Two Page Shorts, Nick Venom [best novels in english TXT] 📗

himself into bed.

Gwen closed the door and locked it. She barricaded the sliding door using the drawer in the room. She then headed back to her bed and tucked herself and the child in. She stared up at the ceiling and its cracking paint before slowly drifting off. Drifting off to the sight of her childhood.

 

 

***

 

  

Aaron woke up and shot out of bed. He looked around and noticed that the moans of the corpses sounded distant and quiet. He turned around, grabbing his hunting knife from under the pillow. He turned towards the door, hearing footsteps rattling outside. He crouched down, his eyes set on the door. With one arm, he grabbed the pistol before raising himself. He went towards the door, breaking down the barricades and peering through the peephole.

“What are you doing?” A drowsy Gwen asked, opening up the bedroom door. She stared at Aaron through the darkness, her eyes barely making out his outline.

“We’re leaving soon. The corpses made it inside.” He told her, glancing at her. He then focused on the peephole, staring at the darkness on the other side. However, he could feel something or somebody was staring back at him. Even so, the darkness hid them and their outline. The president could be standing on the other side and he wouldn’t know it.

He looked away from the door, quietly making his way back to his bed. With ease, he grabbed the sporter and his bag. He counted up his ammunition for both weapons, fifty-seven for the Sporter and five for the pistol. A total of sixty-two bullets to escape the apartment with.

He stuffed a full and half-empty magazine into the ammunition sling while loading the third filled magazine into his Sporter. Loaded with 22 rounds, he pointed it at the window. He looked down the sights for his target, a small black stain on the blanket he taped up. He rested his finger behind the trigger, not wanting to waste a bullet. 

“What are you doing?” Gwen exclaimed, taking a flashlight from the neighbor’s bag and flashing it on Aaron. The light impaired Aaron for a single moment.

“Making sure my aim hasn’t deteriorated.” He lowered the Sporter before holstering the pistol. He stuffed the hunting knife in his pocket. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah,”

“Good.” Aaron went to the window, peeking outside. He turned to Gwen, asking for the flashlight. He shined it on the window, making out a few corpses nearby. He then gave it back before smashing the window in.

“Why are you doing that!” Gwen shouted.

“There are zombies at the door. I can sense them. We’re leaving through here. Grab the child and let’s go.” He cleared their exit of glass shards before walking outside. He holstered the Sporter, taking out his pistol. He turned on the flashlight and shined it around him. His immediate surroundings were clear.

“We’re leaving.” He barked, leading Gwen and the child out of the apartment complex and back onto the street.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Gwen asked him, struggling to keep up with him. She held the child in her arms, tightly embracing her.

“There’s a supermarket near here. I saw it.”

“How did you see it?” Gwen asked. 

“What’s the child’s name?” Aaron asked, suddenly changing topics.

Gwen glared at him. Even through the darkness, Aaron could tell the look. He was used to it. “Fine, keep it to yourself.” He said, annoyed.

“Forget her name, we need food,” Gwen said, motioning towards the child. “She’ll start crying soon if we don’t feed her.” 

Aaron nodded. “Cover her mouth if you need to.” He stopped at the intersection and looked around. Even through the apocalypse, the street lights were still working. Now armed with the street lights and the moon, he could see corpses from a comfortable distance away. There were only a few corpses on the streets, barely noticing their presence. 

Ignoring the corpses, Aaron, Gwen, and the child sprinted down the street and approached the next intersection. Once at the second intersection, he peered over the side of Lost City’s bus station and looked down both sides of the road to the best of his abilities. The road had a couple of corpses roaming around, but not enough to pose a threat.

Across from them was the supermarket, their destination. Aaron used the corpses’ limited sight to dash across the street and reach the supermarket. Gwen was right behind him, out-of-breath after sprinting down a block suddenly. She slowed down, trying to catch her breath. The child in her arms looked around curiously, but couldn’t see much past the darkness. Her eyes were doing their best to adjust but it wasn’t enough.

While she caught her breath, Aaron inspected the exterior of the supermarket. Ignoring the buildings’ condition, all of the windows were boarded up with the words “Keep Away” printed on them. The door was barricaded with many empty aisles and vending machines, reinforcing its normal sliding doors.

Aaron shined his flashlight at the roof, noticing that it had its edges lined with military-duty sandbags. The same bags that slowed down bullets and protected many.

As Aaron shined the flashlight, a head popped into his vision. A man dressed in riot armor pointed his M4 at Aaron.“What do you want?” The man spat. He raised his M4 at the three and aimed down the sights. Two of his comrades pop their guns over the sandbags, pointing them at Aaron, Gwen, and the child. Aaron couldn’t see if they were dressed in the same riot armor that the first one had.

“We’re just looking for supplies. We aren’t here to disrupt you.” Aaron shouted. The leading man looked around and noticed the corpses limping towards them.

“We ain’t got no supplies.” One of the man’s comrades shouted.  His southern accent pierced the riot helmet intensely. 

“We need three days of food at least,” Gwen declared. The leading man looked at his comrades. Neither of them spoke, however, one of the man’s comrades brushed off the man and stepped into Aaron’s line of sight. The person took off the helmet, ignoring the leading man and the man with the Ak-47’s orders not to. 

“Aaron?” She asked. Aaron jerked his head back. The person turned out to be a woman with blonde hair. “You’re really alive,” 

“You know me?” Aaron asked, tilting his head.

The woman laughed. She looked down at Aaron. “We were together in Heaven Gold,” She said. Aaron opened his mouth, speechless.

“Little Emma?” He said. 

She nodded while chuckling. “You really remember me,” she said with a smile. “Open the doors!” She then ordered. “Let them in,” Aaron looked down at the main entrance and watched as two men stripped the barricades that barred them from entering the supermarket. The men forcefully opened the sliding doors, motioning for them to enter. 

“Welcome to Heaven and Hell,” one of the men said. He beckoned them inside, “the safehouse of the apocalypse.”

 

 

Hello All!

 

Thank you for reading the first of a trilogy of short stories. This trilogy will introduce the Chronicles crew and won’t act as a reboot to the Original Saga [Rising From The Grave, Journey, etc.]. Instead, this trilogy will be set a few months after the Original crew leaves Lost City.

Once this trilogy ends, there will be a Jayhawk Television continuation that follows the Chronicles crew’s story in the universe. Their story won’t end with the trilogy’s last installment.

As for crossovers between the Originals and the Chronicles crew, there will be some in the future. For the most part, I will be setting up the foundation of each crew, focusing on them, before developing a proper crossover.

Again, thank you for reading this short spew of information. Until next time, I bid you all a good day.

Survive Till The End: The Beginning of the Apocalypse

Loud rattles on the door awoke both siblings, Bryce and Ivy. Ivy, a tanned-skinned girl with purplish hair,  jumped out of her bed and dashed to the door, peering through the peephole. On the other side of the door was a familiar sight. A good friend of the siblings was standing outside. “Let me in,” The friend shouted in a whisper. “It’s me, Grant.” 

Ivy yanked the door handle open. Grant walked past her and towards Bryce’s bedroom. “Start packing. We need to leave now!” 

“Why, what’s happening?”

Grant burst into Bryce’s room, startling him.  A fit male with black messy hair and dark brown eyes looked up at Grant, jumping a few inches in the air before landing with a loud thwack.“What’s wrong?” He was fully clothed, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt.

“There’s…” Grant stared at Bryce. “... Why are you treating jeans and a tee shirt as pajamas. I can half understand the tee-shirt, but not the jeans.”

Bryce looked down at his outfit, shrugging his shoulders. “I was tired last night. I was working at the restaurant until 4 a.m., so I returned home tired. I didn’t have the energy to change outfits. Anyways, why are you here? It’s-” He glanced over at his alarm clock, perched on top of an old bedside table. “-only 8 in the morning.

“Zombies!” He declared, pointing out of the window facing the main road of Chicago. 

Bryce walked up to the window, peering outside. He couldn’t see much aside from red clumps and endless people roaming around. “What’s happening outside?” He turned towards Grant. “You said... zombies?”

“Start packing up your stuff. We need to leave now!” Grant exclaimed before racing to the front door where Ivy idled stood. She peered down the hallway hearing a groan. It resembled an injured human. “Ivy, lock the door!”

Ivy looked at him strangely, tilting her head. “Why?” She questioned him.

“Close the door!” He shouted, yelling in her face.

Shocked, she listened to his order. She closed the door, locking the multiple locks on the door including the deadbolt. “Why are we doing this?”

“Yeah, you haven’t told us what’s happening,” Bryce asked, coming out of his room. “You even shouted at my sister, so explain everything.”

“Zombies have invaded the hotel. They killed my parents and are on their way here!” He shouted, grabbing Bryce’s collar. “Grab all of the essentials and let’s escape through the fire escape.”

Brant and Ivy listened to him, believing their best friend’s story. Why wouldn’t they? He seemed very insistent on his story’s truth. 

Grant grabbed a duffle bag from the siblings' guest room, hidden in the closet, and began loading water bottles and canned food---taking a can opener along for the journey. 

Meanwhile, Bryce dressed himself in fresh clothes before grabbing his bag and loading it with the essentials; small blankets, bottled waters, canned food, and a book titled Gone by Michael Grant. He joined Grant and Ivy, who packed similar items. 

However, Ivy managed to sneak her unicorn plushie into her bag, instead of a lighter. She disregarded the important tool, deciding to take her toy with her.  

Fortunately, Bryce noticed the lighter and stuffed it into his pocket. He darted to the kitchen to snatch a handy kitchen knife, stuffing it in his pocket. He took a step towards Grant and Ivy, but a sudden thought entered his mind. His father owned a safe that he was embedded in the wall, hovering over their bed. “I just thought of something, give me one second,” Bryce sprinted into his parents’ room and went to the safe. He yanked on the safe’s handle, but it didn’t budge.