Maiken looked out of the corner of his eyes to see a glimpse of crimson staining the wall. The smell of rotting flesh attacked his nose as he brought the pistol in his hands up. "G-Gabe, where are you?"
He walked forward in the dark hallway. The dimly lit lights above him swayed in the invisible breeze as he walked. Maiken stumbled over his own feet, thinking that he saw one of them from behind the moving shadows. He ventured forward once again after seeing that it was merely another one of his mind games.
After a minute's worth of treading cautiously, he came to a halt in front of a large wooden door. "Gabe?" he called out again, desperately hoping the other would reply. However, having heard no response, Maiken nudged the door open with the gun tightly wrapped around his small right hand.
He took a few steps into the room as the door behind him came to a slow shut.
Though, Maiken would never have had enough time to prepare himself at the sight that lay before him.
Gabe, laid out in the middle of the room, a group of Walkers crowding around him as they tore the skin off his bones. Splotches of blood were littered around the room as the snap of bones and shredding of human tissue resounded throughout the small area.
Alas, that was not the worst part. No, the worse were his friend's eyes. They gazed at Maiken; wide-open but unseeing. Those dead orbs spoke of the agony and horror the fourteen-year-old have been subjected to. For a second - maybe not even - Gabe's face flashed into the familiar shape of his deceased older brother.
When Maiken finally regained some sort of sense, he knew he must have screamed. Seeing as the Walkers' heads snapped in his direction like a whip, he spun on his heel and quickly tried to dart out of the room as a mouse residing inside a snake cage would.
Somewhere along the line, he felt the gun slip from his fingers. Fear struck his core as he could feel icy cold hands grabbing at his shoulders, arms, and legs just as he could barely touch the knob of the door. Maiken shrieked with twin trails of tears running down his pale face. His eyes clamped shut in preparation to the oncoming pain of teeth digging into his own skin.
But then, he opened his eyes. Maiken could only gasp for breath while staring up at the ceiling above him with blurry eyes. A few beads of sweat slid down his cheek. "O-only a dream," he rasped with a raw throat, "just a dream."
His thirteen-year-old mind refused to believe anything else.