Necrosis
Chapter 1: The Result of a Death
So far, the auditions had gone off without a hitch. It had been one of those random occurrences, when a talent scout had witnessed the three friends and their town's annual talent show, he had immediately seen their potential, they could go places, those three. He had hastily scribbled down their names and recommended them to a small studio holding auditions for a new TV series. Three friends walked down the sidewalk, talking and joking, just as they would on any day. Karla hadn't known much about either of the other two until the talent show, the three had shared jobs in the office but she had rarely spoken to them. Trevor and Ian were close friends, their cubicles were adjacent to each other and they'd convinced Karla to join them in the talent show as their performance required a third member. Trevor was a strong young man, barely twenty-three, and had an inept sense of caring towards everyone he met, including his new wife. Ian was older than Trevor by four years, and much more of a cynical person. In his earlier years he'd been something of a misanthrope, but gradually grew to tolerate people. Karla was twenty-five and had always been the girl that was out of the loop on everything, whether it was on the latest gossip around the school when she was young or the new stories around the office now. People just felt there was something weird about Karla, so they avoided her.
"Thanks for lunch Ian," said Karla as the trio walked back to the studio.
"It would have been kinda romantic if Trevor wasn't there." She smiled up at him. Trevor slapped Karla on the back of the head.
"Does that mean you guys didn't actually want me there?" said Trevor jokingly, "That means I missed out on eating alone at some cheap hot dog stand."
Ian laughed while Karla made a face of disgust.
"Well, are you guys ready for the second half of the auditions?"
"Yeah!" Karla replied "I get to knock some guy out in one of my scenes; that ought to be fun." A mischievous smile played across her face.
"Let's not get violent here." Chuckled Trevor "Speaking of which, you guys hear that the government had to quarantine some cities, weird disease spreading in em, I hear Vegas went under lockdown yesterday."
"Well that's a damn shame." Retorted Karla sarcastically
"Let's drop the subject." Ian suggested "That whole thing is just depressing, next thing you know, we're gonna have raccoon city on our hands."
The trio broke out into laughter. They had reached the studio and it was starting to get dark out early, the cold December air beginning to bite. As they glanced around through the small offices and few studios, they noticed something.
"Where is everyone?" wondered Ian aloud.
"Maybe they all are still out to lunch." Karla suggested.
"It's late as it is, kinda creepy that they're not back by now." Said Ian with a hidden grin
"The only thing making this creepy is you." Said Trevor with a smile.
"But really, we should try and find somebody and finish these auditions up," said Trevor "I need to be home before nine, or my wife'll kill me."
A painful scraping noise pierced the friends' ears, sending chills down their spines. The scraping was followed by the sound of something heavy being dumped onto the ground and then all at once, the lights went out. They stood, frozen, fearful of what they could not see, fearful of the unknown, as all humans are.
"I think we should get outta here." Whispered Ian
"What's to be afraid of," said Trevor with a hidden element of nervousness, "It's just an empty studio, there's nobody here but us."
"I think we should make sure," suggested Karla, "Besides, this could be more interesting than just talking."
Trevor took out his phone, using its weak light to try and get some of his sight back. The other two did the same, and started down the hallway, towards the noises from earlier.
'I'd rather not do this, but if they will, then I will too' thought Ian to himself.
'I hope this turns out to be worth the effort' though Karla.
'These two, I wonder what I'd be like without them.' thought Trevor with a smile.
"Over here guys," said Trevor as he opened a door, "The janitor's closet, we could borrow some flashlights or something."
"Good thinking." Said Ian, "My phone wasn't doing a damned thing to help."
They all took flashlights, and started down the hallway again. Three separate circles of light moved precariously around the space ahead of them, searching the bleak darkness for the unknown. Farther away from them, another scraping noise was heard, this time it was much more prolonged. The scraping changed to a metallic tapping, growing closer to them with every step they took. Trevor put his hand in front of Karla and Ian, motioning for them to stop moving. He put a finger to his lips and pointed towards the tapping noise, mixed with the tapping noise was the sound of shuffling, clumsy footsteps. They pointed their flashlights towards the sounds, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything to appease their curiosity, to quell their fears.
'Let it be a drunk janitor or something.' Thought Ian as images of every monster movie he'd seen flashed in and out of his mind's eye.
Trevor lowered his voice to below that of a whisper, "I think that it's just a janitor, they do work late sometimes after all."
"I don't think it's a janitor." Said Karla as she started stepping backwards
Ian moved his flashlight again and caught a glimpse of hair and pale green, its clawed hands tapped against the wall as it moved. Ian let out a stifled scream and started backing away. Karla saw a giant arachnid face, covered in many black reflective eyes. The creature moved faster now, breaking into a run.
"N-no way!" said Karla, "This just can't be real!"
Try as he might, Ian had lost his ability to move. 'RUN GODDAMNIT!' he yelled to himself. But the monster before him was just too horrible; he was paralyzed by his fear. Karla started walking backwards slowly. The creature sped up, only a few meters away from them now.
"GET BACK!" screamed Trevor as he pushed his friends back the way they came; he quickly turned to face the enemy before him. 'Protect them.' He thought to himself, 'Protect them all'
Ian's flashlight gave little sense of direction to help him as he followed the faster Karla down the hallway. Karla broke even farther ahead of him and suddenly stopped. 'What is she doing?" Thought Ian, then it occurred to him when he heard glass break. 'She's busting the window on a door to get inside!' Karla dove inside the studio room and took cover behind a chair. Ian quickly followed her, taking cover next to the door, trying to catch a glimpse of Trevor or that thing he saw earlier.
"Just what the hell was that!" said Karla between sobs, "It, it wasn't human!" Ian barely looked at her; he just kept scanning the hall with his eyes, trying to see his friend through the darkness. "I mean did you see that thing?" cried Karla again, "Did you see it?"
"Yes, I saw it." Said Ian, "Now be quiet, I'm trying to hear what's going on back there."
"He's dead!" cried Karla, "Trevor's dead! He has to be!" Karla broke down into a childlike cry. "This isn't happening, this isn't happening, oh god this can't be happening!"
The thing ran at Trevor, lifting a knifelike hand over its head and then bringing it down onto Trevor, who turned his body enough to only get a shallow cut on his arm. Trevor threw his flashlight at the thing, hitting it in the head, stunning it briefly. He sprinted down the hall, into the Janitor's closet, and grabbed a broom. 'I can't see anything!' Thought Trevor as he squinted in the darkness, trying to see It. A shrill, high pitched laugh struck Trevor. He walked back into the hallway again, broom in front of him like a fighting staff. The Thing stood in the open, knife appendage hanging at its side like a broken arm. It started walking in a shuffling, sloth-like motion, leaning to one side with every step. Trevor charged forward, bringing his broom up at the Thing at an angle, catching it in the head. The Thing yelped in pain before it laughed again and grabbed the broomstick. It pulled itself at Trevor with insane speed and struck him, Trevor stood motionless, the knife appendage sticking in his stomach. Trevor felt skewered like some kind of animal, the knife a blade of numbness, which was spreading around the wound. The thing pulled the blade out of him in a quick, vicious motion, and all at once pain seared throughout Trevor. His stomach was only ground zero; the pain leeched its way all over his legs, which gave out beneath him. Trevor pushed himself backwards, towards the janitor's closet, his mind in chaos, his body even worse. His hands felt like wooden fakes, giving no sensation of pain or anything otherwise as he crawled into the closet. The Thing was following slowly, emitting a shrill laugh every few seconds, as if something were tickling it. It seemed to be enjoying Trevor's anguish, savoring the pure emotion and distress. Trevor pulled himself up to sitting position, leaning against the cold wall. The Thing was right in front of him, laughing like a maniac, reaching into the air with its knife appendage. Trevor put his arm up over his face as the Thing struck him again and again. Soon he didn't have the strength to hold his arm up and it fell uselessly to his side, covered in vicious slashes, blood openly pouring from the numbed wounds.
"Please…" muttered Trevor weakly, "Stop…"
The Thing stopped for a second before kicking him in the stomach, sending Trevor from sitting position to the floor.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that!" said the Thing in a frantic voice as it kicked him over and over. "Did you say you wanted me to stop? Well I have news for you; I'm having way too much fun with you to stop now!"
Trevor could barely hear the Thing now; he couldn't respond to it even if he wanted to, his lungs were filling with his own blood. His body convulsed and he puked up his precious life-fluids, breath strained and inconsistent. The Thing saw Trevor's condition and rolled him over to face the ceiling, preventing Trevor from puking up more blood.
'It hurts.' Though Trevor, 'What do I do? Someone…someone save me! Karla, Ian, ANYONE! It hurts so much…'
The Thing started to walk away, its prey no longer making noise. Then it felt something grab its leg, It looked down to see the broken shape of its victim, wrapping his good hand around it's ankle.
"Oh? You can still move? How persistent you are!"
The Thing put its foot onto Trevor's exposed neck, and slowly pressed down. Trevor made a gurgling noise and clawed at Its foot, each attempt becoming weaker and weaker. The lights flickered on, revealing the Monster in all its terrible horror: a balding, middle aged man, holding a bloody knife in one hand. The man walked down the hall, towards the room where he knew he'd find the other two.
"Damnit!" yelled Ian as he tried to call the police again, "I'm just not getting a signal."
Karla was on the floor, curled in the fetal position, with drool oozing from her mouth and onto the floor. She kept repeating it over and over like a chant, "This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening…"
Ian looked at Karla's pathetic form and kneeled down next to her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. He helped her up and she clung to him like a baby monkey to its parent.
"Ian…" muttered Karla through her quick and random breathing, "What's gonna happen to us?"
'We're probably going to die.' Though Ian to himself as he glanced out of the door's window again.
"We'll be alright." reassured Ian, "Don't worry; I won't let anything happen to you."
Karla buried her face in his shoulder before sitting back down onto the floor again. She wiped some tears from her face and looked Ian in the eyes.
"What about Trevor?" she asked, "He's out there alone with that thing…"
"Karla, you know Trevor, he wouldn't let something like tha-"
A shrill laugh cut the conversation like a razor blade as the man grew closer to the room they hid in. Ian turned off his flashlight and hid just next to the door, out of sight from the outside. Karla crawled behind a chair and put her hands to her ears.
The man smashed through the little glass window with his knife before he reached into the door with his arm, feeling for the doorknob. Ian jumped out from the darkness, pulling the man's arm down in a quick, jerking motion. The jagged glass cut into the man's arm, piercing an artery. The man jabbed his knife through the window, catching Ian's arm, the cut went deep. Ian screamed something awful and fell backwards, removing the knife from his arm, which bled profusely. Karla was huddled in a corner, legs close to her body, arms wrapped around herself.
"It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream…" she muttered again and again from under the chair. The man opened the door and walked towards Ian, clutching his bleeding arm.
"Karla!" cried Ian and the man got closer, "Help me!" Karla got up and smashed the chair over the man's head, sending him to the ground with a thud. Blood dripped from the man's ear, Karla broke down again, crying hysterically. Down the hall, Trevor's body convulsed as he drowned to death in his own blood.
"Is, is it over?" asked Ian to nobody in particular, "Did we get him?"
The man's body twitched for a second, and Ian kicked him in the head. After he didn't move anymore, they moved on, satisfied that he was out for good. Ian and Karla started down the hallway, to look for their friend. As they approached the Janitor's closet, Ian saw the growing puddle of blood and Trevor's lacerated arm sticking from the doorway.
"TREVOR!" yelled Ian as he ran to the door and saw his friend's still warm corpse with its eyes glaring towards the roof.
Ian crouched over Trevor's bloodied corpse, shaking him like a doll, trying to awaken his good friend. Karla dropped to her knees behind Ian, putting her face in her hands and crying.
"Trevor…" said Ian, "Y-you can't be gone!"
Karla fell to the floor, crying loudly. Ian kept shaking his friend.
"R-remember when we got into that fight in second grade?" asked Ian, "We really did a number on each other. It's one of my favorite memories…DAMNIT! You can't be dead! All the times we hung out together, DOESN'T THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU! WAKE UP!"
Ian buried his face in Trevor's chest, getting his friend's blood in his hair. Ian lifted himself up, and Trevor's blood trickled down from his hair, and pooled in his eyes before running down his cheek like a tear. Karla was lying still, in total shock, and barely moved as Ian walked past her and back into the classroom they'd hidden in. He walked up to form of the murderer, the middle aged man was surprisingly frail looking, and had very thin limbs.
"This guy?" Thought Ian to himself, "Did this guy really kill Trevor?"
The man stirred, his arms moved to push his torso up off the ground, and he got up into a sitting position. As this happened, Ian felt the rage growing inside him like an explosion, he gritted his teeth, squeezed his hands together until they started bleeding from his nails. Ian put a hand on his face, covering half of it, with only the side drenched in Trevor's blood visible.
The man groaned and felt the back of his head before looking up at Ian with a sense of confusion.
"Hey you?" said the man, "Were you the one who hit me?"
Ian stood, shaking with rage, and shook his head.
"Oh, musta been that pretty girl with the curls." Said the man nonchalantly, "I bet she'd taste great!"
"You, you killed Trevor." Said Ian in an unsteady voice, "Why?"
The man made a noise of confusion before laughing, "You really want to know?"
"Yes"
The man smiled broadly, "I don't really know why I did it, really just felt like it, like something in the back of my head told me that it'd be fun to try. And it really, really was!"
Ian got the sense that the man was being sarcastic. He got it in his head that someone must have paid this man to kill Trevor.
Ian burst forward, slamming the man against the wall with one arm, and grabbing the man's wrist with the other. He pushed the man's fingers into the doorway, and after pinning the man with his leg to free his other arm, pulled the door shut hard on the man's fingertips.
"How'd you like that?" asked Ian in a frantic voice, "You feel like telling me who paid you to do this?"
The man hadn't even let out a whimper when his finger tips shattered, "Not really, is that the best you've got?"
Ian pushed the rest of the man's hand into the doorway and spammed it down; he heard the sick crunch as every bone in the man's hand was destroyed. The man again looked almost bored.
"You done with that crap, kid?" asked the man, "I'm really itching to get at the pretty girl behind you."
"DON'T FUCK WITH ME!" yelled Ian as he reeled back to punch the man
Ian's fists flew at the man's face; he just laid there and took the hits. The man's face grew red and raw, soon his skin started to wear away and Ian's knuckles started bleeding. Ian's breath grew heavy and he cried out painfully each time his fist collided with the man's destroyed face. Tears rolled down Ian's cheeks, he felt a persistent pain in his cut arm which grew worse as threw more punches. He cursed at his arm and threw one more blow at the man, before getting up. The man's face was red and dark blue all over, blood dripped from his chin and splattered onto the floor, breaking the quiet that had ensued. Ian took a step towards Karla, before pain shot through his arm again, sending him to the floor in a heap of pain and agonizing cries of crushing pressure and intensity. It was more the situation than the wound that burned Ian. Karla crawled over to Ian, and helped him up to his feet. He looked once again at the man's beaten and broken face before Karla helped him out of the room.
"Trevor…" said Ian, "I protected her and survived myself, Trevor; I know that is what you wanted for us."
Karla suddenly stopped moving and started trembling. Inside the classroom, the sound of something dragging itself to its feet could be heard.
"I wonder…" came a high pitched voice from the classroom, "I wonder if you felt pleasure when you beat my face in."
Karla and Ian turned around, horrified and shocked. The Thing in the classroom started shuffling towards them.
"I wonder...I wonder if you could really be like me after all…" muttered the Thing as it stood in the doorway, placing a fingerless and bloodied hand on the door that had taken those fingers.
Karla took a step back and Ian got off of her shoulder, placing himself in between Karla and the Thing.
Ian shook his head, sending tears and blood flying everywhere.
"I'm nothing like YOU DAMNIT!" yelled Ian as he picked up the broomstick that Trevor had used to defend himself, "I'M NOT LIKE YOU!"
Ian broke the broomstick across the thing's head. The impact had the same sound as a wet rag hitting a table. Blood splattered onto the floor and onto Ian, but the Thing didn't move.
"You're wrong, boy." Said the Thing in a gurgled voice, "We're exactly alike. Or are you going to try and say you didn't enjoy avenging your friend?"
The Thing grabbed the broomstick and jammed the broken end into its own eye socket. Ian let go of the stick and backed away in terror. Karla ran into the janitor's closet, almost tripping over Trevor's remains, and grabbed another broom.
"W-What?" stuttered Ian as the Thing shoved the broomstick all the way through its head, a sick popping noise was heard as it pushed through the back of the Thing's skull.
"There is one thing that makes us different though," explained the Thing as it threw the stick away, "I CAN'T DIE!"
"Is this for real?" thought Ian, "He can't die?"
The man laughed and tore off his shirt, revealing signs of recent surgery. A putrid smell started flowing from the rough, ragged scars in his chest.
"The guy was right! I feel GREAT!" yelled the man as he flexed his muscles, "THIS IS AMAZING!"
Ian started backing away, Karla grabbed his arm.
"Let's run away!" said Karla, but Ian was fixated on the man, "C'mon!"
The man's stitched chest started to burst, the sound of skin ripping and fluids splattering filled their ears. A black, wriggling tendril sprouted from the hole in the man's chest.
The tendril slashed at the air, a bone like blade became apparent from its surface. Karla ran down the hall screaming, while Ian stood, staring at the black tendril. The man laughed and three more tendrils grew from his sides and back. Ian started crying silently and picked up the broom Karla had held, breaking off the brush and leaving a wooden point. The man yelled and his lower half disappeared in an explosion of black fluid and intestines. In place of his legs and waist was a mouth like structure covered in teeth and dripping saliva. Small, pink tentacles sprouted from inside the mouth and waved around very quickly. The man was still laughing when his broken face started falling apart, his face melted away and a gray, hairless form replaced it. The man's eyes were glowing green and his ears were long and pointed. Ian brought the stick in front of himself and took a fighting stance. The man finally stopped laughing and looked at Ian, the man shook his head.
"Look at me boy!" said the man, "Look upon your death!"
Ian remained in the fighting stance, and took a step towards the man.
"Aren't you scared kid?" asked the man, "I'LL KILL YOU!"
Ian brought the point of the stick back, and jammed it into the man's tendril leg. The man slapped Ian with the tendril leg, sending him flying into the wall. Ian got up, and took the fighting stance again.
"JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING KID?" screamed the man, "RUN AWAY, BREAK DOWN, DO SOMETHING! WHY AREN'T YOU SCARED?"
Ian shook his head, "You killed my precious friend. Now I'm going to kill you."
Ian jumped through the air, landing with his feet on the man's chest, gripping his shoulder with his free hand for support, and drove the stick into his ribcage. The man coughed up blood.
"You…how did you?" stuttered the man, "I'm supposed to be immortal!"
Ian pulled the stick from the man's chest and drove it through his head, first through the bottom of his jaw, and then through the top of his skull.
"Nothing is immortal." Said Ian as blood spurted onto his face, "Especially not scum like you."
The man started to close his eyes, slowly. Then he sprang back to life, opening his mouth wide to reveal sharp serrated teeth, and threw Ian off of himself. Ian landed in a heap; a snap characterized his cut arm. The man roared, lifting his arm into the air life some kind of tribal warrior. Ian got up again, clutching his arm, and stared at the man.
"Gotcha!" yelled the man with hysterical laughter, "You really thought you'd killed me? Such a noble, dramatic speech all for you do. Now die like the worm you are."
The man closed in on Ian, and picked him up while restraining his arms. The man opened his mouth; his jaw detached, and placed Ian's head inside. Then a loud sound broke the silence and Ian felt himself fall again, landing painfully on his broken arm. He looked up at the man and saw the gaping hole in his chest, black blood oozing from the horrendous wound. Another bang and the top of the man's head was gone, his tongue hanging down from a twitching lower jaw. Still another bang and the man fell over as one of his tendril legs was blown in two.
The man flopped around and convulsed, his own black blood pooling around him and splashing into the air with each of his movements. A shadowy figure stood over the body of the man, a huge gun stretched out at least a foot in front of the figure, pointed down at the man.
"Hey kid," said the Figure, "You should take cover or something, the shockwave from this will hurt if you stay here."
Ian nodded in awe at the Figure, and dived into the janitor's closet, pushing Trevor's body out of the doorway so he could close it. The Figure nodded at the door and looked down at the Man, whose head was slowly reforming.
"Looks like you caused a lot of trouble here, Ritchie." Said the Figure as he leaned down to examine the Man, "What've they done to you?"
The Man, Ritchie, spoke in broken words, his mouth still reforming. "ey ade me…trong!"
"They made you strong?" translated the Figure, "Apparently not if you can scarcely survive a few bullets."
Ritchie shot one of his tendrils out and into the Figure, piercing his ribcage with a sickening crunch of bones and a splatter of blood. The Figure took a step back before placing the muzzle of his gun on Ritchie's tendril and shooting it in half; the part inside him became limp, sliding out and onto the floor with a splat. Ritchie's head fully reformed, "I'm not being killed by the likes of you, Traitor!"
Traitor's wound healed up in just a few seconds, and he stepped forward again to face Ritchie's mangled body.
Ritchie's tendril legs fully reformed and he started running away with surprising speed. Ian jumped out in front of Ritchie and swung at him with a mop, but the monster didn't take any notice. Traitor sprinted down the hallway with inhuman quickness, all while firing at Ritchie with his gun. Ian caught a strange sight on Traitor in the moment he ran past him. While Traitor fired the huge handgun, no kickback was visible, and there was a lack of the natural blink reaction in Traitor's red eyes after each shot. Just as Traitor passed Ian, the aforementioned shockwaves from the gun caught up and pushed Ian back, creating an unnatural wind that stung Ian and forced him to shield his face with his forearms.
"What crazy power!" Thought Ian as his skin started to blister and crack away, "These guys are unreal!"
Further down the hallway, Ritchie's body fully regenerated and he threw his arm back towards Traitor, a hole opened in his palm and black fluid shot out like a fire hose. Traitor bowed his head to dodge, still keeping his ridiculous speed up, and reached into his jacket pocket for another clip for his gun. Ritchie took note of that and redirected the pressurized fluid at Traitor's jacket, melting the rest of his ammunition. Traitor put the gun back into its hidden holster and ran even faster, his arms forced to drag in the air behind him from the speed. Ritchie's eyes narrowed on Traitor and he leveled his palm with the floor in front of Traitor, intending to stop his movements. The black fluid hit the wooden floor and immediately ate into it, smoke rose from the melted and smoldering floor boards. Traitor turned slightly and ran on the wall, avoiding the caustic fluid and closing the gap between him and Ritchie by few yards.
"Quit following me, you imbecile!" yelled Ritchie in a gurgled voice as he threw his smaller waist tendrils at Traitor in a barrage of razor sharp death.
Traitor kept up his pace, dodging the attacks one after the other with only a simple movement of his neck and head, "You should give up, Ritchie." Said Traitor calmly, "I might show mercy if you do."
"DON'T FUCK WITH ME, TRAITOR!" Screamed Ritchie as he stopped altogether and lifted his undercarriage's mouth up to face the still oncoming Traitor, who was unable to stop as the small, pink tentacles wrapped around his arms and pulled him into the gaping, four part mouth of numerous and serrated teeth.
Traitor pulled a hidden magazine from his belt and slammed it into his pistol. The slide clicked back into firing position and Traitor shoved the barrel down Ritchie's undercarriage mouth, firing straight into the monster's inner organs. Bullets shot into one end of Ritchie and exited out the top of his head or his shoulders. Ritchie screamed and fell into a heap, his tentacles sliding off Traitor's arms and his face twitching.
"Well that settles that." Muttered Traitor as he holstered his gun, behind him, Ian walked into the open from the doorway he was hiding in.
"Y-you're amazing!" said Ian as he walked closer to Traitor, "Who are you?"
"You don't need to know anything about me, you just happened to be here and I just happened to save your life." Said Traitor coldly, "Don't think I came here to save you, I came here to kill Ritchie. Goodbye."
With that, Traitor disappeared in a flash of black mist and left Ian alone in the hallway. Footsteps behind him made Ian turn around and scream, throwing his arm over his face in a defensive reaction.
"It's just me!" cooed Karla, "Is it over?"
Ian looked at the steaming heap of flesh and viscous green-brown puss in front of him. Part of Ritchie's corpse melted into the floor boards, making the ground under his feet feel sticky.
"I think so…" Replied Ian with some nervousness, "But we should get out of here and call the cops anyway."
Karla pulled out her cell phone, "I've got a signal again. I wonder why I didn't have one befo-"
She broke down crying as an image of Trevor's lacerated form burned into her mind like a subconscious branding iron.
"What're we gonna do now?" she bawled, "Trevor's dead! He's dead! Dead! Dead!"
She started chanting it, and it stuck in Ian's mind. He kept hearing it over and over again: "Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead…"
Ian muttered, the chant replaying like a song in his mind, "Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead…"
Then it hit him: Why aren't I dead?
Ian's body shook and went numb and he crumpled into a pile at Karla's feet.
"WHY AREN'T I DEAD!" He screamed at the ceiling like a madman, "WHY AREN'T I DEAD!"
"You're alive." Came a voice from the back of Ian's mind, "Isn't that the meaning of life? Not dying?"
Ian bawled like a child, "What's the point of living when I couldn't even save one friend?"
"The point? Well there's no real point to life. I'm no philosopher you know!" lectured the voice, "But I do know one thing that could help give your existence more meaning."
"What is it!" yelled Ian
"Ian?" asked Karla in a worried voice, "Are you okay?"
"Tell me!" demanded Ian with a snarl
"Revenge." Said the voice in a happy tone, "Revenge is the result of a death, and the purpose to a new life."
