Simon feels the dagger handles in his hand carefully, cold, steely eyes - even for an undead - scanning every single one of them. Would this have been his weapon of choice? When would Amy find out? Would this even work? He conjured up as many questions as he could in order to avoid one that he couldn't face.
What would Kieran think?
He thought about the Undead Prophet, and suddenly the image of Kieran was muffled. He opened his eyes with a newfound determination and he picked a blade, the most uncomplicated one, the most elegant one and he slid it into the pocket of his blazer.
He walked out of the room purposefully, thinking only about the importance of his duty, his responsibility and what this would mean in the grand scheme of things. Too many had died for this cause already, what was one more?
"Simon," Zoe started.
"Yeah?" Simon prompted nonchalantly.
"When the dead rise today, what will they be like?" She asked with a innocence in her voice and genuine curiosity in her eyes.
Simon reminded himself that this was what - no, who - he was doing this for, his own kind. He kept this close to his heart and he suddenly decided that he was doing the moral thing. He took a step closer to Zoe.
"The second rising will be," He stopped as he didn't know. He didn't know what would happen, or if it would even happen. But he did remember what the Undead Prophet had said, what the Bible had said. The dead shall rise; incorruptible. And we shall be changed.
"Well they're gonna change things. They're going to put an end to the suffering and persecution. After the second rising, we ain't gonna be treated like that anymore." He wasn't sure what he said after the first sentence was accurate, but it's what the Undead Prophet said.
"Can we help you do it?" Zoe asked.
Even when it came to killing, Simon couldn't bear to let anyone else do it. In a strange, unfathomable way, he wanted Kieran's last seconds to be with him, no matter that he was the one to be forcing those last seconds on Kieran.
"I gotta do this alone."
"Well, what should we do?" She asked once more.
"Prepare." Simon said. He often said things so vague that people could not fault him or it or prove him wrong. It was one of the conversion techniques he used. So he left the bungalow to walk to Kieran's house, leaving a group of dumbfounded Partially Deceased Syndrome sufferers to figure out what he meant.
If his heart worked, it would have been beating out of his chest. But just because he didn't have a beating heart to prove it doesn't mean he was any less nervous. His eyebrows were buried in a deep furrow and his lips were pressed tightly. He thought of only the way he would do it. He turned and with a heavy heart he looked up to the street.
It was Gary's truck.
His face filled with surprise as this was completely unprecedented. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, figuring out his best course of action. He thought first about whether he could take on Gary, whether he could beat someone whose job description was basically killing the Undead. He decided that at least, if he couldn't kill Gary, he wouldn't have to kill Kieran. He thought about what if he could kill Gary. Then at least he'd be balanced morally right? The killing of an evil to match in renown the killing of an innocent? He'd still have to kill his boyfriend, but at least he could live with himself a little bit better.
He thought that maybe Gary's presence wasn't so bad after all.
He continued, taking long strides, pulling the knife out of his blazer and clutching the handle tightly. He quietly slipped into the open door that Gary had not closed. He could hear the sounds of the two upstairs.
"You know he's planning an attack don't ya?" Gary said forcefully.
There was a slight pause.
"No," Kieran admitted.
"He fucking is. Today." Gary replied.
He told himself he could no longer stop to think about this. He'd been thinking enough. With his mind blank and weapon ready, he went up the stairs.
"I'm gonna ask you for the last time. Where's the Irish rotter?" Gary said as he glared menacingly into Kieran's eyes.
"I'm here." Simon announced with the hand holding the dagger behind his back. He stormed towards Gary and Gary turned to him, eyes bewildered and scared. The second Gary had turned to face him, Simon sank the blade deep into Gary's heart, pulling it out straight after.
"What the fuck?" Kieran demanded, his hands still tied behind his back.
Simon turned to Kieran, who obviously thought that he was not in danger of Simon, unlike Gary. But Kieran hadn't yet seen the cold fire that had made Simon's eyes its home. Kieran hadn't yet seen the dagger still firmly in Simon's right hand. He hadn't yet realised that he was next. That is, until he saw the dagger swiftly coming straight for his head. And suddenly, there was nothing for Kieran to realise anymore.
Simon pulled the dagger out and dropped it. For the first time since he knew he had to kill Kieran, he allowed himself to feel it. And it hurt a lot.
He dropped to his knees and looked around, waiting for the tears that would not come. His vision was crystal clear and there would be nothing to obscure it. He looked up to face what he'd done and he wished... he wished... He wished that it'd had been him to die, so he wouldn't be able to bear it. He buried his face in his hands on Kieran's bed, two people dead lying around him.
"I love you."