‹ Prequel: Target Practice
Sequel: Moving Forward ›
Paramus
Chapter Two
Elliott didn’t think. Couldn’t think. He just ran right in. “No!” he cried. He wasn’t prepared for what he was running into; he would later note that he could never have prepared himself for what was waiting for him inside.
It was like a still from a horror movie. No, it was infinitely worse than that because it was very real and it was personal. Elliott felt sick.
The place was utterly trashed. There were obvious signs of struggle. Brown blood stains had soaked into the floors, splattered onto furniture, and small remnants of tissue and viscera littered some of the bloodier areas.
An involuntary, hysterical scream tore its way out of Elliott, and he collapsed to the floor. No, no, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. This was worst thing he’d seen since the start of the apocalypse, the worst fucking thing he’d seen in his whole life, and it had happened to his family in their home.
--
“Elliott! Wait!” Sebastian had shouted and ran after his friend, taking the rifle off his back in the process. Kurt and Adam drew their weapons and followed.
Immediately, they were hit with a sickly stench that Sebastian hated that he recognized as dried blood and rotting flesh. The only sound was the buzzing of so many fucking flies; that is, until Elliott screamed and fell to the floor.
Sebastian rushed to him, but he wasn’t sure what he’d intended to do. There was fucking nothing he could do. He hovered over his friend awkwardly.
God, Sebastian had never seen anything this bad. There was so much blood. Kurt and Adam searched the house,but they all knew there was nobody home. “Oh my God, Elliott. Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” a voice that sounded nothing like his own said.
The way Elliott had screamed would no doubt haunt Sebastian’s nightmares forever, as would this entire scene. His head was spinning. The oppressive heat suddenly felt that much hotter, and suddenly, he was acutely aware of the need to vomit. He ran outside into the fresh air and heaved up his meager breakfast. Once finished, he continued to dry heave and hyperventilate for several seconds before he remembered he’d left Elliott.
Elliott may have physically stayed where Sebastian left him, but Elliott was fucking gone, and had been since he’d hit the floor. He was practically curled in on himself, and he was sobbing uncontrollably. “We need to get you out of here,” Sebastian voiced the realization aloud. “Guys!” he barked at the others, “We need to get out of here now.”
Kurt and Adam both nodded, and they helped Sebastian get Elliott off the floor. “C’mon, Elliott,” Sebastian urged him, “Let’s go. We have to go.” They had to basically drag him out of the house.
It was obvious none of them had any fucking idea what to do or say. None of them had prepared for anything like this. How could they have been so stupidly naive?
--
They left the house in silence. None of them knowing what to say in the wake of such horror. They didn’t even know where they were going, just that they had to get away.
Elliott was moving on his own again, but otherwise he was still totally shut down. Sebastian didn’t know what to make of this, if anything, but seeing Elliott like this, going through such absolute hell and breaking down, was torture unlike anything he’d ever endured. Though he often tried to hide it, Sebastian was capable of empathy, but this was deeper than anything he could ever recall feeling. He felt a strange desperation to do literally anything, whatever he could do, to help Elliott, and part of him even thought he would take the pain on for Elliott if only he could.
But there was nothing Sebastian or any of them could do. He felt so helpless, and he fucking hated it.
It was like a still from a horror movie. No, it was infinitely worse than that because it was very real and it was personal. Elliott felt sick.
The place was utterly trashed. There were obvious signs of struggle. Brown blood stains had soaked into the floors, splattered onto furniture, and small remnants of tissue and viscera littered some of the bloodier areas.
An involuntary, hysterical scream tore its way out of Elliott, and he collapsed to the floor. No, no, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. This was worst thing he’d seen since the start of the apocalypse, the worst fucking thing he’d seen in his whole life, and it had happened to his family in their home.
--
“Elliott! Wait!” Sebastian had shouted and ran after his friend, taking the rifle off his back in the process. Kurt and Adam drew their weapons and followed.
Immediately, they were hit with a sickly stench that Sebastian hated that he recognized as dried blood and rotting flesh. The only sound was the buzzing of so many fucking flies; that is, until Elliott screamed and fell to the floor.
Sebastian rushed to him, but he wasn’t sure what he’d intended to do. There was fucking nothing he could do. He hovered over his friend awkwardly.
God, Sebastian had never seen anything this bad. There was so much blood. Kurt and Adam searched the house,but they all knew there was nobody home. “Oh my God, Elliott. Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” a voice that sounded nothing like his own said.
The way Elliott had screamed would no doubt haunt Sebastian’s nightmares forever, as would this entire scene. His head was spinning. The oppressive heat suddenly felt that much hotter, and suddenly, he was acutely aware of the need to vomit. He ran outside into the fresh air and heaved up his meager breakfast. Once finished, he continued to dry heave and hyperventilate for several seconds before he remembered he’d left Elliott.
Elliott may have physically stayed where Sebastian left him, but Elliott was fucking gone, and had been since he’d hit the floor. He was practically curled in on himself, and he was sobbing uncontrollably. “We need to get you out of here,” Sebastian voiced the realization aloud. “Guys!” he barked at the others, “We need to get out of here now.”
Kurt and Adam both nodded, and they helped Sebastian get Elliott off the floor. “C’mon, Elliott,” Sebastian urged him, “Let’s go. We have to go.” They had to basically drag him out of the house.
It was obvious none of them had any fucking idea what to do or say. None of them had prepared for anything like this. How could they have been so stupidly naive?
--
They left the house in silence. None of them knowing what to say in the wake of such horror. They didn’t even know where they were going, just that they had to get away.
Elliott was moving on his own again, but otherwise he was still totally shut down. Sebastian didn’t know what to make of this, if anything, but seeing Elliott like this, going through such absolute hell and breaking down, was torture unlike anything he’d ever endured. Though he often tried to hide it, Sebastian was capable of empathy, but this was deeper than anything he could ever recall feeling. He felt a strange desperation to do literally anything, whatever he could do, to help Elliott, and part of him even thought he would take the pain on for Elliott if only he could.
But there was nothing Sebastian or any of them could do. He felt so helpless, and he fucking hated it.