Chapter 18 - The War (Part 1)

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Part 1 of 2. I'll update with Part 2 when I can.

Fun fact: Mr. M's last words were "Fucking squirrels." You're welcome.

I'll be finishing up this story soon. I'll let you guys how many more chapters are left when I can. I'm pretty sure I'll write a sequel. Let me know what you guys think.

More importantly, please vote and comment <3

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The sound of bones rubbing against the cold stone filled my ears as these creatures crawled out of their tombs. Their clothes clung tightly against the foundations of their bodies as if they were still shaped to how they had once been. Fabric fell off as they made their ways out, hitting the stone floor with a hard thud. I watched in complete, sheer, cold terror as these creatures started to stand as if they were human once more. My breath was caught in my lungs and was refusing to leave my lungs, but once it did my adrenaline kicked in and my body went into overdrive.

These things could barely stand on their feet without stumbling, so it gave me time to panic and try to find a way out. I threw things around looking for the book desperately, throwing things mainly in their direction to keep them off until I found it. I turned my head at one point when a shadow seemed like it was close to me, but they were still struggling around their tombs. Bones upon bones moved, and while the skeletons were still pieced together it looked like a pile of slithering bones was on the floor before me. One had stood up completely now, its clothing off and all of its different parts exposed. It hissed and I ran towards the door, knocking desperately for one of my friends to open the door, but nothing answered back. I tried to look out the window of the mausoleum but it was completely white outside as if a snow storm had started.

“You bitch!” I screamed out. “Stop this!”

I threw things to keep the things back, even the expensive paintings that we had to carry down from the attic. They were destroyed now.

I found the book on the floor next to the table in the middle of the room. I dove down and placed my hand over it, only to be met with bare bone clutching it. I shifted my eyes up to the hollow skull that stared back at me angrily. I breathed heavily, but tore my hand and the book away from it. I let out a loud, throaty groaning scream as it ripped a layer of skin off my hand. I ran towards the door again and started screaming for Roxas.

The skeletons started to crawl and limp their ways towards me. I stood against the door with the book clutched against my chest. I had no way of destroying it now, not while I was stuck in here. I had to get out and burn it. I couldn’t. I was dead in a matter of minutes.

The door slowly started to open and I pushed it open to jump out and slam it behind me. Scar looked down at me with a red, wind burned face. Snow blew around everywhere. “Where did this come from?” I pointed up the stairs and he squinted up to it.

“It’s the snow on the ground being blown around. I think its Catherine, right?” He asked. He was catching on quickly.

I nodded and held up the book that was now drenched my blood. “I have the book.” His eyes grew wide at the sight of my hand. “Where are the others?”

He shook his hand. “They probably had to find coverage. It’s really bad up there, Lights.”

The door started moving as the skeletons started to bang out it desperately. “What the fuck is that?!” Scar yelled out, grabbing my arm and moving back towards the stairs.

“Just run!” I started pushing him up the stairs as the door began to open. “GO!”

We ran into the storm which tore through me as if small little razors flew through the sky. I just ran as fast as I can without turning back once until I started to make out the gravestones in the graveyard. I looked around and tried to see what was around me, but I couldn’t figure it out. Scar was gone out of sight. It was getting harder and harder to walk now, and I found my body was giving out on me. I opened my eyes and saw Catherine’s grave somewhat ahead of me. I knew where I was!

This House Is Not a Home (Scomiche) (Troyler)Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora