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A Growing Strength

Novel By: JRA
Horror


Alone....awakened...free from it's isolation, but theres no one left to stop it...They were killed before their death sentence. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2

Submitted:Jan 8, 2012    Reads: 5    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


The room was very hot. It felt as though I had a very strong fever, when I woke up. I realized the horrible state of the room I was in. The chairs flung across the floor, with broken legs, and cracks on the seat. Plates, crumbled and destroyed scattered all over the floor. Ivy was growing on the walls, but in this room it wasn't coming from the ceiling. It was coming from the windows. From outside, where the danger lurked. It was very questionable. I blinked my eyes to clear the horrible burning I felt in them. I struggled to lift myself from the ground, but standing made me feel good. My legs felt like they had been sitting for quite some time, and that worried me. I was now determined to find the day I was living in, but my watch had broken before I had awoke. I walked outside the room, wiping the sweat from my forehead. My black, hard, shoes made a very loud sound as they walked across the wooden planks. Click, clack, click, clack. It reminded me of a slow tap-dance, almost. I had no recognition of where I was, wich also put a new question to mind. Was I in the same town I had been when I was rid of my conschuisness? That worried me more then how long I had been asleep. I walked, speeding to the next room to look out a window. It was day outside, could'nt of been more than a few hours from morning. Looking at all of the scenery, untouched, outside, I smiled. Had it only been a few minutes from when I had awoken, I could still see many of my dreams in my head. I had dreamt of the time I was still able to wander the world, and all of it's beauty. As a child, walking down the streets of a bright new day in the neighborhood. Throwing a ball to my friends, or my father. Or swinging in a nearby park. I remembered these things very fondly, but was used to not having any of them around. I looked away from the window, and up at the ceiling. Water dripped from the boards with cracks. I stood there, just watching it drop, such a simple thing it was, but failed it had not to please me. I heard a tapping on the wood, as if someone had walked down the hallway to the South of the building. I quickly turned my attention to the door, quietly walking over to see what had approached. I saw nothing. That scared me, it could either be a survivor, wich left me with two sides to worry about. One, it being a normal human wanting to find others, like me. Or two, it being a survivor with weaponry, fearless of anything, willing to shoot at anything. Or it could be another "peice of the puzzle" as Dr. Norman would've called it. Someone hurt or distorted by what lurked, or what lurked itself. Three fourths of my chances all lead to an undescribable injury, or what I feared the most, death. I pulled my gun from my pocket. Right as I began to cock, I noticed a lack of clips in my bag. "Damnit," I whispered to myself. "You took my bullets, too?" I threw the gun back in my bag, and pulled out my dagger. I was desperate to defend myself, so this would do, mainly because I lacked any other kind of firearm. The blade of the dagger stood in a brown pouch, incrested in gold, shaping itself to a circle with a line through the center. The blade was polished, without any blood previously on the top showing. That was what made me shiver about the dagger, without any blood on it I would be looked at as weak, and an easy target to an approaching enemy. Anything stronger then I, would make me the victim, but I would prove my skill to each that comes toward, hopefully.

I peared back out to the hallway, this time, something caught my eye. The footsteps stopped sounding, and a light brown book, wrapped in cloth was thrown to the ground. I looked out both directions of the hallway, and ran toward it. As soon as my hands gripped it, I ran back into the room with the window. The pages were yellow, telling me the book had to have been more then a few decades old. I flipped to the first page. It was hand-written in cursive, written with thin black pen. I read, "This isn't happening. This can't be happening, its gotten to a horrible state! Anything that could've gone wrong, did! And its all our fault, we let it escape, we let it grow, we let it take advantage of us all! Im going to fill in the pages of this journal as much as I can, and if the writing stops, you know my horrible fatality has struck. This unheavenly growth has covered, and spread most of our facilities, and im afraid if it reaches the town, the whole world could be in danger. Weve tried shooting at it, blowing it up, and chemicaly ridding of it, but it seems to be invinsible. The year is 1923, I need to establish that now, so that if I am to die, it will still be documented correctly by any one of the government still out there. If they even are, still out there. Its beginning to seep through the doors, now. I'll put down the book, and write when I get a chance. My free-moments are limited, but ill get the message out there if I have to die in the process." I closed the book, horribly confused. Today is November 4th, 1987, if im correct about waking up the same day I blacked out. What I found strange about the writing in this book was that I wasn't born into this world during the apocalypse. If the book is correct, it was 1923, years before the invasion even started. If the person writing this book is correct, then that means we could've been being invaded in a whole different part of the world where I was born. I need to analyze this further, but I know now if I can get this book to Dr. Norman, or any existing scientist still surviving, we can learn a lot more about this thing then we know now. But what now scares me over everything I have ever learned, is that I now know that its alive, and growing.





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