Two shades of blood ( 2 )

Continuation ~~~~~

Lesley grunted in pain, his arm a red holt volt of pain covered in flesh. Some people would have succumbed to the pain and passed out, some would frantically fight for escape. Pain makes humans act in strange ways, bringing out the scared animal or the frail flower of their willpower.

But Lesley was neither of the two it seemed.

He glared at Mel and for a moment, his eyes glowed a mystical green.

"Ahh!" He shouted as he grabbed Mel by the neck and with strength that defied human abilities, he threw him at the front door, where the undead teen, flew threw the wood like a train and smacked on the corridor wall.

But he didn't stay down, in an instant he was back on his feet and his eyes grew greyer, the blue lake covered by a dense fog. Lesley was also up on his feet, and with in a second he moved into the bedroom and shut the door.

Now, of course someone could say he just trapped himself. The room had no windows or another door. He was in darkness, Mel could break in any moment and his arm was a hot sauce of pain. What was he thinking?

Lesley pulled the sheet off, the bed and if one could have light in that dreadfully grim room, they'd see a very particular sight. Six knives, their hilts up, were imbedded in the mattress. There three lined vertically on both sides of the bed, with an arms length separating them.

Lesley had pushed them in last week, a precaution incase of zombies getting in the apartment whilst Mel was out. He was sorry to say he'd never imagined he'd use them against the blonde zombie. His regret grew as he used one hand to take the longest and sharpest knife.

Just as he turned to the door, the wood blew open, like a pregnant animal whose womb was forced open. Mel moved into the room his eyes, now truly grey looked at Lesley with pure, passionate hunger as if he was a starving beast.

Lesley raised the knife and glared at the blonde zombie. They were less than two feet away from each other. Their eyes locked for a moment, as if waiting for the perfect moment.

Who would make the first move?

Who would strike first?

Who would draw blood?

In the next instant, the answer was decided.

Lesley's arm flashed and he gave a mortal slash, drawing blood galore.

But... it wasn't Mel's.

The knife, bathed in the crimson liquid of Lesley's veins, fell to the floor. Lesley's hands started to shake as his body went into shock. And why wouldn't it?

After all, Lesley had just cut his neck with a wound so profound, he was bleeding like a broken tap. Blood flew and sank into the carpet, his freckles disappeared from the stage as his very life drained out of him.

A bitter smile was on his face as he felt himself quivering, getting cold and his neck filling like a hand had proed it open.

Lesley knew he could not beat the zombie in a fight, Mel was just to strong and he didn't have a proper weapon. The knives would not have guaranteed victory because he could only use one hand. It was hopeless and he knew that.

But he would not cry, not beg, not scream for help as he was killed. Lesley was too willful to let himself die by the hands of a zombie. He wouldn't let the monsters get the satisfaction of wiping out his family.

So he took his own life.

Of course there was the chance ged come back as a zombie but he could only hope someone would kill him before he killed a lot of people. Not once did he think of Liv or Lich. He wouldn't rely on something he didn't understand to save him and he also didn't know how.

So just like that, his kness gave up and he started to fall but he was caught before his whole body touched the ground. The red head saw he was in arms of the zombie and he wanted to tisk his tongue but it was going number in his mouth. The last thing that he saw was Mel looking at his dying face with a... smile.

It wasn't his now humane smile but his old zombie smile. A mere lifting of the lips and exposing of the teeth. It was creepy and Lesley wanted to shiver but he was left with less than ten seconds, his heart already started beating slow due to lack of blood.

Whatever, that was Lesley's last thought before he was engulfed by the darkness and his heart stopped.

So Lesley Woodsman died at the age of eighteen.

Mel, who was slathered and drenched in blood, his and that of Lesley, raised his left hand to touch the red head's cheek. But his hand shook and it grabbed his own cheek instead, where it proceeded to dig into the flesh, and tore a large chunk of his face off.

The blonde corpse had looked horrid before but now, covered in blood and with an exposed set of teeth and gums, as well as a tiny part of his jaw... he looked like the nightmare of nightmares. Then, Mel opened his mouth wide and bit into Lesley's shoulder.

For a moment , Lesley's eyes flashed a bright green but the corpse did not notice. Instead he began to feast on the flesh of the human teen.

Unknown to both of them, a mysterious silhouette had been standing in the darkness this whole time. And like the presence of a shadow is undetected, this silhouette stood right behind Mel and he did not notice. Not it's presence, it's dangerous aura and not even it's red eyes.