“You want me to lead the group, but I don’t think I can!” I exclaimed in desperation. “Listen to me!” the chief yelled. “I don’t have much time. You need to do this. You’re our only hope.” He put his bloody hand on my shoulder reassuringly while the other clamped the mortal wound in his stomach. He released a last shuddering breath, and his hand fell limply to his side. Dread washed over me as I looked around the Church. ‘What are we going to do?’ I thought.
Three days ago, my class of about 20 students, 11 boys and 9 girls, including me, was brought to a forest on the outskirts of our town for our senior camping trip. Our plan was to explore the area for a week before moving on to the seaside. On the very first day, we found a great campsite and got to work setting up the tents. The boys got one corner with four tents, while the girls got three tents in the middle of the campsite.
The second day was spent organizing activities for the rest of the week and gathering necessary supplies. We also explored the area of about 2 miles surrounding our campsite. Then, on the third day, the real exploration began, and that was when everything changed.
A group of 5 boys were out scouting for fruits or anything edible they could find so it could be added to our rations in case they ran out. During their search, they discovered an old abandoned church. Upon further inspection, they saw signs indicating that there were people living there. Once back at camp, they reported this to the head councillor, who everyone called ‘Chief’. This news was shocking for us because the area where the church was found was once a part of an old inhabited city. So, the chief ordered the female councillor, Miss Amani, to go back to the city and alert the police while the rest of us went to the church with him.
When we arrived at our destination, chills filled our bodies. An eerie silence hung in the air. The chief reluctantly opened the doors, and then the rampage started. It was already nighttime, and within the darkness of the church, we saw hundreds of pairs of red hungry eyes staring at us. The chief slammed the doors shut, and everyone sprinted away towards the camp. Out of fear, or maybe curiosity, I glanced over my shoulder and immediately regretted it.
Not far behind us, hundreds of mutilated beings were chasing us. Their haunting eyes were fixed on our bodies, and they were getting closer no matter how fast we ran. Their mouths hung open, exposing dark, bloody teeth. “They are not human beings.” I thought, terrified, “they’re beasts!”.
We somehow managed to make it to camp and gather some necessities, torches, food, ropes, batteries, and a few blankets. The chief had divided us into groups so we could work faster. We ran and ran, but the forest never came to an end. Chief, who was leading the group, stopped abruptly. We all looked up and saw the same church look even more menacing than before. We knew we had no choice but to enter it.
Once in the church, rotten corpses and blood stench hit our noses. Our eyes widened as we saw corpses stacked upon each other everywhere. One of the girls pointed out a door in the back. We began walking towards it in a pack. Halfway there, we were attacked. Dozens of those red-eyed beasts flung themselves at us, scratching and clawing at our skin. We fought back a little until one of us reached the door and pulled the rest through.
We locked the door; the stench of fresh blood made me want to throw up. We made it to the room but not without casualties; the chief now lay dead at my feet, his words haunting my mind. I looked up at the group. Out of 21, only 14 survived. Sobs echoed across the room. I looked at the chief, “Don’t worry, sir; I promise I’ll get us all out of here, even if it costs me my life”.
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