#I guess ocean fishing has NOT switched to the odd hour

[elizabethrobertajones]

#FISHERNATION #ACEPRIDE #NOTIMEFORBITCHESWHENTHERESFISHES

[winsmoke]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

Renjun quickly grows better at speaking in English to talk dirty to you in class.

⊹ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.2k ⊹ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 bored female student y/n x Renjun ⊹ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 college au (online), fluff, strangers to lovers au ⊹ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 swearing, suggestive  ⊹ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 🦷 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 This was my first NCT fanfiction. I just reread this and holy shit it’s horrible. I’m so embarrassed. ⊹ 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 disclaimer | masterlist

   The online english summer course was quite possibly one of Renjun’s worst ideas. This is the conclusion Renjun came to after the first 15 minutes of class. He was good at understanding English but when it came to speaking it? As if. And obviously, the course just happened to stress verbal communication more than grammar and spelling. 

   Presentations, skits, singing, and essentially everything orally possible. Plus homework after a two hour class…there was no way.

   “I’m going to put everyone into breakout rooms,” Professor Johnson announced. “First introduce yourselves, in english, and then practice reading out loud the vocab list I sent you. And with your partner, prepare a sentence using the new vocabulary. You will need to learn these words by tomorrow so don’t slack off.”

　Although everyone’s video picture was small, it was clear the whole class had become nauseated by Professor Johnson’s words. 

   When the breakout room appeared on his computer screen, there was no one there. Must be an odd number of students in the class, Renjun realized. Frustrated, he opened his emails and clicked on the quizlet link the professor sent to the class.

   “Fuck, might as well get some of this shit started,” Renjun muttered, selecting the ‘flashcards’ button, not realizing that you had finally entered the breakout room. 

   “Learn 30 vocab words by tomorrow? This man trippin’… okay I know ocean… sea? Yeah… river, I’ve heard that before… lake… gu-gulf?... bay… wait isn’t that like or girlfriend?... octopus… when the hell is this gonna be relevant in my life??” Renjun slammed the mouse down on his desk in annoyance. 

   You couldn’t control the laugh that spilled from your lips.

   “Oh shit!” Renjun glanced frantically around his room, expectedly waiting for an alien or a ghost to pop his ass. 

   “Bro chill, I’m in the breakout room,” you said cooly with a raised eyebrow. Damn this boy must be innocent as fuck. 

   Realizing his mistake, Renjun blushed darkly and minimized Chrome to look at you. 

   “Uh sorry...” he mumbled, licking his lips nervously. 

   “You’re good.”

　You slowly analyze his face while he scrutinized yours. Both of you had achingly cute faces, contrasting your more depraved thoughts and attributes. While Renjun’s eyes fell on your plump lips, your eyes landed on Renjun’s dyed hair.

   “Interesting hair,” you commented after making your final judgement of Renjun’s inferiority. 

   “What’s wrong with being a blonde?” Renjun asked, feeling offended.

   “Nothing,” you shrugged. You didn’t like talking much, explanations were too tiring. 

   “Well, I like your hair,” Renjun offered hopefully, fishing for a compliment in return.

　You cracked your wrists in irritation. So desperate, you thought.

   “Should we go over the flash cards? I’m y/n, what’s your name.” You wanted to make this process as painless as possible. 

   “Huang Renjun. It’s nice to meet you,” he said and shyly smiled.

　You bit your lip to contain your own. You had to admit that he was kind of adorable. Pushing the urge to smile back aside, you quickly opened the quizlet and scanned through.

   “This is so easy: ocean, sea, river, lake gulf, bay, creek, octopus, whale, jellyfish, swimming suit, to swim, to be wet–” you read off rapidly.

   “How are you so good?” Renjun interrupted, amazed and slightly insecure. He brought his face close to his laptop’s camera making you a little uneasy. You shrugged again.

   “Does it matter?” your tone marginally betraying you.

   “I guess not… ” Renjun sighed, he wasn’t getting anywhere with you. “Um, should we make a sentence?” 

   You gave a singular nod.

   “How about I swim in the ocean?” Renjun suggested.

   “That’s boring,” you whined, “Ugh, this summer is going to bore me into my grave.”

   “Well since your so smart why don’t you think of an riviting sentence?” Renjun huffed, getting fed up with you. You glowered at him.

   He wants a riveting sentence? Fuck it.

   “How about you drowned in the ocean?” you offer sharply. “Or how about, the octopus made the girl wet? Is that entertaining enough for you?”

   Suddenly the breakout room switched back to the main session.

   “Alright everyone share your sentences with the class!” Professor Johnson instructed happily. 

   “I’ll start,” Renjun sneers. You were ready to reach into your laptop and slap this boy. 

   “In the ocean, the girl drowned because the octopus put one of the tentacles in her mouth,” he said with a deadpan expression.

　You almost screamed. The balls this guy has.

   “Wow! What a long sentence! And you used a lot of vocabulary we haven’t covered yet!” the teacher praised. Renjun smiled widely and when the teacher asked for another volunteer he winked into the camera. 

   By the end of the class, the two had exchanged so many subtle sexual innuendos you both didn’t know if you were horny because of the dirty words or the desire to strangle one another. Either way, you two carried out the rest of their day pissed. Renjun was so hellbent on coming up with more arousing sentences the next class that he studied the vocabulary for the following day. 

   Both of you couldn’t figure out how to get yourselves off when you fell into bed that night.

   The next day, the two of you could not take their eyes off one another but you weren’t partnered together. The next day you weren’t partnered together again. And again. This only encouraged you two to make even dirtier sentences to say once the breakout rooms returned to the main session. Miraculously, no one caught wind of what you were insinuating, not even the professor. 

   By the end of the week, Renjun finally appeared on your breakout room screen. You had been told to come up with a skit to perform on Monday. 

   Strangely the script you came up with was rather civilized. And since you both were determined to out smart one another, you had memorized it by the third run through. But that didn’t matter, you two had to see each other.

   “I think you need more practice,” Renjun advised innocently. You scoffed.

   “Clearly it’s you who needs more time.”

   “Well since we both need to rehearse, how about we meet up?” Renjun proposed.

   “We’re in a whole pandemic right now,” you try to reason.

　Renjun couldn’t help himself but watch your lips. They were too plump.

   “I’m clean if you are,” Renjun said, licking his lips.

   “Where would we even meet?” you asked, racking your brains. You were too far gone now. 

   “I think a car is a big enough space to rehearse,” Renjun said, biting his lip in anticipation.

   “Tomorrow?” you asked, almost moaning.

   “Tonight,” Renjun demanded. “Send me an addy, I’ll be there at 8.”

[gumnut-logic]

Not So Alone (repost)

This is a shameless repost because I haven’t written a thing today. So I poked around in my archive and found some fluff. I chose Alan fluff cos that is what I’ve read a bit of today :D I think this may have been one of the first times I wrote Alan’s POV. I know I remember being a touch terrified :D

Apologies to those who have already read it, I’ll try to write some new stuff tomorrow ::hugs:: My brain has just been mush today :(

-o-o-o-

Title: Not So Alone Author: Gumnut 21 Jun 2019 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS Rating: Teen Summary: Alone time is sometimes better shared. Word count: 1767 Spoilers & warnings: None. Timeline: Standalone Author’s note: This is for @ak47stylegirl​ who wrote me the first part of this little fic, Alone Time, which can be found on her profile on Ao3. She wrote Virgil, so I stepped out of my comfort zone a little and wrote her some Alan to keep her Virgil company :D I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-   

Alan was bored.

It wasn’t often that he found himself with a lack of things to do. Life was generally busy with Thunderbird maintenance, rescues and backup duties.

Of course, he could always kill some zombies, but he was feeling restless. Gordon was off the island with Grandma so that didn’t help. Scott was buried in paperwork and John was still hiding on Five. Virgil had disappeared.

Wandering out onto the balcony, Alan eyed the pool a moment before throwing the idea out. Without Gordon it wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun.

Maybe he could go for a walk. Scott had been nagging him to get into a more regular exercise routine and, hey, he hadn’t seen the other side of the island for a while.

Darting up to his rooms, he threw on some loose clothes, decent shoes and a hat. A quick note to John to say where he was going and he was out the back door and crunching gravel up the side of the mountain.

While he had no objection to the great outdoors, Alan had no particular preference for sun, surf or bush walking. Not that he didn’t love a splash in the ocean with his brother, or even a jog around the island with Scott, it was just that many of his interests lay in the confines of the virtual world.

Or space.

Part of him didn’t want to admit he was like Johnny, but he was in many ways, but where John adored seclusion, Alan loved people. Basically, Alan was happy doing pretty much anything as long as it was with someone, preferably someone he loved.

So, he would really be lying if he said he took his route at random. It wasn’t a conscious decision, more just what he knew was going to happen regardless.

Virgil had some favourite places on the island to sit and just be. Alan didn’t quite get it any more than he got John’s love of solitude, but he knew his brother liked it and he stored the information for when it was needed.

Today Alan wanted company, so he used the information he had at hand.

Clambering around on the rocky island was not for the faint-hearted. There was no doubt that he was getting a good workout just by going for a simple walk. His first stop was a small cliff beyond Thunderbird Two’s runway. It was Virgil’s favourite, just on the other side of the mountain. He could often be found here just staring out into the ocean thinking who knew what. The scene had been painted, scribbled and, in one case, mosaicked onto a table. This was definitely Virgil’s favourite place.

He wasn’t there.

But Alan still had his list.

Two more Virgil spots proved empty and Alan had managed to work up quite a sweat. He was beginning to wonder why he was even bothering when he caught sight of a figure almost completely hidden in a grove of palm trees.

Virgil sat on a rock, his sketchpad on his lap, completely absorbed in his art. He was up a cliff overlooking a good chunk of the island, the twin peak at an angle even Alan could appreciate.

Alan eyed the climb and with a deep breath began the trek to reach his brother. He kept quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb him. That would be a good way to get his head ripped off. But if he approached from just the right angle, he should be able to see what Virgil was actually drawing.

It took actual rock climbing in a couple of places, but Alan eventually found himself situated behind his brother on top of the cliff, and as expected the view was breathtaking.

It was late afternoon and the entire side of the island was lit up by the sun. Gulls were wheeling in the air above the forested slopes, catching rising air. Far below, raw Pacific collided with the rocky shore in places and wrangled with reefs in others.

Virgil had certainly found a spot.

Quietly Alan made his way closer to his brother. Virgil drew on, showing no sign of knowing Alan was there. The cliff was a slope that had Alan descending towards his brother. Virgil was facing away towards the scenery, slightly hunched as he drew. Because of that slope, Alan was actually able to see his brother’s hand, this time his right, sketching pencil lines on the paper.

For a moment Alan was content to simply watch, but if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t come all this way just to spy on his brother.

“You do know it is rude to stare.”

Virgil’s voice was always soft yet possessed a strength that could be startling. Alan stiffened, annoyed at being caught so easily.

“What? Do you honestly think all that rock clambering would go unnoticed?”

“Dunno.”

His brother had yet to look up at him, simply continuing to sketch as he spoke. You gonna come and sit down?” Virgil held up a hand. “Just be very quiet, I don’t want you to disturb them.”

Alan frowned. “Who?”

But that hand didn’t answer, just beckoned him over.

Alan did what he was told and found himself sitting on that rock beside his older brother.

Virgil was scratching lines furiously onto the page, but the subject wasn’t what he expected. All that beautiful scenery and Virgil was drawing a haphazard pile of sticks?

Whispered. “They’re sea eagles. I’ve never been so close.”

Alan’s eyes darted from the sketchpad to a slither of rock a stone’s throw away from the edge of the cliff. The pinnacle stood alone and defied gravity almost to the point of disbelief. On its very top sat a huge nest. From this angle he could see the two chicks waiting for their parents to return.

Breathed out quiet. “Cool.”

Virgil was sketching madly and under his practised hand, one of the chicks slowly came to life. Simple line instinctively placed, shaded and shaped. It was a little mesmerising.

Alan, of course, had watched Virgil draw before. Amongst all the other things. His brother was usually fiddling with something. He had to have something in his hands, whether it was a pencil or paintbrush, piano or Thunderbird, Virgil tended to always have something playing between his fingers.

When Alan was little there had been many a Kansas winter night snuggled up by the fire, curled up beside his brother watching him draw. Sometimes he would dare him to draw outrageous things like Pedro the Peanut-Killing Pickle. There had been odd stories and scribbled down comics. Alan had even tried his hand under a little encouragement from his brother, but he didn’t have the enthusiasm that Virgil had for the art.

Besides, Alan was quite happy to just sit and watch. Rare quiet moments shared with his artistic brother.

They had been getting rarer and rarer.

“Can I sit with you, Virg?”

A brown eye with an arched eyebrow peered at him. “You’re already sitting.” The curve of a smile. “But sure. Just be quiet and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Respectfully whispered. “Okay.”

So, they sat for an unknown length of time. Virgil drew the second chick, and as one of the parent birds landed with the evening meal, its strong wings, talons and beak appeared on the page. Alan watched as the pencil lines grew darker, surer. Virgil switched pencils and they grew darker still, the birds emerging out of the page into three dimensions.

Down below the two chicks guzzled food from their parent.

A loud, awkward screech from above and another eagle was circling overhead, likely the other parent.

In the corner of the page, the bird quickly appeared, wings spread wide, soaring.

The quiet was amazing. Alan wasn’t one to sit still for any length of time, so perhaps he was missing the obvious, but the sound of Virgil’s pencil, the tease of the breeze and the call of the eagle above had only to compete with the waves far below and the rustle of the scrappy forest.

And a pair of squawking, complaining eagle babies.

Gordon would probably have loved this. His fish brother loved the sea, but he loved all the creatures contained in it even more. Despite this preference for water breathers, if you shoved a puppy or a panda in front of him, the man melted into a gooey puddle. Eagle babies would definitely be on the goo list.

“This is nice, Allie.”

“What?”

“Bit like old times, you sitting and watching me draw.”

Alan shrugged. “I’ve always liked to watch you draw. Guess we haven’t had as much time lately.”

The pencil paused. “Yeah.” His brother turned to look at him. “Well, it is good to see you out here. Nice to have your company.” A gentle smile.

“Anytime, bro. Kinda nice out here anyway.”

That smile grew a little before softening. “Well, unfortunately we have to head back now.”

“What?”

“I’ve got to pick up Gordon and Grandma.”

Alan checked his watch. Where the hell had the time gone? He’d been out here…three hours! “Wow, didn’t expect it to be so late.”

Virgil didn’t comment, just smiled a little more as he packed up his sketchbook and pencils.

Alan stood up and stared out across the ocean. A flicker on the surface of the water and he caught sight of a pod of dolphins frolicking in the swell. He stared.

“It’s amazing what you can see if you stop and look.” His brother’s soft voice so close to him made him jump.

“Virg, personal space.”

His brother snorted and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t think such a thing exists on this island.” That smile again. “Probably why John hides on Five.”

Alan grinned. “You’ve got a point.” And despite his earlier protest, he dropped his head against Virgil’s shoulder and for just a few more moments, they both tracked the dolphins as the cavorted past the Island.

“Can we do this again?”

“Sure.” Virgil slung his pack over his shoulder.

“Great.”

Silence fell, and they stood there a moment longer until Virgil squeezed a little and let go. “C’mon, sprout, time to clamber down the mountain.”

Virgil took the first few steps and Alan followed, throwing one last glance back at the nest now full of the entire family of sea eagles. A sharp beaked head turned in his direction and glared at him.

Alan couldn’t help but smile at the bird before he hurried after his brother.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[samuelcrobinsononlinearchive]

Zombie somthing

Grandad passed painlessly, sad, cold, but peacefully at last. He was wearing his blue thick jumper from m&s, odd socks. Left foot sporting polka dots, right foot styling plain red. I've never seen my brother cry before; even as a child he would have rather of gotten even than cry. Thomas had spent the last two weeks by grandads side, appeasing his every request however odd; like ice cream with a flake and pulling up floor boards for his hidden treasures. That he wished to be passed down to the family; only to find dust and pipes of course.

He lived in a two bed semi detached house on knole road, I like to think it has a post modern look about the place because well, it's old school. Rustic fire place, green carpet throughout, dated sofas with a hint of modern television, iPad and karaoke machine. Thomas has been clearing out all the junk the past three days, the house is a council owned building and they ever so kindly told us we had a week to move everything out. The door bright red with a strong feeling of nostalgia was half open when I arrived, walking in I called for

Thomas but nothing replied. This is strange because Thomas has the hearing of a bat, if you don't know bats are blind and can only see with their heightened sense of hearing. Boxes of China crashed as I walked through what used to be the living room, I felt a strange lump in my throat telling me that nothing was going to be okay. Grandad was our last living relative in England, this meant that me and Thomas were all alone in this little but large island. Oceans away from our mother and farther, Sarah and Brian.

When grandad first passed away I was so angry, my flesh was steaming I could feel a sense of imaginative strength raging from my body as if at any minute I was going to tare the room apart. Desk legs flying into Windows and my office manager Debra laughing because she "always knew I was a crazy". I could hear something up stairs, a strange sort of clanking. The kind you hear at night when all the lights are out, when you can't sleep

Because all you can think about is that noise. The one you blame on the four year old

Fridge. I decided to go investigate, with every step a felt an ever looming sense of doubt that maybe I was just in the wrong house. All of grandads furniture was missing from the

Living room. The stairs that were once covered in photo frames now bare walls, only yellow wall paper that clashed with the green dated carpet. Finally I heard Thomas shout! A great yell of pain. “Thomas are you okay”

“Yeah sorry sis, I'm in the loft” he half shouted At me

“I'll be down in a minute, just want to get this tree”

The tree fell down. Not down the loft hatch but down through the roof.

“Oh Thomas, that pissy girl at the council is not going to be happy about this!”

“We can just put a rug over it”

“Yeah. A rug on the ceiling makes perfect sense”

Thomas had his moments of questionable sanity like when we were little; he was eight I was ten, he didn't speak for an entire month. He never told us why, or how it was even possible. I always assumed it was a bet with one of his friends, although he never really had many friends. Only one that I could remember, George. They were the same person, they laughed at the same things, ate the same things, liked the same games. Never apart from each other as if they had their own little world.

I brought  dinner Thomas!

Dinner was two falafel salads and two ice cold diet cokes, Thomas is notoriously known for being a calorie counter. He never ate pizza unless it was low fat cheese and wheat free, his favourite foods were rice and salads. I on the other hand liked large full fat pizzas and those cheese and pineapple squares you get at low budget wedding party's. The Air seemed still as we both avoided the conversation that was grandad.  I asked him how his new job was going at the garden centre warehouse. He said it was fine. The Conversation was almost as dry as the air, Thomas got up to turn on the light. Typical English weather meant that by five o’clock the sun was already retiring from the sky.

“I don't believe this”

What?

“They've only gone and shut off the power to his house”

Really? You spoke to the power company already?

“Nope!”

Well someone must have, I bet it was that pissy bitch from the council!

“I don't think she's actually out to get you Mia”

Prove it.

Maybe it's just the bulb?

Thomas moved around using every appliance or electrical switch he could find. Flicking up and down, on to off. Turns out it wasn't the bulb.

Maybe we should just head home, we can't do much in the dark.

“I guess let me just grab my bag”

Thomas hates leaving things half done, he would

Normally work till late at grandads.

Just as we stood up in total darkness something odd happened. A sudden wave of police sirens bleared through the streets. You know at night when you're trying to sleep and you hear those blue light sounds in the distance. You never really pay much attention because it's normal in the city. This wasn't like that, it was the sound of tens maybe hundreds of car sirens. No screaming like you would imagine, no sight of the lights just the noise. Above at least three helicopters circling around, making the house shake. This sudden disruption puts a little bit of fear even maybe a lot in my mind.

What is that?

“I have no idea Mia, it's dark”

It was only then that I realised everything was dark, not just this room, nit just this house but the entire street. Knole road was plunged into darkness.

What do we do Tom?

“Let's just go upstairs in case it's not safe out”

Thomas has always been a total wimp.

No Tom I'm going outside.

Grandad’s door sticks, you have to hold onto the little latch and pull hard in the right place or it will appear locked. As I rushed outside Tom following I looked down the hill towards London, not one person in the street, no cars or any of grandad’s neighbours.

As we started to walk down the hill towards the sirens that grew louder I noticed how the moon was bright. We take it for granted, it's so beautiful and big. It felt closer than ever before, somewhat comforting. Just as we got to the end of the road and London was out of sight the sky light up with flames. An explosion. A big one. It made this strange whipping sound like the earth had been struck by God. Flames filled the sky.

Thomas screamed at me, dragging me away towards grandads, we broke into a run all the way up hill.

“What was that?”

“How can that happen Mia?”

“Was that central London?”

“What do we do?”

I don't know Tom! We got to the gate just as the biggest blast of wind, dust, air came at us. So powerful it moved cars inches forward, the street was filled with noise now. Car sirens, house alarms, breaking windows. Still no people.  

“the Loft”

Thomas ran through the door and started to climb the stairs, it's dark. So dark, I had my feel my way up the stairs in such a panic I slid down two steps with a thud. I swear even in that moment of fear I heard Thomas laugh. Thomas starting to climb the ladder, looking around I could barely breath. So many strange thoughts running through my head, why is this happening? What is that smell? Where is everyone? Stupid answers to my own questions ran around in circles in my head. I gripped onto the ladder as I climbed up I could see a light of some kind. Through the landing into grandad’s room coming from the window, it was like a phone light, maybe a camera. I pulled the ladder up with a large amount of effort and no skill, it was hit in the loft. I could feel sweat dripping down my head and hitting my arms, I'm so out of shape. I used to run everyday after work, head phones in, tacky running clothes the whole lot. Now most days after work I just sit around waiting for something to happen, I guess in some way now it has.

Do you have a light?  

“Nope, I think my phones over by the rug.”

“Be careful though, it's covering the hole”

Thomas it's dead, literally nothing.  

“Sorry! I was listening to maroon five”  

“where's your phone?”

It's in the car, doesn't grandad have his fishing stuff up here?  

“In the boxes by the wall”

Found it.

I don't know if  it was the events of yesterday or the fact we was stuffed into a cluttered hot loft but my watch told me that me and Thomas had slept until eleven the next morning. My body ached from the lack of boarded space and my skin felt dry. I could taste well what Thomas described as history, I called it dust. We decided that the best thing to do was to keep calm and quite, the plan was to open the hatch, grab some food and water from the kitchen, sneak back up to the loft for a plan of action.  

Ready Thomas?  

“Sure, should we you know?”

He pointed to the pile of gold clubs.

I guess if you think that's a good idea?

“It couldn't hurt right?”

We let the hatch drop to an open, it hit the wall and echoed throughout grandad’s half empty half boxed up house.  

Thomas! It's dark.  

"That’s not possible, is it?"

The blast may have caused clouds to form, or maybe it’s raining

"Don’t you think sleeping in the loft we would hear if it was raining?"

We climbed down the ladder and walked towards grandad’s bedroom window, his room hadn't been touched since he died of heart disease last Monday. The room was stuffy and the air felt almost electric, like a storm was passing above our heads. Grandad’s bed still dressed in the same floral patterns, four old pillows stacked up in the middle where he used to sleep. The same yellow wall design from the stairs, dark brown bulky wardrobes in the corner of the room. Why does everyone over forty have those? The floor covered in his belongings that fell from the blast, or maybe the helicopters, the window had dusty netting draped along it. The street looks dark, we stood looking for what felt like an hour. My heart pounding in my chest with every beat anticipating something, anything. I can’t take this anymore Thomas, let's just go down stairs and get something to eat.  

“No wait Mia, there over there”  

There was that light again, something was flickering in the garden of the house opposite. I had no idea what it was, who it was. Should I be scared or was this all just in our heads, I mean sure we haven’t seen anyone in a while but really they could just have been doing the same as us. It could be a candle, someone’s keeping their house light up with candles. Probably those fancy smelling ones, the elderly love those candles right?

Thomas finally bulked up enough courage to follow me out the door, grandad’s camping light in hand we treaded slowly as if the ground below us could collapse at any second. Edging slowing across the road looking in every direction for someone, something. I couldn’t help but think about how funny this must all look to the people inside that house, two strangers tip toes across the road as if they were scared of the dark. The truth is I think Thomas is a little, it’s understandable the deafening silence of the street and frightening darkness of it all. The house looked the same as every house on knole road, except this one had an expensive looking car in the drive. A jaguar maybe, what an earth was a car like that doing in this town. Maybe he works in the city?  

As I knocked on the recently painted blue door it fell open, I wasn’t exactly knocking hard. After all the smallest bang echoed down the road, probably all the way to London. Should we go in?

“No! It might be trap by the terrorists”

Don’t be stupid Thomas, what would terrorists be doing here setting small traps for two locals?

“Well aliens then, trying to collect us to breed robot humans!”

Any other theories you would like to throw out there?

“Okay well it’s just plain rude to walk in on someone’s house isn’t it?”

I guess, if they’re home.  

We both looked back at the half opened door, I realised then that we’ve been here for what felt like ten minutes and not one sound came from that house. I decided to be bold and push the door wide open and call out, Hello! Anyone home? We’ve been over the road since yesterday, I was just wondering if you knew what was going on? Hello! Anyone? Please!

Tears slowly crawled down my face, my heart rate finally slowed down.

“Mia. Nobody is home”  

Just then the largest dog known to man came running down the stairs, his bark so loud it cut through me. Around his neck a star shaped light that flashed when he moved, it was for night time walking I suppose. The dog barked and barked as if to tell us to leave, its teeth widely on show as a warning. Thomas began to attempt to calm the dog, walking cautiously towards it. Each step he would praise the dog, calling it laisse as if by naming the dog it would be less vicious. “Calm down baby” “We won’t hurt you” “you’re just hungry aren’t you?” The dog stopped barking, its tail went down and it began to whine. Thomas grabbed his collar but the dog didn’t seem to be phased by him, the dog was focusing on something else. Something behind me. “He’s called Toby”  

The dog ran towards me, leaping in the air and pushing me to the floor. He ran off down the road towards London his barking growing louder and more intense every time. “Are you okay?” “That was crazy!”  

I think so.

As I leant up and looked towards the road where the dog had been staring, nothing. what did he see? Am I going crazy? This is why I like cats. I couldn’t see much Thomas had the camping light tight in his hands, I could still hear the dogs bark echoing from down the darkened road. He sounded like he had stopped running, focusing his bark on what he had seen behind me. Maybe his owner? Maybe his owner was so scared of us they ran away! That's logical right? Whatever it was I'm just glad it's gone. The dog let out a horrendously twisted cry, it went on for longer than I thought possible. Thomas and I knew exactly what it meant. He grabbed me off of the floor and we slammed the stranger’s door behind us. The glass pain in the door shook, “was that too loud?” He winced at me. In that moment I could truly see fear in Thomas, his eyes so dilated and bold. His hair sweaty and pushed back, lips pursed together as if he was forcing himself not to scream. Looking at him made me want to cry, my body felt like I was sinking into the ground. My heart started to race again, the never ending thumping against my chest, my eyes so strained from the lack of light made them sting.  

I grabbed the suit case, it was lighter than expected. This must hold some clues as to what’s going on or where the people from this house were going, we walked through the living room towards the kitchen. It was a modern house with lots of gadgets that are now rendered useless without power, the kitchen has a working fridge although it continuously beeped to remind humans that it’s back up won’t last forever. We grabbed some cheese, bread and bottled water. Thomas searched through the draws and found more batteries, a torch and some birthday candles.    

“Do we risk going over the road again?”

I don’t know, let’s just check upstairs out and eat some food.

We walked back through the extravagate living room, up the wooden stairs and into the bathroom. I figured it would have the best lock in the house. The morning has turned into the afternoon and still the sky looked the same through the frosted windows. Thomas went through the bathroom cabinet as I broke off chunks of cold cheese and scoffed them down, I’m so hungry. I missed my friend Jane, she works with me at the stupid office. It’s really un-meaningful work but Jane makes it fun, she sends me rude jokes and chucks the odd stationary item at me when she thinks nobody is watching. I especially missed my cat, it sounds sad I know but he is so cuddly and always so playful.  

The afternoon turned into night without any new noises or lights, the suitcase was a bust, just clothes. Swimming costumes and cardigans. The normal getaway case for any girl taking a trip away. The only useful item was some dry shampoo, Thomas insisted I left some money for the food in case we later had to pay the consequences of entering their home. I wrote a note:

Dear sir/madam  

Me and my brother ate some of your nice cheese, I think it was Bree but I am uneducated in the cheese area. It was very nice and I have left you some money. I hope you’re not too mad, your door was open and your dog attacked me. He seemed very upset about something. Perhaps next time you go out you should lock your door and take the dog.

Thanks you for the food

Concerned citizen, Mia.  

I decided we should run back to grandads, gather all the food he had left and climb back into the loft. As we left the house it felt colder than before, the moon finally decided to show its face, as a conscience the street looked a lot less horrifying. Maybe this was all just in our heads after all? I locked grandad’s door and even stuck a couple of boxes in front of them, using the new torches Thomas found we split up. I gathered all the food, utensils, and batteries. Thomas grabbed bedding, jumpers then filled the bath with water. He saw on television once that in the event of an emergency it’s important to fill everything you have with water before its shut off. We took Grandads can opener with the intensions of unpacking all his fishing gear, I knew he had a little gas cooker. Whilst I set up some questionable beds Thomas searched through Grandads boxes, we shut off all of the torches but one. The room felt a lot smaller now and the air was cold, almost like frost was growing over the roof tiles above, the air felt thin as well as thick. A strange wetness about everything you touch, Like water was seeping out of my skin.

Thomas found a wind up radio, he turned the little crank slowing as if it was a delicate job. All our questions are finally going to be answered, he flicked the switch on then begun to scroll through frequency's, nothing came out but black and white fuzz. Scrolling past stations than fell silent, large companies who even in the worst situations I've known continue to broadcast. I felt anticipation for something, anything. Anxiety would have been a better word. How can there be nothing Thomas? Where do we even go from here  

"let's just keep listening, maybe the aerial is broken?"  

It's entirely plausible that it is just a cheap radio, it was only little; the size of a torch and a bold green colour. We left it on a silent station. The local London station that normally broadcasts bad music and lot's of traffic updates. I slipped under the covers turned off the light, silently waiting, always waiting for something. The radio begun to fade out slowly, I guessed it was running out of power. Thomas are you awake? How can he sleep like this, with everyone gone. It doesn't add up, no bodies, no warning. Everything seemed normal yesterday morning, life was just standard. I went to work, had my performance review. Graded a strong member of the team, achieved bonus for the month, finally sorted through my emails. I even ordered a new microwave, dam. I guess that's not coming now, with nobody to deliver it, oh and no power to use it. I wasn't looking forward to going to grandad's house, I mean it is depressing. Packing up someone's entire life in boxed, chucking out all the things he deemed worthy to keep but we don't. I drove straight here after work, only stopping off to get our dinner. It wasn't as busy as it usually is but I figured it's Friday. My stomach was growling, my eyes still so sore. I don't know if I can handle this anymore, part of me thinks It's all so stupid. That we should just drive into central and find someone.  

The loft hatch began to shake, only slightly but enough for me to sit up. Thomas was gone, I called out for him but my voice had been taken away from me. Normally something like that would strike up an unimaginable amount of fear and panic in me, for some reason I felt still and calm. I was scared sure, just not uncontrollably scared. I looked around as much as I could, the room still dark, the camping light and torches were gone. Maybe with Thomas? The skylight window offered a limited light from the bright moon, something was scraping at the hatch. Like a dog but bigger, how can it even reach the hatch without the ladder. I crawled closer, trying to peak through the tiny gaps now appearing were the hatch meets the wooden floor. The scraping turned into a fit of rage, something was now smashing into the wood, tearing away chunks. I finally screamed, so loud. Everything in my body went numb, my voice not breaking from the scream. I flung my body under Grandad's bedding, like a child hiding from a storm. Catching my breath under the covers, something climbed into the loft with me. I'm not alone anymore, claw sounds scratched against the floor as it came towards me. I have nowhere to go, nothing to protect myself with. It's breathing heavy like a dog's, it's heat projecting towards me. I felt a weighted mass climb up onto my legs, crushing them slightly. I tried to pull them out from under, I'm too weak. It's now laying on me, I pulled back the covers. It wasn't lying on me, it was standing over me with four chunky legs and jet black eyes. Four bony arms, one looked rotten. It's face almost entirely covered in thick mould, maybe even moss. Each arm has a hand, four fingers and one thumb. Like a human but with long finger nails covered in black dirt. It's body looked skinny and pale in the moon light, What are you? It didn't make a sound, it just raised one of it's arms and impaled me with it's nails.

"Mia! Wake up!" Thomas awoke me from the worst dream that I've ever had.  

"Mia seriously, listen!"

Gasping for air, soaked in sweat. I tried to calm myself and listen. The radio. It was playing music, it was a classical song. The one from the theme park advert, it was both exciting and menacing. I started to laugh, for the first time me and Thomas goofed around a little. Dancing around the loft, trying not to hit our heads on the low beams. The song went on for what felt like the end of time, playing with out emotions.  

"Mia did the song just-"  

It's on a loop! Why would someone do this?  

"at least it's something though, someone must be out there"  

We aren't alone anymore.

I felt myself becoming tearful, my heart sped up again. The pounding of eternity, just when things start to feel better something comes along and reminds me that my own worst nightmare is me. I've suffered from anxiety attacks my entire life, from silly things like calling the bank to driving alone. I've always pretended I'm someone else, like an actor playing the role of a confident young lady. I don't want to be that girl anymore, I want to take risks in life, get promotions, put myself out there. My watch had stopped but I think it was about six in the morning, I told Thomas about my dream. All he said was that grandad doesn't have a window in his loft, I couldn't help but think he was hiding something from me. The day felt as dark as my thoughts, today we have to leave. I cannot spend another hour in this loft, cramped up to my darling brother.  

We opened the hatch for the last time, it made it's normal fud against the wall. Letting down the chunky metal ladder; I through down the radio and some of grandads fishing gear, I figured the camping fire and tools might come in useful. We climbed down the ladder, still dark. Where has the sun gone, this doesn't make sense? The boxes at the front door had been knocked over maybe by someone trying to get in, I couldn't careless at this moment in time. Looking for my bag in the dark living room. Must find my car keys."That's strange Mia, the boxes have been pushed over" "Why didn't we hear-" Thomas I really don't have the energy to care right now.  

I know I'm being rude, this is just getting all too much. Where are my stupid keys, I'm sure as hell not walking back to central. I through boxes of china around, the poor light made it almost impossible to find my car keys. Breaking plates and angry slurs from my mouth filled the room. "try to keep it down sis" NO! I've had enough. The door creaked open from a strange gust of wind, the cold air gave me a deep chill running up my spine. Why is the door open? "I told you the boxes were pushed over" We both stared at each other for a while, the door now wide open.  

"I'm sorry to bother you, I can see you're a little busy" A figure had appeared in the doorway, tall shadowy figure. He spoke with an athorative tone, almost like he would be a police man, or maybe a security guard at the national art gallery. I picked up a plate, I know it seems like a pathetic weapon of choice but there wasn't anything else around. Thomas shone his torch light at his face. "I live just down the road, well I am unsure but I think I've been asleep for almost three days now" He looked about twenty seven I think, I'm not very good at guessing ages. He was wearing a white shirt with a black skinny tie, black skinny jeans and brown brogues. Clean shaven with short dark hair and bright hazel eyes, he was a cliché beautiful person.  

"you're the first person we've seen for days, where do you live?" Thomas shouted at him.  

"listen guys, what's going on, I haven't been able to use my phone and the powers out"  

What's your name?

"I'm Peter night" he said looking around the room

What are you looking for Peter night?

"I thought I saw something, that's why I'm here." He spoke a little softer than before.

Saw what?

"It doesn't matter, are you guys going somewhere?" He asked

Thomas shouted again, and before I knew it this stranger was coming with us. We gave up on my keys and decided to take Peter's truck. The air felt a lot warmer now, I started to sweat a little, drips of salty tasting liquid fell from my forehead. I don't know why but this made me even more anxious, maybe it was because Peter although strange, was probably the most attractive man I've ever laid my eyes on. His skin looked soft and tanned, a smile so perfect it could light up an entire street. Wait, that's not his smile. Guys! The street! It's....glowing! Peter ran out first, he began to shout "NO, JESUS NO, MY HOUSE, PLEASE NO" I pushed past Thomas who was standing silently with his mouth open, Peter's house was on fire. The flames leaped well above the height of the house, dancing in the sky like fireworks. Black smoke escaped the house gracefully turning white as it reached the nights sky, Peter's cries for help faded out of focus, all I could concentrate on was the sinister sound of the crackling house. It consumed me, the fire was so beautiful, like somehow it was clenseing my soul of all anxieties, all it's deepest fears. Reaching depths of my mind that I never knew existed before, something in me wanted to change. Let go of it all, become the girl that other people are scared of, the type of girl to walk down dark alleys alone at night.

Thomas grabbed my arm pulling tearing me away from the only sense of paradise I will ever feel, he pulled me towards Grandads house. "Mia just listen to me, where is your car? Where is peters truck?" The street is empty, not even that Jager we saw is here anymore. The sky seemed lighter now, like the sun was finally returning to us. "Mia, what are we going to do?" Thomas sounded hysterical. We will have to walk Thomas, Peter let's go. I'm not staying here any longer than we have to. "I can't just let my house burn Mia Peter sounded angry, like somehow this was my fault. What are you going to do call the fire brigade? I know I shouldn't have said it but it just slipped out of my mouth. I cringed at myself waiting for his reply. "Fine, but we go to the train station" he said with a monotone voice. "Why, there wont be anyo-" Peter cut off Thomas and explained that although he didn't expect the train to be running it was a more direct route to central. He planned to leave us when we got to the waterloo to go look for his grandparents, he spoke like nothing mattered anymore. What was in his house that meant so much to him?  

We started to walk up the hill away from  central London, no smoke above central since the first day of the explosions. This must have meant that either someone put out any fires or that the explosion was controlled in some way. I walked infront of Tom and Peter pretending that I was content on being alone, I could hear them talking about Peter's job. From what I could make out he was a glorified web designer, making banking applications for mobile phones and tablets. He earned enough to buy a house out right in edges of London, drove a large truck and played lot's of video games. Thomas seemed to like Peter but I couldn't help thinking they were hiding something, they spoke softly at times so that I couldn't hear. I know paranoia this isn't paranoia. Being paranoid is when you think someone is following you, or checking your food isn't poisoned. I heard my name a couple of times. Did you say my name? "erm yeah, just slow down Mia. We don't want to lose you!" Thomas acted as if everything was normal, but I knew it wasn't. The street was cold, dark and somehow wet although haven't seen rain since it all started. That's rare for England, The houses looked normal; as if nothing had happened. I felt like knocking on each door asking for some help, maybe people where just hiding. I mean Peter was home right?  

We reached the top of the hill, Thomas and Peter standing next to me we looked down on Crayford. It's a small down connecting to Kent and London, there was nobody around. Only a few cars scattered around but bursting with flames, the air smelt of smoke and strangely petrichor. It was exactly twelve twenty when we reached the sports outlet, Thomas thought that we could all do with some better clothing for the long walk we had ahead of us. We were ignorant to approach the building so quickly without calculating the best vantage points. The doors were suppose to be automatic however without power they were midway closed, I could squeeze through but I honestly didn't want to. Peter and Thomas pushed and pulled at the sliding door, trying to force them open. I found a large rock and just through it at the glass doors. They shattered in front of us, Thomas yelling at me and peter rushing us inside as if we were not alone. I don't know why I did it, I just did. Something maybe the fact it was getting all too tedious caused me to smash the doors. I'm growing ever tired of not having answers, I've had no food or sleep for what feels like weeks.  

The store was giant and intimidating, like a somehow it felt like it was better than me. I know that sounds stupid there was just something about that place that didn't feel right. Peter stormed off in a tantrum towards the shoes near the front, trying on ridulosly lavish styles. Throwing the ones that didn't fit him on the floor, Thomas yelled towards him "Try to not trash the place Petey" Petey, what they're friends now. "Hey, I need a new wardrobe, mine went up in flames" he laughed at himself. Thomas I'm going to look at the girls clothes, I walked off down the middle of the store, just a little torch we found at the neighbours in hand. The store didn't have iles it was more of a large jumble sale, racks of reduced hideous clothing. Track suits and trainers aren't really my style but who cares, Peters a dick and Thomas is my brother. Nobody to impress anymore, I found a beige blouse and some denim dungaree's. A large baggy jumper and some high-top black boots, I stuffed them into a backpack then headed towards the changing room.  

The changing room was plastered in pretty people posters, young teenagers with blonde hair and perfect bodies surfing the great waves of some unknown sea. Red velvet curtains covering the little sections that people change in, walking slowing down to the end one so that Peter couldn't see me I heard something. Crying, someone or something was crying. I hoped to god that it wasn't Thomas, the lobby smelt of new clothes and the floor was wet. I took half steps towards the crying, each footstep squelching on the damp floor. I called out a couple of times, "Are you okay Thomas?" My torch gave off a low orange light, only circling on what you focused it on; I could see coat hangers, baskets full of clothes as if people had dropped them and ran. The crying stopped, I could only assume Thomas had become embarrassed. I grabbed the curtain and pulled it back slowly, it was soft but cheap. The type you would find at a school, my socks felt damp from all the water. I didn't scream nor run, I just froze staring at her. She was so white in the face, her body covered in blood, similar to the red velvet curtains. Her eyes had been ripped from her skull, teeth scattered on the floor. I imagined they would crunch under my weight, something had ripped her to pieces. Chunks of flesh everywhere, like she has been put into a blender without the lid on. Dried blood spatters across the white walls of the cubicle, an arm missing. Bones showing from every part of her body, was she eaten? I didn't do anything. I just let go of the curtain and walked back into the shop. So much to think over, so much to contemplate, nothing made sense. Why was she dead, her body torn apart and hung up for someone to see. Was she left for me?  

“Nice jumper” Thomas mocked me. They found me laying behind the till counter, I could hear them calling my name. I just wasn't in the mood to respond, the store was huge. The front was covered  mainly In glass with tall sale posters in every window pane, manikins styling sporting outfits, rails made the place look untidy and claustrophobic. The word sale splatter on every wall, rail, window even clothing items. The longer I looked at the word the more my brain played tricks on me. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. It was everywhere one moment and gone the next. I knew that seeing that girl would mess with me,  I just didn't know how. I felt so angry, it was building inside me. I could feel myself pushing back the rage packing it tightly inside my stomach almost making me nauseous. I got myself in such a state I couldn't decided if I was holding back anger or actual vomit, actually. It's vomit. My mouth jolted open and dark bile fell all over Peter. "What the hell Mia!" He wasn't happy. He marched away cursing my name, calling me a stupid girl. A pile of thick dark liquid laying on the floor infront of me, I've never seen sick like this before. Thomas patted me on the back whilst getting up to chase after him, I could hear Thomas trying to calm Peter down. He's so rude, both of them.

Peter

"Look, I know she's your sister but-"

"Yeah she is, so just leave it alone" Thomas cut me off

We sat on the floor outside the changing rooms, I kept playing with the laces on my shoes whilst Thomas picked up a barrel of golf balls he knocked by accident.  

"Listen your sister isnt right, you know that right" the words just slipped out of my mouth.  

"She's my sister Peter" He was pissed at me.

"Well there is something...."  

"Go on buddy?"  

I hate it when people do this, it's like why the pause, or when people say I know something I cant tell you.

"She said she had a dream, where something was scratching at the loft door trying to get in and-"

"Why was you sleeping in the loft!" I couldn't help myself but ask.

"and it impaled her with something, well I didn't think anything of it at the time"  

Thomas paused for a while

"But well, when we left the loft there was these claw like marks on the top of the hatch" He looked scared.

"It was like something was trying to get out, not in" He started to laugh nervously.

"It's stupid right"

I just smiled at him, I mean something isn't right with that girl but I highly dought she's a young wolf. I chucked a golf ball at him and our eyes met, he looked sad. It's understandable, he's got a freak for a sister and the worlds gone to shit. Well presumably gone to shit, I'm still holding out for a decent explanation.  

We decided to check out the staff room, maybe there was food or a vending machine. Mia was laying on the floor next her gross sick, probably feeling sorry for herself. "Listen Mia, I over reacted.....I'm sorry" I pulled a dopey smile at her.  

"Look Peter, pull that shit again and you're on your own" She had a nasty face on her, god I hope she slips in her sick. Tom jumped over the till counter and knocked on the staff room door. "Hello, anyone in there?" He shouted with a geeky look on his face. Mia pushed past him and tried to open the door, it was locked. A silver keypad with numbers and letters. "Now what boys?" I started to type in random sequences like the classic 0000, of course nothing happened. Mia was looking through the draws on the counter, she was chucking things around and Thomas was picking them up. The door has a tall sheet on safety glass in it, althought it was so dark inside I could only just make out a table. Something was laying on the floor next to it. I asked Tom is I could borrow his torched and started to look around the room leaning my head against the window pane, a table sat in the center of the room with five brightly coloured chairs  tuc