Introduction to Horror Writing for Young Adults

Regina woke up from the cold. The icy wind had gotten into her bones, and the damp, searing pain in her back made her rise from the ground. What time would it be? He looked out the window. It was still dark outside, although the sky was beginning to take on a reddish hue that caused him an involuntary shiver at the thought that it was just the color of the dust that got everywhere in that damn town. He felt hungry. His mouth was dry. He remembered the breakfast they had been given at the ranch... how many days ago? Two? Three? His taste buds faithfully recreated the sensation of beans and cheese, he could even conjure up the smell of freshly made tortillas, the sensation of the mist of pot coffee caressing the tip of his nose. He stopped torturing himself with the memory when he heard someone cough. Charlie. It was the same dry, raspy cough from the day before, interrupted from time to time by wheezing, labored breathing. "It's very bad," a voice whispered behind him. It was Oscar. Regina nodded, concerned. He thought about what they had read the day before in the medical reports. "We have to wake up the others," she said. A ray of sunlight streamed through the window and fell squarely on Charlie's face. Liliana gasped: the boy's skin was dry and cracked, like clay. From the cracks along his lips, forehead, and cheeks, oozed thick, dark blood that coagulated almost immediately. "He's becoming one of them," Oscar explained. "Don't talk bullshit," Joserra thundered. "They're not bullshit," Regina dared to contradict him. It was the first time she'd ever gone against him on anything and she felt her face burning with embarrassment. And it frustrated him to feel embarrassed about something like that, knowing that he was right. He tried to stop overanalyzing everything and continued. It's in the files we found yesterday. When the sunlight is strongest... He couldn't say it. Horror and sadness clogged her throat in equal measure. At that, Charlie tried to speak, but only managed a long coughing fit that made him double over. Sweat broke out on her forehead from the effort, and Regina was careful not to mention that the sweat was also reddish and thick. Every time Charlie tried to inhale, a crackling hiss rose up his throat from his chest. Bruno spilled some water on his lips. Although they had very little left, no one objected or complained. Charlie drank greedily and, after a moment, forced himself to suck in a breath. "Get…get me," she said in a small voice. Another fit of coughing interrupted him. It took longer to catch his breath. "I…I don't want to…hurt…them," he was finally able to gasp. Joserra turned pale. "Is it really going to turn into one of those things?" he asked with disgust. "Get me out... get me out... I'll kill this one," Charlie joked, with a very sad expression. Oscar and Bruno exchanged a quick glance and, without saying anything, each took Charlie by the arm and helped him to the door. The sound Charlie made as he tried to get oxygen into his lungs was that of stones crushing sand. His eyes, injected in that blackish and coagulated blood, were opaque, the pupils turned into two tiny points. "Smells like mud," Liliana murmured. "No, it's not mud," Regina said just as softly. It is… He didn't dare say it. It was the smell of a septic tank, of a sewage canal. He sensed that it was the stench of Charlie's internal organs, decomposing by the action of the spores. Reaching the door, a new coughing fit brought Charlie to his hands and knees without Oscar and Bruno being able to stop it. Charlie then vomited a long, dark red viscous liquid. Then, exhausted, he fell on his own vomit and convulsed again. Out of modesty, out of pity, they all averted their eyes, until Joserra shouted: "Close the fucking door already!" Regina turned to look at him. She realized that Joserra was about to cry and she felt again that the tenderness for him flooded her. It was absurd, but he couldn't help it. "Don't fuck with her, Joserra," Bruno replied. He is our compa, our carnal. At least wait until we are sure that… —Close! Liliana shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Charlie. And the fact is that while everyone had turned to look at Joserra, Charlie had stood up, and now he was taking a slow step, very slow, as if he were just discovering the relationship between his bones and his muscles and tendons, as if little by little prove that the foot and the calf, the thigh and the trunk were really linked. But that thing that had gotten up and was walking towards them, that wasn't Charlie. His face no longer seemed parched and cracked, but carved out of rock. He was completely expressionless and, at the same time, exuded a deep and dangerous hatred. As if waking up from a dream, Braulio and Oscar entered the building and closed the door. They leaned against her, trying to keep her firm without making a sound, while tears bathed their faces. What had been Charlie before was now banging on the door and roaring with a sound that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth. And then… silence. A few minutes later, through the window, the teenagers could see how what had been Charlie was now leaning over a mound of dust to take a handful of reddish earth into his mouth, and then another, and another. Then he straightened up and stumbled to join a group of monsters moving away toward the town's main square.