I woke up about three miles out toward the industrial estate. The bus was lying awkwardly on its side; and I could see no sign of the driver or other passengers. A pain near my right shoulder made my head buzz and I could feel bruises all over my body. Making progress towards the front meant climbing over the seats. Each step put my feet on the windows, which in turn were pressed against the tarmac. I was shaky and unsure of my footing, more so when I encountered the shattered glass of the windscreen which proved slippery under foot.
Finally staggering through the front window, I stood in the fading headlights for a moment and took stock. Looking at my shoulder I found what looked more like a bite mark, and less like the kind of graze you would expect from a crash like this. The sight of my own open flesh turned my stomach and I retched up everything I’d eat at the diner, finally stumbling backwards and I slumped to the floor and sat for a moment by the road side.
From the time on my watch that last meal had been four hours earlier, which left me wondering why the bus hadn’t been found yet. My head swam as I called out into the night for help, but no one answered.
Looking back at the wreck something set me on edge, from this angle I could see a dark liquid a little ahead of the crash. I just knew it would be blood, and a lot of it. I got closer and could smell the copper tang in the cold night air, there were flecks of flesh and the gristly stub of a bone nearby, but more worrying to me I could follow a trail of the blood with my eyes off into the darkness where the remains had been dragged away.
The drag marks headed toward the industrial park, so I turned and started to run for the outskirts of town. Clutching at my wound which started to bleed as soon as I picked up speed, I realized I was going to have trouble making it back safely. I began to feel the cold, and even when the fear subsided and I felt numb inside I still couldn’t stop imagining how one of the people on the bus had died like that.
Even now as I get closer to the first few buildings I feel oddly distant still. There is something deep within me pushing back my civil manners, gnawing away at my identity, and changing my appetites. I feel clammy all over, my back aches; my legs are stiffening making movement slow and clumsy. I can’t keep up the pressure on the bite wound, but it isn’t bleeding anymore so I don’t feel there’s much point trying. I feel a hunger drawing me towards the town’s folk. This appetite is so commanding that I extend my arms forward away from my body, better to embrace the first person I can reach. My stomach grumbles and I let out a groan of sympathy to match it, as I shamble on. I am so terribly hungry for flesh.
---532 Words
Maybe this should be 500 words a day?
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