Caged Animal

We found our way to a home which appeared to be abandoned. That always created less problems for us, my sensitive ears wouldn't be pierced by screaming and gunshots. It amazed me how inconsiderate the living was, I never truly realized it until I wasn't alive.

"You know what would be amazing! Fresh clothes, do you think they have any here?" Cailyn's shrill voice entered my ears.

"Cailyn, you barely have enough clothes on as it is. I don't see how fresh clothes could make you any more appealing." I snapped back. Not entirely sure where this snappiness suddenly came from, I blame that spawn of a devil.

Cailyn huffed and flipped me off, rummaging around the rooms with Riley trailing behind her. I just made a face at her as she walked away.

Cody was staring at me with an amused look on his face, "What has gotten into you lately Maya?"

I groaned, "I'm not sure. I blame Riley, he is absolutely infuriating. To think I have to stay in such a close proximity for a night makes me sick!"

Cody laughed, wrapping an arm around me, "Are you sure you just don't.... like him?" he whispered closely into my ear.

My eyes widened and I glared at him with disbelief, "L-like him? I can barely tolerate him!" I shouted a little bit louder than necessary.

Clicking his tongue Cody wandered away from me. Sitting by myself, I frowned. "Maybe I could use some fresh clothes?"

Muttering to myself, I followed to where Cailyn and Riley went. I entered a room and almost gagged, "Can you guys please find some other time, like.. never to make-out?"

Riley and Cailyn pulled away, Cailyn smirked at me, "You only wish this was you." She said before returning to their session.

"I really don't... but thank you for the unpleasant thought." I shot her a glare before continuing my conquest to find some new clothes.

Whoever lived here's style was rather poor. I picked out a very casual outfit to change into and did exactly that.

Out of nowhere, I heard talking. Not like Cody or Cailyn, or even big mouthed Riley. Strangers.

Peeking out of the door, I spotted them. They were taking ahold of my companions. Never had I personally attacked a person, I didn't find myself that intimidating and I didn't believe anyone else would either.

But, I had to do something. My friends were groaning with bags over their heads and clawing at the strangers. There were three of them inside at least, who knew how many were outside. They had guns ready in their hands, and each of them seemed to be starting a new sunglass trend.

Taking a deep breath, I burst out the door, charging towards them.

Oh, how scared they were.

I wish.

My charging startled them at first as I clambered out of the bathroom, but the closer I got the less shocked they were. They stared at me blankly, and to top it off, I tripped.

Of course I would fall! How could I possibly have any luck left at this point. The undead are not, exactly, shall I say, mobile creatures. Sure, we move a lot, almost never stopping. However! It seems our motor skills are incredibly, lacking.

If that did not make these goons laugh, nothing would. They stood laughing, some of them prodding me with their guns as I lashed out them.

"We definitely need this one, for amusement." I heard a deep voice chuckle, approaching me and covering my head with a dark bag.

Now, let's not get rash here, I shouldn't blame anyone – Oh! Heck with it, this whole situation is Riley's fault. We are all tied up with bags over our heads and I cannot help but wonder, where I would be right now if some imbecile did not bite me!

My darker side couldn't help but hope, and pray, they remove the bag over my head so I can watch Riley be tortured. Idiot.

When the bag was torn from my head I was immediately blinded by the bright light hanging above us. Rude. These people needed to learn what hospitality was.

I noticed that we were in a pen of some sort, in an old building. We weren't the only undead either, there were cages lined up next to ours; each filled with unfortunate zombies.

The men approached us with chains, each latched onto our arms and legs as we struggled to bite them. Of course, when I heard a scream I could only assume my dear, sweet, Cody had ripped one of these men's arms off.

I was right, of course. No one screams like that unless they have faced the wrath of Cody's teeth. The tough man was practically weeping. Only for a short while however, his comrades ended his life with two bullets in the brain. The men left us chained up, with a meal on the ground.

Shame. I was hoping we could all get along much better.