(Here's a little something...enjoy)

Blaine limped up to the bar’s warped doorframe. He could definitely use a fuckin’ drink after the shit he’d just been through. Stepping gingerly over the mangled corpses that littered his path he reached the counter and grabbed the first bottle he saw and downed as much as he could.

His eyes were pouring tears, of which he was oblivious. All he was aware of was the liquor rushing to his stomach and those images that kept playing through his mind.

…Screaming. claws rending flesh…organs torn and ripped from her body…so much blood.

He was puzzled, astounded, but that all took a backseat to his grief. It all changed so fast for him. He had a beautiful wife, and just a couple days ago he was eating dinner with her and his son.

My son…he was getting very quiet, and felt cold. Then his eyes…those eyes turned…

He shook his head, trying to clear it. They came that day. One minute everything was peaceful, life was fine. Then all fucking hell broke loose.

Smashing the doors, busting the windows; they went straight for her, ignored me the whole fucking time. They stripped her down and…and…

Blaine threw up. Those memories and chugging a bottle of whatever-the-fuck didn’t seem to agree with him. He wiped his mouth and tossed the bottle. Probably wasn’t a great idea to get drunk with the world the way it was now.

He took a moment to collect himself- deep breaths, in and out. He had to pull his shit together if he wanted to make it through this; well if was possible to make it through this.

Still, it boggled the mind. Tragedy coming before he could blink. Those God damned things everywhere.

A sudden rustling caught his attention and he whipped around. There was a young girl there, frail looking and pale. He relaxed a bit.

“Hey, what’re you doing here? Are you alright?” She inched a bit closer, staring at the floor. “Hey, come on kid I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl’s head rose, and Blaine’s heart sank. Her eyes were jet black; a pure solid black like the pupil took over the entire eyeball. He swallowed hard and reached for his knife. He’d been through this already and knew what was going on. This girl was dead; she was a host for one of those fuckers.

Blaine got up and in one swift motion plunged his hunting knife into her gut. A metallic, piercing shrill ripped through his head. He began sawing up through the ribcage while rotten innards spilled out all over the floor as well as something…different. A small creature plopped out with a sickening smack as well, nearly cut in half. It wheezed and huffed and tried to crawl away on malformed limbs. Blaine stomped on it with his boot, its blue blood splashed and it was silent.

He sat back down on the stool, glanced over at the mess he just made and felt a retching in his stomach but there was nothing left in there. With a sigh he leaned back and tried to collect himself. That wasn’t the first time he’d gutted something. He’d been hunting a great deal. The disturbing thing was that this was the second time he’d had to deal with something like this- the first being his son, though he wasn’t as quick on the draw.

“Hey, James, you don’t look so good. Come here, buddy let’s take a look at that.” He checked out the boy’s wound. It looked like it was healing nicely, but still the kid looked bad. “Well, let’s get some sleep. Maybe things will be better tomorrow.”

Late in the night waking up to a boy going through convulsions, Blaine took James in his arms and held him down until he stopped. He seemed to be calm now, but his eyes looked black…maybe that was just the moonlight.

The next morning went without incident. His son kept his head down, not making much noise. Blaine thought that maybe he was still in shock. Hell, he was surprised he was even able to function…not every day you see your wife ripped to pieces like a fucking piñata, but he had a son to think about.

They started walking though town, sticking close to buildings and cars and whatever provided cover passing death, destruction, immeasurable horrors. There were people strung up in power lines, crucified on lampposts, some just smeared on the sides of buildings. It was hell if there ever was one.

Later that evening James was getting sluggish, he fell down and when Blaine tried to help him up he noticed he was freezing…strange. Suddenly there was a jolt through his limp body. He bent in unnatural shapes, made a horrible gurgling sound. Then something burst through his back, his stomach, his head was cast off and rolled away. James’s body exploded into rags and scraps. Blaine was terrified, his son…his fucking son was gone and in his place there was evil. It wasn’t as big as the adults, but it was just as ugly. Horns and knobby protrusions were spread all over its speckled black and purple hide. It looked like poison and it technically was, for the human race anyway. Long black claws picked the remains of James off its body. Blaine took out his knife and went for the bastard, plunging it into the neck. It screamed, growled and swiped at Blaine scoring a large gash in his left leg. The creature was done for, though…it fell over and bled out. Blaine retrieved the knife and limped off before the bigger ones found him.

Blaine opened his eyes; he reckoned he’d be seeing that over and over again whenever they were closed. He got up and started walking towards the door, it was getting late and it was time to find a good place to hide. They weren’t active in the day as much as they were at night.

He walked down the abandoned street ignoring the grotesque horrors that decorated the landscape. Nothing surprised him anymore, and there was no happiness in him. For some reason, he still chose to live.

~Zoo