THE L O S T  B O Y S.

The sound of wood snapping made Jonathan stop dead in his tracks as he reached his humble home. It hasn't been long since he left the city and the thought of someone following him only made his stomach turn in fear. It wasn't like it use to be when he was with his group.

Normally he wouldn't have to worry about something like this cause there was so many people in his group that he could count on to have back but now there was just him. He didn't have a choice but to be on guard. Getting use to the idea of keeping watch was hard at first but when he normally got his head torn off by an infected changed it.

His paranoia went up.

Now anytime there was even a sound he made sure to react by turning around with his hand on his knife. There was nothing there however. The feeling was just coming from his head and he knew it but sometimes it felt real enough to make him turn around.

Jonathan opened the door to his small shack and threw his bag down before lighting a match and hitting a candle, bringing the flame to life. His blue eyes stared at it as it danced around in a beautiful sway back and fourth. He smiled lightly as he backed away from it but then it disappeared as the air around him suddenly went cold and the room darkened.

Bloodshed Jon..remember the promise you made to us both.

No response was given from the man who was stiffer than a board. Even he held his breath. Suddenly the dark room faded and he let out a quick pant before sitting on the edge of his bed.

Silence surrounded him.

"Man," The sound of his voice echoed. "I'm running short on food again damn it." At that he fell back onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling. It was as if time had stopped for he could see an ember freeze, the sound of screaming filled the room but he didn't dare to move. The reflection of flames latching onto the infected glistened in his eyes but he did not blink nor did he take a breath. In stillness he sat. "Is this what I want?"

The question that left his mind years ago was now back into his head. He had no one and for all he knew he was the only sane human left on this planet! Yet was he sane? Thinking back to the man who speaks to him with such disrespect and the flaming dream he has had since Bryce left he couldn't tell if he was going insane.

Jonathan pulled himself up and walked to the door, his fingers gently brushing against the curtain, he pulled them back. The darkness surrounded the outside but the light of an infected's eye caught his attention. The soulless figure was staring his way but he was too silent for it to take notice of him in any way. It turned away from him and he dropped the fabric so it covered up the window again.

They're moving to the woods...

"I know this." Jon replied to no one. "I have to move soon."

Suggest you do..

Jonathan looked to his bag and checked his supplies before gently sitting it on the wooden table. The smell of rotting wood filled his nose as the floor underneath him creaked loudly and caused a racket. He was sure if the floor was a person it'd be crying for him to release it.

Jonathan turned around and was met with the mudded purple shirt he had found weeks ago. His hand reached out to grasp the item only to have it jerk to a stop, his eyes narrowed. "Bryce..." He whispered out as he pulled his hands away. "You better be with Ohm..alive."

----Photo Credit---
•Aryana