H.R.R. Book 1: The Beginning - Chapter 2

I picked up the small bag I packed, left a note, and walked outside. Stepping outside felt like sitting in the electric chair. I now didn’t walk to Joe’s to hang out, but to make sure he was alright. I walked into the fog about 30 yards and looked back. I could see nothing through the fog. I marched on.
About a block and a half into the walk I stopped. I don’t know what it was, but I couldn’t move. A chill went down my spine. I was frozen with fright. Next moment, I had reason to worry. A howl, no a screech, came from the distance. Certainly not human. Though embarrassing, I will admit…I wet myself. Then I saw it. It was a human’s silhouette, but that was as human as it got. It was rotting alive (alive?) and dripping a foul ooze. It smelled of death, and…old cheese? Its eyes were glazed pink, pus and blood. It wore a suit, torn and tattered and with a bite mark in the left elbow, bleeding blood and that ooze. It looked at me and charged. I panicked, unable to think of what to do.
When it got about three feet away, my body acted, but against my will. I threw a punch straight into its disgusting face. Bad mistake really, since back then, I couldn’t throw a punch worth ****. It seemed more surprised than anything else, looking at me like when a toy dog bites you. It then proceeded to attack again. I was on the defense again, but through the haze of it all, I guess I decided to kick it…you know where. And you know what, IT WORKED! Then, while it was stunned I kicked it in the chest and then tackled it to the ground. I could never do this in real life, thank God for adrenaline. While it was down, I stomped it in the head…again and again, ‘til it was nothing but gray and red mush. I looked for a second or two, and then promptly vomited…a lot. I then ran to Joe’s house, broke through the front window forgetting my manners to knock, and promptly passed out on the carpet.