Origins of Blood Chapter 3: Chapter 2: The End of Earth

Read chapter 3 of Origins of Blood by Bloody_Potato on NovelPedia.

Elliot’s POV—Red Blood “The world is breathtaking in its chaos. Terrifying in its order. But I must uphold both.” “They bit ya?” “Sure, no shit …” he holds the trigger tight, “… your leg ain’t full of blood, he?” “I am not—” Pow! My body jerks involuntarily. Pow! Tinnitus rings in my ears. Pow! A scream—my own. I touch the blood oozing from my ear. Pow! He screams too. The zombies hurl over him—a hand claws at my calf, but I stomp on it and jump through the window. Wind hits me with an odor I can’t order, and as it strikes me with howling screams, my left shoulder swells with blood. His screams echo in my ears; muscles tear as he pleads for God’s mercy. Pow! But I can’t look back; I must find Ren. —break— Turning left, I run across the rough asphalt and pass a tree trunk marked with a thick white cross, signaling the entrance to my home in another hundred feet—my brother’s and mine. We used to play here as children till mom and dad passed away. My feet move faster than my arms, almost causing me to fall over. But as I turn right, the fresh lawn enters my nostrils, now that the snow has thawed. It feels warm for winter. Yet, I swallow hard, as the door remains wide open. The ground is stained with blood. In the distance, more gunshots echo, and the sky crashes further. “No,” I repeat each time, more breath than words. I call out my brother’s name, entering the house; my right hand braces against the wall. Pictures of Ren and me, along with old photos of our parents, hang nearby. I move farther down the corridor, following the crimson-stained wood. “Come on, buddy, don’t play me!” I bare my teeth as the TV plays to my right—a monotone speaker. “Lio?” My heart eases, and my feet almost send me flying up the wooden stairs. “Coming!” but my knee hits the edge of a stair, and I hit my chin. Growling, I push myself upstairs, jumping the last stairs, and open the door with ragged gasps. “Who’s … that ?” “I don’t know, man,” his eyes flicker, “found him in the backyard with a gun and a wound.” Ren’s hands press into an unsavable wound, and intestine seeps between his fingers. I rush forward, my hands still shivering. “He’s … dead,” I say. But Ren won’t stop, not even after minutes go by, while I take off my shirt and look for bandages or anything to help the wound on my shoulder and ear. “You got shot?” His voice trembles through watering eyes. “Kinda,” I lay my shirt over the bitten thigh. This, he can’t see for God’s sake. Ren lifts some liquor and pours it over my left shoulder. “Ear, too,” I whimper. My face twists. It burns; however, soon the fire is suffocated by more fire. “What about the bullet?” he watches my shoulder, “going to a hospital for it?” At that, I laugh, “Haven’t you seen the things out there?” “Only heard from the TV and him,” he points at the man drowned in red. “Zombies and different blood, is all I know …” Ren opens a drawer filled with bandages from a first-aid kit. “Where were you, though?” He watches me with his ocean-blue eyes and an oval face, set against waves of sandy hair, still youthful. In four years, his face will be marred by stubble, the same beard I must shave daily. “A nightshift,” I say, hesitantly. Pow! More shots follow. With a fully bandaged shoulder, I peek through the window and squint my eyes against the sun. Blue-tinged creatures with skin burning almost magenta against the sun feast on our neighbor’s wife. They rip skin from flesh, muscles from bones. Ren follows, but I shove him away. “ Don’t .” The woman keeps screaming, and with every breath, her soul draws closer to heaven. “Stay here,” I say, sliding downstairs. The door’s still open, along with Mrs. Brown’s stomach. I shut the door, peek through the window again, and nearly gag. Fucking monsters! One of the creature’s heads snaps toward me, and I duck faster than my heart can skip a beat. Then the old reporter’s voice pounds in my ears, and I retch a handful of yellowish water. [The government deceived us all.] My hand glides over