Mistletoe Memories by Smith Shelby

Mistletoe Memories by Smith Shelby

Author:Smith, Shelby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-16T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 10: "Dawn of Unity"

Brett

The first light of dawn broke over Cedarwood Falls, casting a pallid glow on the streets that had, just hours ago, echoed with the shrieks of the undead and the cries of the living. I stood by the window of Emily's childhood home, where Lily and I had sought refuge. It was supposed to be a temporary shelter, where we were supposed to find Emily, but the night had stretched long and treacherous, full of horrors that still clung to my skin like a cold sweat. What made things even worse was that Emily wasn’t home. When we arrived fresh footprints led away, but we didn’t have time to follow.

Peering out, I could see the remnants of last night's carnage. The quaint, snow-lined streets of our town were now marred with destruction. Shop windows were shattered, the Wintervale Café's cheerful sign hung askew, and the festive decorations that once symbolized celebration now seemed like mocking remnants of a world that may never return. Cars abandoned mid-escape, their doors ajar, stood as silent testaments to the panic that had gripped our town.

I turned to find Lily, her face etched with the same mix of relief and apprehension that I felt. We had survived, yes, but at what cost? And for how long? As the sun climbed higher, we found the creatures would retreat to wherever they hid during daylight, but they would return. I was sure of it.

"We should check on the others," Lily suggested, her voice a mere whisper, as if afraid to disturb the deceptive calm.

Nodding, we stepped outside, the crisp morning air biting at our cheeks. The silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to last night's chaos. We made our way cautiously through the streets, alert for any signs of those... things.

As we neared the town center, we stumbled upon a small group of survivors. Their faces were drawn, eyes wide with the unspeakable things they'd witnessed. Among them was Mr. Jacobs, the old librarian, his usual composed demeanor replaced by a haunted look.

"Mr. Jacobs, are you alright?" I asked, approaching him slowly.

He glanced up, his eyes focusing with effort. "Brett, Lily," he breathed out. "It was like nothing I've ever seen. They came from everywhere... We barely made it here."

One by one, they shared their stories. Mrs. Henderson, from the bakery, recounted how she hid in her pantry while the creatures tore through her shop. Young Tommy, barely sixteen, spoke in a trembling voice about the loss of his parents.

As I listened, a weight settled in my chest. These were my people, the ones I'd grown up with, shared life's milestones with. And now, we were united by a terror that seemed too monstrous to be real.

"We need to be prepared for tonight," I finally said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "We need supplies, weapons, anything that can help us survive another night."

They nodded, some with determination, others with a resignation that spoke of the deep scars this nightmare had already inflicted.



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