When There's No More Room in Hell

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My Auspicious Iguana

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Olivia crashed through the forest, panting as all hell was breaking loose behind her. Sounds of gunshots and yelling were close behind. Vines whipped her face and branches tangled in her hair as she ran for her life, stumbling in the darkness. The screams of the dying and the roars of the dead assaulted her ears as she flew like a bird through the trees. She needed to find shelter. She needed to find water. She needed to find--all thought was cut off as she crashed to the ground, tripping over some unseen root. A piercing pain shot up her leg and thigh and she cried out. Something was definitely broken. A toe, maybe, or her foot. She cradled her aching leg, rocking in agony as tears streamed down her face. By now she was far from the carnage, and the sounds and screams had faded. Because of that, she could clearly hear the spine chilling growl behind her. She turned her head slowly to face a disgusting monster that was once human. His eyes were white like a blind man's. His clothes were tattered, and his bloody intestines were exposed. From 10 yards away, Olivia could smell his disgusting stench of rot. The creature opened his mouth, exposing his dirty yellow teeth, and moaned. He began shambling towards her and though he moved slowly, he was coming close quickly.
 
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And then Kevin pulled the trigger, unleashing the bullet upon it's rotten prey. He looked over at the scrawny girl laying on the ground, clutching her leg. She looked to be in her teens, a few years younger than him. Her auburn hair was covered in mud while her hazel eyes looked shell-shocked.
"You okay, kid?" Kevin grumbled at her. "Looks like you might have hurt your leg there, eh?"
 
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The scene that was unleashing before Jamie shocked him, to say the least. First, there was a disgusting creature, one that definitely came out of hell: if hell existed. Then it was shot, by a young man. He was completely hidden in a bush. Why was this happening to him? He didn't want to see such atrocious things!
 
Olivia stared in shock at the young man standing before her. It looked like he had said something, but the combination of pain, confusion, and fear had rendered her temporarily deaf. She had no idea what to do--should she run? Should she drop her weapons? She feared he would shoot her--he looked like the type of person who would shoot a 17 year old girl. His beard was tangled and matted with blood, and his long hair was filled with branches. In short, he looked like a madman. She held up her hands and stammered, "I-I don't want any trouble. Please don't hurt me."
 
Kevin walked over to her and held out his hand. "Don't worry, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you. If I wanted to, I wouldn't have shot the zombie in the first place."
He glanced at a nearby bush and added, "I would hurry up and grab my hand, kid. We got ourselves a visitor."
 
Jamie thought that after the atrocious creature was killed, the two humans would leave. But he was wrong, for the one that looked like a mad man grabbed the teenager girl's hand. They were coming to the bushes where he hid. Thinking fast, he thought about what he should do. He was so scared, so frightened that someone would steal his life. I don't want to die, he repeatedly thought in his head. He grabbed something out of his pocket, a sharp pocket knife his father gave him 4 years back, when he was 13.
"Don't come closer!" He screamed, and felt like crying. Jamie had been known as a weak child all his life, and it was like his eye color: something he couldn't change.
 
Olivia jumped in fear at the shrill, loud sound of a voice nearby. It didn't sound like a monster, but it certainly didn't sound friendly. She was still disoriented, and didn't notice the short boy standing right in front of her in a bush, brandishing a small pocket knife in her general direction. When she was able to connect the voice to him, she jumped a bit again--this was all an incredible shock to her and she had no clue what was going on. When she had gotten her wits about her, she noticed the boy was on the brink of tears. "Don't worry," she said, "I'm not going to hurt you. Really, I won't." She held up her hands, nearly losing her balance in the process. She winced at the sharp pain that raced up her leg again as she put weight on it. "What's your name, huh? It's okay, don't cry. It's okay." She looked at the older man next to him. "I don't think he'd hurt you either. What's your name?"
 
The sound of gunshots and screaming faded behind her. Maya walked quickly but cautiously through the forest, eyeing where she stepped carefully, not wanting to make too much noise. She held a battered baseball bat in her right hand. It was streaked with dried blood.

A distant yell startled her. She stopped walking and tried to figure out where it had come from.

Looking around, she saw three figures a fair distance away. They seemed to be in some kind of stand-off. A boy was pointing something, probably a knife, towards a slender teenage girl and a man that seemed to be her companion. The girl had her hands up.

Maya inched closer, careful not to make any noise, and half-hid behind a tree.

We'll see how this plays out, she thought to herself.
 
Gale jumped when he heard the gunshot and stood up slowly, looking around. It had been pretty loud, and somewhere behind him, it seemed. He pushed his curly ponytail over his shoulder and picked up his pistols, tucking them both into the back of his pants and crept forward, stepping lightly. Eventually he found where the noise had come from, three people in something of a stand-off. He smirked and tilted his head a little, taking in the scene.
Gale quickly stepped forward and held his hands up, putting on his best charming smile. "Hey, hey, hey guys! Let's not attack each other, right? We're all human here, no need for more conflict!" He spoke loudly and stepped in between the two groups, keeping his hands up and looking back and forth between them.
 
"I don't believe you!" Jamie screamed, his throat hoarse, and the metal of the pocket knife shined, as it was held higher and higher. He gripped onto the knife, and was prepared by any means to attack. He had always wanted to try the pocket knife.
 
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