Camden snuggled his stale pillow. With his fairly slender nose, digging into the contents, of the flea ridden fabric. He inhaled the warm air of his apartment. Wondering why he felt so happy, and relaxed, hadn't he been exhausted yesterday? And didn't he usually wake up groggily, with heavy eyes?
His alarm clock had not sounded yet.
He must have somehow woken up early yet he savoured every moment he could before Seven O' Clock came and the sharp alarm forced him out of his bed. Piercing his ears, before he could slam a weak fist onto the small white device hence silencing it, as Camden faced another glum day ahead.
Yet time seemed to drag on and no alarm came, when the final bags of black had lifted from his eyes and he could no longer excuse himself to sleep, He slowly lifted the blanket off himself and got up.
He felt like he had a good lie in. He turned his clock and checked the time, Rather curious.
There was no time.
Confused he glanced back at the clock, There were no red digits where the figures of the hours and minutes usually were, It looked like the alarm clock had broken.
"Cheap piece of crap" Camden uttered binning the small thing. Massaging his bold head as he walked into his living room yet despite his slander at his broken alarm clock he remained in a fairly good mood. Even though the matter he was now several hours late for work was prominent in his mind, "No use in rushing now" he thought he'd only humiliate himself. Guess that his boss Terry would go as red as his hair when he told Camden off that morning for being late.
"Well it hasn't been the first time" Camden thought slowly filling his drooping mouth with soggy cornflakes dragging himself around lousily even though he felt wide awake It was a force of habitat on such mornings.
He causally went to flick on the TV, as he put on his uniform in great care seeing as he was in no rush Never the less, it would seem his weak grip had failed him again as he couldn't hear the usual reports from the morning news, He pressed the power button on his remote again. Harder this time.
Still the TV wouldn't switch on.
"Oh for fuck's..." Camden began, striding up to the small TV and clicking the power button on the damn thing itself, He turned away as the expected news would come.
Bewildered, Camden looked back at the TV It's black screen a worrying omen to him, He tried pressing the button again and still nothing came on.
Slightly worried now he ran over to his fridge and opened it, it didn't light up and he could already smell the milk souring.
"God forsaken power cut" He thought from the top of his head slamming the fridge door shut and he tugged on the last part of his postal uniform. Yet now that feeling was in Camden's gut again, he tried to digest with his soggy breakfast which wasn't staying down easily. His awareness to the things around him also seemed heighten, What was that bang? Did someone just scream from upstairs? No, they can't have.
Flinging his cap onto his head and sweeping a last look at his forever-more smiling parents, he swung open his apartment door with the cocky swag of a postman going to work.
His image faded the second the door opened, an implosion of dreaded noises met his ears as a middle aged woman ran directly past his door taking no notice of him. Camden could bet his eyes rolled after her with a comedic expression on his face.
The woman disspeared down a corner. As sounds seemed to organiate from everywhere and nowhere Bangs, thud's, scream's, shouts, clunks and worst of all... hissing.
Forgetting to lock his apartment door completely, Camden's legs moved forward on autopilot until he found himself on the stairwell to his apartment.
His Lily Green eyes swallowed everything.
People were rushing past him moving equipment with haste objects that were blurry to Camden's vision. Shouts of "USE THIS FOR THE BARRICADE!" and "THEIR ALMOST HERE!" as well as "THEY'VE BROKEN THROUGH! GO UP! GO UP! GO UP PEO... AAAHHHH!" Many cries like this ended as abruptly as they had started with a sickening choking noise that made Camden flinch and shrink into himself.
People seemed everywhere and yet nowhere in particular, their cries detached from him Because his eyes were locked onto the scene out of the window.
The city was burning, no matter how many disaster movies he had watched No matter how many dreadful sites his eyes had consumed, he was safe in the knowledge that they were fictional but seeing distant skyscrapers burning like chimney's, Seeing the unusual movement of the ants of people below him and the smears of crimson on the grey surfaces... was... was...
It stunned him to the very core. Not because it was so much different to what it was like in a movie It was exactly what it looked like from a movie. Which was why Camden was so shocked, since when did fictional movies happen in real life?
Ripping his eyes from the nearest burning flat in which Camden stood hypnotized, watching people flailing through the air it may have looked like a movie but the way people fell, like a tumbling stone, rather than the stylish grace in which actors seemed to glide on the big screen was something that he could safely say was different to a movie of any sort.
He had to tear away his eyes from the burning city of Delham, for years it had stood, dull and peacefully. Solid as a rock and unmoveable, to see it fall this fast with no warning what-so-ever of such catastrophic destruction was why Camden stood there as solid as statue, almost trying to retain the unmoveable quality in which his home city once had.
But he had too look down the stairway because that dreaded hissing could always make him move.
Thousands of deathly white round marbles looked up at him with no pupils, no Iris, no watery texture that Camden had so dominantly in his eyes. He couldn't even see his own reflection looking back at him in those eyes, those evil white eyes that matched the pale crumpled skin that this... this "horde" of people had. The blood that leaked from their eyes, ears and nose, seemed to fall in unnatural straight lines down their withered faces.
From here there blood looked a sickly, jet black colour, but Camden assured himself that it was a trick of the light. This horde of people were slowly stumbling up the staircase whatever sort of barricade people had tried to rise against these people it had failed miserably, they moved forward like a tycoon blowing away everything else in their path.
Camden's feet seemed to root themselves into the ground as this tycoon of "things" approached he didn't move, not even when the Asian Man grabbed his collar.
"SIR! DEAR GOD SIR! HELP ME! PLEASE H... HELP... ME... D...D...!"
The pressure the man inserted onto Camden was gone as quickly as it had came, alarmed by this Camden tore his eyes away from... from the "sick people". The people who he could only describe as "Zombies" yet he couldn't accept that one minute he was off to work and the next he was in the middle some sort of Zombie Movie. His head could not adjust to the situation every part of his body was numb, yet his head creaked downwards as he gazed down upon the Asian man.
Also seeing the Black hand prints sliding on his peachy blue uniform.
Camden backed away slowly his body on auto-pilot as the man began to shriek and hiss. Half of his jumper ripped to shreds and a massive bite mark on his torso, Camden could only watch as the man threw himself from the floor onto the rails of the stairs, whatever sort of noise he was making was between a scream, a choke and coughing.
Whatever it was Camden could only register it was loud, then again so was everything else around him. He could only stand there his ears ringing, his eyes wider than they had ever been before in his life. His eyebrows disappearing into his cap line as the man threw himself around violently jerking himself from one positions to the next, all while blood began to pump from his body.
It looked Black from where Camden stood.
With a last thud it was over. The man laid still for a few seconds, before his index finger twitched.
Camden was already sprinting down the hall. Storming back into his apartment, he slammed the door shut and his sweaty hands found his small table.
He wasn't going to ask that man if he was alright and then go up to help the man because when someone starts tossing themselves and then screaming in agony, added to the fact he is bleeding black blood and there is a horde of these things below you. You put two and two together and You know that man was not going to be saved, you could only save yourself.
Besides Camden had experienced it before, yesterday, the banging on the door, the coughing, someone had turned who he hadn't seen.
Looking at his reflection in the shiny surface of the table he saw his cap sat dislodged on his exposed scalp. His eyes black and not green because his pupils dilated to an enormous size, his chest heaving rapidly, his heartbeat in his still ringing ears.
And the black blood on his uniform.
Camden tried to take deep breathes but it was like trying to trying to digest too much in too short a space of time. What he saw from the windows, from the staircase, from the man, haunted his every thought. He weak knees gave in as he positioned himself carefully on the floor rocking back and forth, as the air in his apartment seemed deathly still despite the muffled destruction from outside.
"Okay Camden... chill out man. Chill out. That was nothing. You got this, you got this..."
His inner encouragement was cut short as an eerie creak behind him made his heart leap into his mouth, He didn't want to see anymore but he had to turn around.
The Asian man, had stumbled right into his apartment.
For the second time today. Camden had forgotten to lock the door.