Dark Room-One shot

The lights were off on the main floor of the house and I heard, as if in a dream-distantly yet all too real-the creak of old door wood sliding along a sandy floor and cracking open. Even though I'd dead bolted and locked it in 5 different places along its edges.

I knew which door it was, how could I ever forget even if I could ever leave this place? And, even worse, I also knew what would come out. It would…after all, it was no longer the 'he' that he'd known, and loved. Just an it. An abomination. An absolutely horrible occurrence.

Even though the walking dead, the zombie problem had been taken care of years ago, there was a reason I refused to ever sell this house.

'I could always run away from this.'

What a lie. If I ever did that, I would never be able to say I had morals ever again. That thought should never have even crossed my mind in the first place, so it was discarded before I'd even registered it had come through my mind. It wasn't right. This was my battle to fight, just as it had been since I realized it would be needed. And that I was the only one who ever could do it.

After all, even should better protection systems, maybe locking it in a concrete bunker or something could be possible again as technology recovered…would I actually be able to condemn him-no, it-to such a fate of eternal solitude in a make shift prison…even if it wasn't aware of what was happening around it. I'd still care for hi-it.

And, most of all, it was my duty, just like it had always been since I first killed my husband for the second time and placed him-it- down there knowing that the process would likely continue indefinitely.

After that first time, that horrible night where he had tried to kill me on our wedding night-the First Night of the zombie apocalypse, and I'd fought back though surprised and confused and won, I realized the memories would stick with me forever.

I didn't know that it literally would be forever though.

It's been over 200 years, and like all nations when their economy goes to a stop but doesn't die out completely, I still look the same age I did before this mess started-not a day over 20 years old.

Maybe there is a bit of my husband still in there, the man I fell in love with and courted for several decades, it was a pittance of time for us nations, after all if you're confused about the length. There didn't seem like there would be any rush.

First Night unfortunately, came out of nowhere, and sucked his soul under, and keeps it there. Most of the time.

I don't understand this all beyond that I cannot leave my house for more than a day before I am pulled back here, but maybe because of his-it's-situation, maybe my husband understands what's happening and is in there trying to warn me of things, because sometimes he talks to me.

Nothing that I need to know is ever said, but there are two legible and rather rational words he says to me almost every day when I finish defeating him in his crazed state, forever mindlessly trying to attack and kill me-"Thank you."

So, maybe there is a bit of him still in there, and maybe that's why I don't desperately search for a permanent lasting solution to keep him locked up where his still present Nation strength won't let him easily bust out.

Maybe, despite his state, I still desperately long for him.

Two posts in one day right after an absence of over 5 months plus a new story yesterday as well?

Now you guys know that I'm trying to apologize *awkward flailing*

HUGS and WUVS lovelies~

Please please please review, it really makes my day :)

North of the North