. My eyes were specially tuned to noticing the small things, the hidden secrets. If someone was lying to me, my eyes would sharply snap to their fleeing eyes and their twitchy hands.
The person that told me this however, had never been so wrong.
Sometimes, when I gaze into the looming fortress of trees spreading across the rural landscape, I shiver with fear. The aged spruces seem to have faces in their ancient bark, and they twisted into wicked grimaces, winking at me from my bedroom window.
Before I saw the world for what it really was, the forest was a beautiful sanctuary for every living being that thrived under it's leafy web of green, but now I fear for them.
They live amongst bloodthirsty monsters.
The human race was delicately teetering on the tip of a pointed knife; on the edge of extinction.
If only they knew of the pale creatures hiding behind their thin leaves.
I had to remember the good things though. I still had him with me. Even if he was a little different. I didn't see him as the monster, which was odd. He was just like the others, except for one thing. He didn't embrace his new being, fight with his new found strength or lure innocents in with his hypnotising orange eyes. Oh no. He detested himself for what he has become. And it broke my heart to see him so sad.
I looked back from the window, and saw him seated on the chair opposite mine, cradling his guitar in his arms like it was his own life. His eyes were closed, and his long pale fingers pinched a plectrum between his thumb and index. He pulled at the strings, his left hand sliding up and down the frets rhythmically.
It had taken him a while to get his music back. They had taken everything he had, his music, his breath, his humanity.
He looked human in some ways, but he was a different creature altogether.
He was a creature with enough strength to crush bones in his fist. A creature with night eyes so alluring, it was impossible to resist. A creature with skin so pale and cold, you would think him a corpse if he lay still on the ground.
The creature that he was belonged in books of horror, ancient tales of lore, to stay trpped in dusty books of myth where they were created from the mind of Man.
But they were not conceived by over reactive brains. I did not know where they came from. Would God have made such creatures? Ones with such deadly weapons in their arsenal of tricks, that they could take a human life as if it where nothing? I didn't think so.
I didn't believe there was a God however.
I remembered the day I found him, after his transformation. He was so still. So pale.
And for some time as I lay beside the cold body, I thought that he was dead. That I'd lost him.
That's when he opened his eyes.
At that moment, every monster, every fire breathing dragon or bloodthirsty vampire from every tale of Myth broke into a thousand million pieces, and reassembled as one deadly immortal being.
Another undead was born.
--
It was dusk. The sky over the plane of thick grasses was streaked with brilliant scarlet against the navy. The thick wall of trees up ahead loomed threatenly from the top of the hill. A solitary wagtail perched on the fence, watching the small search party wade through the undergrowth with interest.
I didn't take in the wonderful scenery, because I was so terrified. My friend had gone missing the night before. We had been camping nearby with a few others when he left for firewood. My mother hadn't encouraged our camping trip, and said that a bunch of sixteen year olds should not be allowed to go alone. I had assured her that everything would be fine. I was wrong.
He didn't return to camp that night.
Tears threatened to fall as I called his name aimlessly through the stiff lump in my throat. I drift a little further from the other searchers, and stumble over a small bush. I fell to the ground, and scratched by hands on the thorny bracken.
My torch rolled away from my outstretched hand, and I shakily picked myself back up again, lifting it from the thick grass.
I came across a large puddle in a break in the grass, and stared onto it's glassy surface broodingly. My distorted reflection looked dejectedly back at me.
My long auburn hair was covering by tired blue eyes. By face was a little blotched from the previous tears. I looked a mess
I sniffed hard, and stepped through the puddle, not caring than the icy water flooded my Converses.
I kept my eyes low, looking, desperately searching for something, anything that would help me find him. The wagtail fluttered gracefully in front of me, a little streak of black and white as he sped to the fence up ahead, in front of the forest.
When I looked up again, the thick wall of greens and browns was right in front of me, staring menacingly from behind the fence.
The wagtail stared. His feathered tail did not bob up and down happily, nor did he burst into song. I pushed open the iron gate, closing it with a rusty shriek, leaving the bird on the fence.
I turned, and the forest invited me in with long grasping, wooden hands. Each twig curled into a little beckoning finger.
Something told me Chris would be in there. A forest is a good place for firewood, it was only logical that I look where he most likely have gone. I ignored the fact that the forest scared me stiff. I needed to put on a brave face and do my best to find him.
I shone the beam of light into the trees, and it only pierced through the inky darkness by a meter or so. I shivered, but not because of the cold.
My head turned to the right and the other beams where far away, walking the right perimeter of the trees. They wouldn't even notice I was gone.
I took a step over a large mangled root, and took a deep breath, blinking hard. The musky smell of rotten leaves, and the sharp scent of pine hit my nose. It wasn't intimidating, but it wasn't welcoming either. I took another breath, and began to walk between the tightly packed pillars of bark, ignoring my racing heart.
I walked most of the time with my head angled towards the ground. I jumped at every crack, every shuffle among the leafy bushes and rough bracken. The forest was full of life, and I couldn't see any of it. The darkness hid its residents well.
The trees seemed to be identical; I felt like I had been walking in circles. I rubbed my hot palm where the scratches ran across it. It was the only part of me that was warm now. I shivered violently as I trudged through the trees, by eyes wildly searching now. I was desperate. I needed to find him.
I shone my torch up when I noticed something white, lying low on the ground. I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching painfully in my throat.
A long, pale hand was outstretched, motionless on the ground. And reflecting off the beam of my torch, a massive pair of glassy eyes, turning green as the light bounced of the them. If the eyes weren't so high up, I might have thought it a cat or a deer. But these eyes were huge.
My heart stopped. I didn't breathe. I couldn't breathe.
I could hear hoarse panting, and the cloudy breath coming from the same direction of the eyes. They lowered, and I could hear something being lifted off the leafy floor. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
The thing was holding something in it's mouth.
It stared for a moment, pacing, as if trying to decide something. Then with the thudding of paws, it disappeared into the black.
I fell to my knees. There was no noise. The hand didn't move. I shook violently.
When I dared to crawl closer, I could see a thin arm, moving up onto shoulders, and a face as pale as snow, contrasted with dark brown hair. His grey T-shirt was slightly ripped at the shoulder, but his jeans and black Converse were perfectly intact. His eyes were closed.
I felt like a bus had hit me when I saw his lifeless face.
Chris.
I suddenly sprang into action, forgetting about the animal I had just seen. I dropped beside his motionless body, shaking him.
He was as stiff as rock. His skin was as cold as ice. He was... I forced the word out of my head.
"Chris! Wake up!" I cried through thick tears that were suddenly falling, as he remained unresponsive. His lips were slightly parted, and they where as white as his skin.
It was useless. He was gone.
"No!" I sobbed, leaning my head over his chest, covering my face with my hands and sobbing. I couldn't stop for a while. My whole body was numb with turmoil.
When I did, the forest was lighter than before. The sun must be returning.
My head span, and I had double vision. I rubbed them, and things seemed to get a little clearer in the numbness. My heart throbbed painfully on my ribs. I reached out, and touched his face, willing him to wake. The cool of my hand matched his cheek.
Then I noticed the red stain on his left shoulder, coming from the rip.
My freezing hand hovered over it. Then I gently pulled the neck of his shirt back, and looked at the wound. It was shaped like a half moon, with serrated edges. The gears in my numb mind grinded until I recognised the shape.
It was a bite mark.
My stomach whirled like a washing machine, and my tongue prickled. I got up with my head spinning, gagging on the smell of fresh blood, before being sick behind a nearby bush on my hands and knees.
I was shaking like a leaf, and I couldn't stop. I coughed loudly as my throat burned.
Then I heard it.
I single, quiet whimper.
I spun around. Chris's eyes were not closed peacefully, but where now scrunched up, closed tight in pain.
A dead body cannot whimper. A dead body cannot close his eyes tight like that.
I scrambled over to him. He groaned, and began to move more. He rolled onto his side, covering his temples with pale hands.
"Chris? Chris!" I shook him, and he jerked and twitched in my arms. "Stay awake!" I ordered him, my voice breaking in wild panic.
Then suddenly, he opened his mouth and exhaled harshly, before taking in a large breath and screaming, the noise ripping through the night. It was a scream of total agony.
I staggered back, the blood curdling noise sending fire up through my ear canal as I stared, horrified, at the pale figure on the ground.
He was still all of a sudden, the noise dying in his throat slowly.
The torch was lying on the ground, aimed it his now reanimated body, casting it into dull yellow light. I walked by it, closer to the him. He shuddered violently was last time, and then he was still.
"Chris?" I edged closer. He was silent still. I was standing over him, listening to his laggard breathing, my eyes wide in horror.
What had happened to him?
Was he dying?
Could I save him?
Then his eyes snapped open, and he gasped loudly.
They were bright, vivid orange. They glowed dimly in the dark clearing.
He was like a blind man seeing the world for the first time, staring up from where he lay on the forest floor.
He slowly got to his feet, staggering back into the thin trunk of a pine tree. His eyes were wide, and the fluid amber irises stood out even more in the dim clearing. He kept his eyes angled towards the ground.
I whispered his name again, but he didn't seem to hear me. I picked the torch up, and held it up.
My heart was grinding hard against my ribs, and something inside me was screaming at me to run, to get out now. But I didn't know of or see any danger. It was only instinct that guided me.
Then he turned his head slowly, his eyes piercing right through my own.
"April," he whispered my name so quietly, I could barely hear.
"Are you alright?" I said hoarsely, and it seemed a idiotic question to ask. He didn't look alright. Just a while ago, I had thought he was dead. He still looked like a corpse, he was deathly pale apart from some colour returning to his lips.
I took a rushed step forward, and he stumbled back, his hands raised, palms towards me, as if in surrender.
"Don't come close." I stopped in my tracks.
"Your eyes. What...how..." My voice drifted and he refused to answer.
"Chris, tell me what happened to you."
He shook his head, eyes wide in horror. His whole body was shaking. He turned, and pushed one palm to the bark, his head bowed. The orange glow dissapeared as he shut his eyes.
"You need to get out of here. Before...it..." He shuddered. I was beginning to get extremely frightened. What was going on? I needed to get him back to the search party so we could get him to a hospital.
A beam of light shot through the clearing. The sun was rising.
"Chris, let me take you to the hospital. Please! Everyone is worried...let me take you home."
A tremor shook him one last time, and then he stood as still as a statue. When he opened his eyes again, they did not glow. When he turned, I looked into now cold, grey irises. The eyes of a blind man.
I stuttered incoherently. I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what to think. In the end, I decided that my eyes where playing tricks from all the crying.
He nodded slowly and shuffled towards me. I stopped, at let him catch up so I could keep an eye on him.
"Can you walk?" I asked him, eyeing him as he straggled, dragging his feet through the dry leaves. He nodded, and pushed his hand through his thick, dark hair.
When we reached the opening in the trees, and stepped out onto the field, I could hear loud voices, now calling Chris's name and my own.
I turned towards the noise; it was coming from the left of the field, blocked by the fringe of trees.
I cupped my hands to my mouth and yelled, "We're over here! I've found Chris! We're here!"
The calling of our names got louder, as a group of people, accompanied by two police officers and a sniffer dog came running up the field.
I was greeted by my teary mother, who nearly tackled me when she saw me standing at the edge of the trees.
After bouts of hugs and tears, we were allowed home. All the time, Chris stayed silent. He only spoke once, to insist that he didn't need to go to the hospital, and would be happier at home.
I insisted that I stayed with him, and my mum reluctantly allowed me to.
Over all the confusion fear and tears, everyone had failed to notice the colour change in his eyes. They had once been brilliant blue, but now looked clouded and dull. When he had come downstairs in fresh clothes, there was no bleeding from the wound I had seen. It should have needed stitches, but it was like it healed overnight. It must be all in my head, I thought to myself, as I sat across the table from him.
He kept his eyes down, staring at the wood. I pushed the plate of food his mum had made up for him under his nose.
"Eat something," I ordered, trying to catch his detached gaze.
"I'm not hungry."
"Please Chris, you haven't eaten in a while." I pushed the plate a little closer to him.
"I... I'm not hungry for...that." He pushed the plate back.
I sighed exasperatedly.
"Then what can I get you?"
He shook his head bluntly.
We were silent for a few moments. Something horrifying must have happened in that clearing. And I was desperate to know what.
"Chris."
He looked up and I gazed into clouded eyes.
"Tell me what happened to you. I can help you." He was already shaking his head before I had finished. "I'm your best friend Chris. You can trust me. I promise."
"You'll never believe me," he whispered, dropping his gaze.
I reached across the table for his hand, and had to stop myself from gasping at the cold touch. He flinched at first, but then he relaxed.
He sighed, giving in. "There were...two. Two..." he seemed to struggled finding the final word. "...others," he finally finished. "I saw them when I was collecting the firewood at the edge of the forest. They looked...like... well, how I look now I suppose." I felt his hand shake a little under mine. "The leader greeted me. He seemed... excited. He said to the girl with him, 'will he do?'
"I didn't know who they were, or what they were after. They asked me where we were camping. They told me of a good place in the wood to set up camp, that was better than the one we were at. They offered to show me."
He pulled his hand from under mine, looking away. "I don't know why I followed them. I guess I was intrigued by the strange glowing of their eyes. They always stayed some distance in front, like they didn't want to get close.
"I knew I was in danger when the girl whispered to the guy with her, 'Do you think we're far away enough from the other humans yet?'
I quickly made an excuse and was turning to leave, when the girl turned. Her eyes were wild with..." he paused, and shut his eyes tight.
I nodded in prompt when he opened them again, and he continued, "...wild with hunger."
My breathing stopped abruptly.
"She bit me on the back of the shoulder, and I fell to the ground. Everything was fast then. I could hear howling. It wasn't from them though. I could hear someone running, and another screaming and growling. Then I could see a beam of light coming from behind me. Then everything went black."
There was an overwhelming silence. It crashed on my ears as I took in this information. I didn't know what to think. It was absolutely absurd, but I found myself believing him.
But that didn't answer the question: What had attacked him that night?
He began to speak softly again, but it still startled me when I heard his voice.
"Then I woke up. And you were there. And I could see...everything. It was like my sight had been improved by a thousand times. I could see all the way up to the top leaves on the pine, even though it was pitch dark. I could hear a car on the road beside the field, even though it was far away. It was amazing." His grey eyes seemed animate as they sparkled.
"But after I leaned against the pine when the sun rose... I felt like everything was being zapped away. Then when I opened my eyes, and...I couldn't...see."
He looked up.
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged, as if it were nothing. "I can't see very well now. It seems when my eyes changed, I couldn't see as well as when they glowed. You're just a blur to me right now." He paused, twiddling his thumbs.
"You don't seem so scared anymore."
"I'm not. I just need to find out what attacked me. I already have a fairly good idea..."
He stood with sudden finality. "That's what happened. Believe it or not, it's your choice." His head turned towards the shut door.
"I think I hear your mum is coming. You should get your stuff."
I raised a eyebrow quizically. I couldn't hear anything. But sure enough, she burst through the door, insisting that I leave, as school started in two days and I needed to get my bookcase tidied.
There was a short conversation, and then I had to say goodbye.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked dubiously.
"I guess," he said, looking to the side at nothing in particular.
That night, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was worried sick. Something was different about him. The cold pale skin, and the dull, grey eyes that glowed at night.
I wondered aimlessly into my brothers room.
"Hey sis," Andrew greeted me, not looking up from his TV screen as he slammed buttons on his Xbox 360 controller. I took a seat beside him on the squishy sofa, watching him play.
It was the usual, Call of Duty 5. He was playing his favourite game mode, 'Nacht der Untoten' which apparently meant, 'Night of the Undead' in German or something.
I watched at his soldier blasted round after round at stumbling figures, who were moving at a slow gait. Andrew pressed the 'x' button to reload, and the soldier ripped the magazine from the gun, turning round.
And there, stumbling towards the screen was a growling, orange eyed zombie, covered in blood with gaping wounds all over his body. His dead, pale skin made him look like a ghost.
I screamed, jumping off the sofa in terror. Pure panic flooded me like a bucket of icy water had been thrown over me. The orange eyes, the shuffling gait, the pale skin...
Chris had been bitten by a zombie.
And now he was one of them.
?