✧ 33 ✧
Ilya let out a heavy sigh before crawling towards the wall next to the door.
He carried his broken wrist close to his chest, wincing from the pressuring pain that intensified after the adrenaline rush ended.
He rested his back on the shaking wall and just sat there, waiting.
It was as if he knew that there was no way out of this situation.
In just seconds, those monsters would rip him apart. In just a few seconds, he would no longer be a living human. In just a few more seconds, he'd be dead. Or worse; undead.
The monstrous shrieks and restless slams on the metal door became louder. The metal plank bent further away from the wall. Skinless arms and skeletal fingers peeked through the slight gap of the only exit of this room.
Seconds separated Ilya from meeting his gruesome death. Just a few more seconds.
And for that, Ilya stopped crying. A sense of relief washed over him.
It would be nice to finally leave this hostile town, even in death.
Ilya suddenly snorted and started laughing.
An unusual time and place to laugh. He ended it with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling.
Black mold and spider webs gathered in the corners.
His eyes traveled down to the walls. Cracks from dried-up old paint decorated them.
Then he gazed at the center of the room.
Blood was splattered, and gooey brain matter oozed out of that woman's head.
What a disgusting place to die in.
Ilya wondered, if he died here, would anyone find him? Would somebody give John, his stepdad, the bad news? Would John even miss him? A thousand questions ran through his mind, distracting him from the last bangs on the door.
Ilya raised a trembling hand to his head. If those shriekers didn't kill him, then this horrible headache would.
Bang!
The door broke, slamming down with a startling clang.
Ilya flinched for the hundredth time since he arrived here. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Honestly, he was surprised his heart was still beating from all the heart-stopping horrors he had encountered.
Then came a new dreadful kind of horror.
Ten to twenty shriekers fell inside, piling one over the other, climbing their way into the room.
Ilya pulled his legs to his torso, hiding his face. The excessive screaming drilled into his head, amplifying the headache. A chilly sensation cruised through his veins, numbing his muscles and taking away what was left of his strength.
Ilya gave up on fighting. As he told Beast many times, What's the point?
The shriekers entered the room.
Ilya braced himself for the first bite of his flesh... but it never happened.
Ilya heard the sounds of munching and biting, but he didn't feel any pain. His body was never touched. Still intact in one piece.
Slowly and carefully, Ilya opened his eyes and peeked at the monsters. A severed arm was between one's lips. Another piece of meat squished between a different shrieker's teeth. Then a bunch of shriekers fought over the prize part of the body—the head of the talker lady.
When a shrieker got their hands on the dead woman's head, they slammed it on the wall over and over again until it split open. The screams got louder as they fought viciously to lick the brain pieces off the ground.
Ilya was horrified. How could zombies eat other zombies? Maybe the talkers' brains weren't completely rotten. After all, they did have enough fresh brain cells to keep them talking and thinking, but not enough to make them human again.
While they fought, Ilya found the courage to sneak out through the door. With wobbly legs and poor eyesight from feeling dizzy, leaning against the walls for support, he made it to the hallways.
Thankfully, no one followed him.
Ilya pulled up his flashlight and examined the new corridors. He began limping towards an illuminated path, hoping it was sunlight guiding him out.
Ilya thought he would be happy to be given a third, maybe even fourth, chance of surviving. However, he didn't feel it. He had already accepted his fate to die here, to end his suffering. It was torture to keep giving him chances to escape and then taking them away.
Fate was playing a cruel prank on him... and Ilya was so sick of it.
He turned around a corner and, through his light, he caught a glimpse of a person. Ilya quickly stepped back and switched off his flashlight.
The old Ilya would have been glad to find a person, but the new Ilya knew better. That wasn't a human being. It had to be one of the undead.
Ilya gulped and stayed quiet, only to hear moans, deep throaty slow moans.
He recognized that sound. It wasn't a talker, nor a shrieker. It had to be a moaner, the slower weaker type of the zombies.
Ilya furrowed his eyebrows. A crazy idea ran through his mind. Without thinking it through, he walked towards the moaner, a suicidal move. He sped up his weary steps, eyes focused on that undead obstacle on his way.
The moaner slowly turned. His mouth was open wide. His eyes were milky white. He stretched his arms out to give Ilya a deadly hug.
Ilya pushed the zombie to the wall and walked past it, as simple as that.
The zombie toppled down, and before he got up, Ilya was already turning around another corner.
Phew. Ilya breathed out. That was close.
His sudden bravery scared him. He acted like he had nothing to lose, not even his life. It was a refreshing look at life itself, a dangerous one nonetheless.
While walking, the flashlight slipped from Ilya's fingers. He crumpled to the floor suddenly when an uncontrollable jitter shook his legs. Lifting his hand, he watched it severely shaking.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself. "Not now."
It was a sign.
As if his luck wasn't already running out, he heard those dreadful screams again. Ilya snapped his head around and gulped. It's them. They must have finished their meal already and started looking for him.
Ilya thought about continuing his journey, but when he raised his flashlight, he was greeted by not one, not two, but three moaners. No way he'd be able to push them away, not with his worsening condition.
There was an open door to a room in the corridor between him and the moaners. If he walked a little faster, he could make it, locking himself in there and dying in peace from a diabetic coma.
Without wasting another second, Ilya went through with his plan. He reached the door with only inches separating him from the decaying hands of the moaners. He went inside the room and closed the door behind him.
When he looked for the lock, he couldn't find it.
Ilya pulled his hair and gritted his teeth. In his fuzzy condition, he forgot that the rooms had no locks. So he stood there hoping that the moaners had no brain or motor skills to help them turn the doorknob.
The moaning voices came closer. The three zombies were just outside the door, roaming back and forth.
Just when Ilya was about to sigh in relief, his eyes opened wide. The knob started to turn.
Ilya quickly grabbed the doorknob to stop them from coming in. They were weak, but Ilya was getting weaker. It didn't help that he had sweaty hands.
The doorknob eventually twisted far enough to push the door open. Three moaners against one diabetic boy. The odds were against him.
Still, Ilya pushed the door with his back, hoping they would get tired soon and forget about him. It was an exhausting job, yet he pulled through.
Until the door slightly opened.
Ilya pushed it back shut. Then the moaners opened it again, and Ilya kept pushing it back, over and over.
Ilya started panting. The floor, the beds, and the furniture were spinning in his head. His strength was sapped with every labored breath. Pushing and pushing until his back felt sore.
His eyes watered from feeling extremely tired all the time. They welled up with tears from never catching a break. They drowned and then leaked salty tears along his pale cheeks from going from one hell into another.
And. Never. Catching. One. Goddamn. Break!
However, Ilya didn't crumble. His newest strength was either insanity or stupidity. He kept hoping that those brainless zombies would eventually leave him alone before the shriekers could find him.
Yes. Anything but the death in the hands of those violent shriekers.
That hope was crushed when his sugar-level monitor went off.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!