User blog:Ireithien/The Walking Jed - Prologue

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The Walking Jed

Prologue

February 15th, 2019. Doomsday.

Beep, beep, beep.

Ire jerked awake as his alarm clock sang the song of its people straight into his ear.

6:30 A.M.

Ire groggily crawled out of his warm, oh-so-sweet bed. Shrugging off the blankets, he slammed his hand on the beeping clock, producing glorious silence. He strode off to the shower.

CHAPTER BREAK

7:00 A.M.

Somehow, Ire could still get away with half-hour showers, even when in his freshman year of college. He had to be at class by 8. Gulping down breakfast, he loaded his books into his backpack and walked briskly out the door, ready to start the day.

7:40 A.M.

Ire strode down the front stair, stopping in the driveway to look at his house from afar. It had been a gift from his wealthy parents. They had picked it due to its relative proximity to the school, allowing quick trips to and fro class. Ire was quite appreciative of this detail, but the house wasn’t the most polished. The front lawn was unkempt and the garden always looked… off, despite his best efforts. He couldn’t put his finger on where he had gone wrong.

Plenty of time for musing on the condition of my perfectly acceptable house later, thought Ire disdainfully.

He was going to be late to class if he didn’t hurry.

CHAPTER BREAK

7:55 A.M.

Ire noticed something was amiss as soon as he arrived at the school. College students typically drove recklessly, to an extent, and thus mishaps like dents and the occasional fender-bender were common. But the cars here were unnaturally damaged, like a bomb had exploded in the middle of the school parking lot. Broken headlights, spilt oil, smashed in and (sometimes) forced-open trunks… Ire pulled up close to one of the cars to examine the damage. Blood was spattered on the passenger seat and the steering wheel. ''Bloody nose? Cut finger?''

He refused to acknowledge any other alternatives. The solution had to be simple, and, he was quite certain, completely innocent, carrying no suspicious implications at all. Relaxing a little, he released his tensed muscles and continued towards the school. But all the cars were damaged….

In the end, Ire decided he had better just continue to class, and ask his fellow students about their experiences and why all of their cars seemed to be damaged. Walking up to the front door, he was even more disturbed to find another splatter of blood on the brickwork, besides a cracked and still limply hanging open door. Ire was definitely perturbed now. He slowly, ever so cautiously, crept into the hallway. Abandoned. Empty. Eerily quiet. “Uh… hello? Anyone… here?”

Mystified, Ire continued down the hallway. Several of the doors had been bashed and dented, some hanging open. Some had blood stains.

By this point Ire had reached the staircase at the end of the hall. These would take him to the second floor, which was where his classroom was. Just as he stepped on the first stair, Ire heard a bone-chilling scream. It sounded oddly like his history professor. Running as fast as he could up the stairs, around the bend, past the landing, and up more stairs, he dashed into the hallway. What he saw made his blood run cold.

His history professor, a short, fat man with balding ginger hair, was lying on the ground, groaning. His face was twisted and mutilated, blackened around the lips. His teeth were covered in grime and looked as if they had never been properly cared for in his life. The poor man’s eyes were now swollen and bloodshot orbs sunken into the formerly jolly, now sickeningly gray folds of his face. The man began crawling towards Ire, moaning and groaning, teeth gnashing every inch of the way.

Ire backed away slowly.

“Mr. Edwards?”

The man paused for a second, as if recognizing his name. Ire took hope at this, looking at him closely. “Mr. Edwards?” repeated Ire, hoping to gain some ground on this creature.

But the professor shrugged off his trance-like state and continued to slowly advance toward Ire.

Ire did the only natural thing he could do at this point. He ran.

He ran and ran, down the stairs, into the first floor hallway. He heard the professor let out a horrible, twisted scream. Then the sound of cold, bare feet flapping against stairs reached Ire’s ears. The man had stood up and was now pursuing him faster than ever. Ire continued to run, out the doorway, past the wrecked cars. Ire now understood the horrible damage, the blood.

Fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the car door, jumped inside, and shut the door, just as he saw the… creature… emerging from the school. It momentarily looked weakened as it looked up at the sun. Then it continued running. Ire thrust the key into the ignition. The engine made an old, creaking groaning sound, and failed to start.

Ire did not have time for this. He tried the engine again. Didn’t start. The professor was coming towards him rapidly.

Tried the engine again. Didn’t start.

The professor was almost upon him…

This time, the engine rumbled to life, just as the hideous creature was reaching the car. Ire pulled out, turned, and sped out of the parking lot as fast as he possibly could.