Broken
Chapter 1: Red Sea
30 days after the initial infection
Red, a sea of red, a primal searing sea. Somewhere in the distance a light shone through like a beacon. Leading onwards, up and up until a there above the water line, above the crashing waves of red, it sat in all its glory.
A howling wind pierced consciousness like a trepanning drill, keeping any mind from focusing. It screamed like the damned would claw for release. The agony of the screams was endless, like the purity of the sea, it was limitless.
There where the light shone, a young woman, floating above the crashing red waves. Her eyes were closed and head down as though she were ashamed of her nakedness. Her black hair rolled down the back of her neck and spilled onto her shoulders, her skin was naked, supple and begging. The arches of her body were inviting and eager. The smell was intoxicating of young warm skin a comfort in the swelling tormented sea.
Her arms raised, and her head lifted up and her lips curled into a smile. Thin red lines began to appear over her body as though thousands of invisible knives danced through the air cutting her exposed flesh. Her faced convulsed and writhed in exquisite agony as the cuts began widening and seeping forth the blood. Blood trickled down her body following the curves of her body trickling off the ends of her extended arms and feet. She moaned in pleasure and her body yearned for the pleasure to be sated.
The volume of the moans increased until her cries of pleasure matched the pitch of the crying winds. Louder and louder it became with the cacophony of pleasure and pain around it. Then she opened her eyes, red.
James awoke with a start, sitting up in bed. His chest working to draw more air into his lungs. His heart thumping in his chest just waiting to explode like a ticking bomb. He lay back slowly onto the bed sheets his body gleamed with sweat and the sheets stuck to his naked body like honey.
His head hit the damp pillow and he stared up at the ceiling a strip of sunlight sat there announcing to the room that it was morning. Outside London sat empty and still of any morning commotion. The sunlight crept in through the small slit of the window to the bed's right.
The window was covered with planks of wood delicately placed and screwed securely into the wall. Between the glass of the window and the wood was some old yellow loft insulation, around the small slit in the wood evidence of this yellow insulation could be seen as it crept around the edges of the wood trying to sneak out. The slit was used simply to look down onto the street and keep the occupier safe, but the insulation could be moved to keep light from getting in and out. James often left it open to see out at all times, but made sure no light was on in the bedroom.
The bedroom was sparsely decorated, the wall were painted white and painting hung over the bed, a print of a Van Gogh. Next to the bed on the left hand side sat a small table. A digital clock sat there along with an now unused mobile phone, a wallet and a set of keys. The room was carpeted with a think cream carpet well kept and very clean.
James lay still for the next coming minute as his breath regulated itself. He looked down at his naked form and saw his crotch was a mess, he'd ejaculated all over himself in his dream. His crotch glowed with a warmth one can only achieve through sexual gratification. He drew a sharp breath and exhaled deeply. Raising his hand he wiped his own brow clean of the sweat.
He sat up trying to keep his legs apart. He got out of bed and walked to the bedroom door slowly. Opening the door he revealed the clean landing with it's natural oak flooring. He paced into the bathroom and leaned into the very modern shower and hit the water. His body was drenched instantly in cool water. It trickled down his muscular body and drenched the sweat away that clung to his body. He began scrub himself making sure his body was cleaned of last night impurities.
James was a doctor, he used to work as private doctor. That was before the outbreak, working for wealthy patients was how he kept his nice house in Chiswick. He lived alone and always had since he left for university. He didn't care for the company of others for any extend period of time, but had always remained very charming and was very good and faking the dislike he had of others. Soon after he'd realized what was happening James had boarded up his nice house. Trying to hide himself from the world, from the infected. He'd set up a generator in his basement which he'd had noise insulated not long after he bought the house originally. It wasn't hard to keep it stocked with petrol now that no one else could bother him. Thankfully the water still worked in his house, so he was never thirsty.
James had everything going for him before the outbreak, he was good looking, kept himself fit and was incredibly intelligent. There wasn't much he didn't know about anything. However since the outbreak he'd never been happier. For now he could hunt in peace.
James was a psychopath
