The body hit the decrepit structure so hard, it almost destroyed it entirely. Shaking it's foundation so hard it sent shockwaves through several other neighbouring house's walls.
Rat opened his eyes and jumped up in a frantic daze, dust greeting his face, making him cough.
"Ok, settle down. No sudden movements."
His breathing was fast. He has to calm down.
The boy ripped a part of his shirt and tied it to his face hurriedly.
He takes a deep breath, and peeks over the covers he made for his temporary shelter.
Whatever it was that crashed into the building, he doesn't want anything to do with it.
A series of loud thrashings pierced his ears, but that time it didn't make contact with 'his' building.
It must've moved to one of the neighbouring houses.
The boy took whatever junk he could carry with him in a rush.
His 'backpack: A piece of cloth tied in a knot to use for storage.
Inside, a flashlight, his last remaining set of AAA batteries, and a dirty notebook.
No food left. This is bad.
He started to make his way out. Carefully. Painfully slow, as if he were the predator sneaking on the unsuspecting prey. He had practice.
He could see what was happening. He was right, whatever it was took it's violent business to the house across the almost nonexistent road.
It was in better shape, but pieces of hard plaster, wood and steel fell down as the walls cracked open in big chunks.
Through one such crack he managed to get a glimpse of what was causing the ruckus.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He whispered under his breath, almost inaudible.
A loud screeching, terrorizing and shrill slit the air open like the throat of a dying beast.
The chaos drew attention. He heard it before but never so loud. Never so close.
He had no intention of finding out the source.
The boy's eyes opened so wide it looked like his lids are going to split and burst out of his face entirely.
The screeching came from the direction he planned on continuing through. The road was leading to an orchard a few miles away. Surrounding it were a few rural houses that from a distance looked relatively intact.
He can't go back. He must move forward. Do his best not to get tracked.
Well, his original plan isn't going to happen.
That house across the street is about ten seconds away from falling apart altogether.
No other way,
He has to make a run for it.
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The Rippling Chronicles
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The Rippling Chronicles
Author:
LuchaOr

ISSUE #5
Plan B
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The Rippling Chronicles
Fantasy
Dystopia
Adventure
Last updated: May 28, 2021
Total word count: 1,850
Total reading time: 9 Minutes
Writer:
fantasy
adventure
action
drama
friendship
horror
dark
fiction
life
death
angst
darkfantasy
depression
blood
dystopia
fighting
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loss
journey
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