RudyGasparrini

I got used to death before, after my grandmother, my uncle Peter, and a few of my parents' high school friends. I thought I'd be able to get used to it out here too, but I guess things are different when you're the one causing the death and when you have no one to help you get over it.

I wish I could do things right. For myself, for the people around me, the people I love. It never works out that way though. I do stupid shit and it has consequences, I know it does but I keep doing it. It's like my body will do anything to survive but my mind wants the exact opposite. 

This is not a story about love. It is not a story about heartbreak but my life revolves around that. After what I did to him it's all it can revolve around. I deserve death. He deserved to take me with him, but he didn't. Unfortunately I'm still here.



---A spin-off to the After Death series. This story focuses on a new group of survivors, including an apocalypse-orphaned 17 year old boy from Ohio named Valentine Evans, as they struggle to make a life for themselves. 

Warning: This story contains adult content and is intended only for mature audiences

FEAR WHAt I'LL BECOME AFtER DEAtH

Maverick grabbed my wrist and pulled me in to whisper in my ear when we got to the bottom. "While we're down here, don't say a word."


"Why?" I whispered back, quickly wiping away my tears so he hopefully didn't notice."


"Just don't. Follow me." He let go of my arm and pulled out a knife from his back pocket. He walked slowly, trying not to make too much noise trudging in the shallow water.


We had been walking for a few miles. It had become dark outside and we no longer had the slight shine of sunlight from the city's drains. Maverick pulled a box of matches from his backpack, he lit one and handed it to me. He lit another and kept it for himself. It wasn't much and it didn't really make much of a difference but it was as good as we were gonna get.


Andie had fallen asleep in Maverick's backpack. His peaceful sleeping face was the only thing keeping me calm this entire trip, especially when the water below us began to rise to our knees and the sound of the dead echoed throughout the passageway.


Maverick looked afraid, he stopped in his tracks, the match he held burned his fingers and he threw it to the ground before lighting another. "This way." He turned around and searched the wall next to us until he found a door. I don't think he had any idea where it went but he grabbed the handle and tried to open it.


"It's stuck," he grunted, pushing harder, the sound of the dead got louder. I moved to the other side of him to look at the path ahead and through the faint glow of the match I saw a group of the dead, they were different from the others, their skin was wet and melted. They were coming right at us and I froze in terror waiting for Maverick to finally get the door open.


Chapter 11 (Sewer Rats)