Zombie Apocolypse Prompt
By: Midnight E Siren
~Part 1~
The cabin was made of greying wood, it was old but solidly built with simple wooden furniture and handwoven rugs. Heavy locks were on any and all the doors, telling that this was a hunting cabin at some point, there had been a safe of weapons on the second floor but little ammo for them. It was mid afternoon, the sun was high and warm and the wind blew gently, rustling the trees and long grass. But this quiet little world was tarnished with unseen blood. Atem no longer felt anything when he added yet another body to his count, he couldn't trust any of them, they'd all try and kill them both. Maybe it was wrong, but Atem didn't care, as long as his light was safe, as long as he still lived on with him. As he dragged the body across the floorboards it left a bright red stain, he'd have to wash the floor again before it set into the wood. With a flick of his wrist he undid the locks on the basement door, removing the large wooden blockade settled across the door and pulling it open wide enough for him to slip through.
The body thumped loudly against the stairs and he heard the rattle of chains below in the dank basement, heard the quiet uneven breaths. When he reached the concrete floor he hefted the body up and tossed it a few feet into the corner, turning away when he heard the feral snarl and heading up the stairs away from his dirty secret. He closed and locked the door behind him, trying to block out the wet and crunching noises drifting up from below. Tried to block out the image of the sweet, pale face of his lover covered with blood, violet eyes lost and glazed as if they could no longer see. Sharp pains stabbed at the inside of his chest, whatever caused that pain had shattered long ago and could not be fixed, Atem steeled his nerves again.
He straightened up, slid the wooden plank across the door and strode across the room. As he went he found the shot gun in his hand, loaded it and carried it at his hip. It stayed with him as he took the metal bucket and filled it with water, took the bleach out from under the kitchen sink and dumped a few capfuls into the water with some soap. Quietly he picked up the bucket from the edge of the counter and set it down next to the bloodstains, pulling out the scrub brush and starting his work upon the bright red mark. Soon the water turned pink and the red stain was almost gone, just a bit more and it'd be clean. A call from outside made him stop moving, his tiredly slid up towards the window where he saw a young man and woman running up to the house.
They spotted him, and waved excitedly, the woman's face beaming along with the young man's as they hurried to the cabin. Atem sighed, picking up the shotgun and grabbing a chair from the kitchen table. He pulled it along the floor, spinning it to face the front door and removing the locks as well. Resting heavily into the chair Atem double checked that the shotgun was loaded and flicked off the safety, raising the barrel at the door and waited.
The door swung open, and smiles turned to horror as Atem squeezed the trigger tight, they never had a chance. Bodies fell, the man was still alive, he screamed in pain as Atem had only caught him in the chest. Not like the woman, most of her face was gone now, and slowly Atem stood. Screaming, the man tried to crawl away but Atem easily caught up to him and leveled the muzzle again, pulled the trigger, the shot rang out and then silence settled over the cabin again. He dragged the two off the porch and into the basement as he did the one before, hopefully there wouldn't be anymore. Hopefully, they would just leave them alone in peace but Atem knew there would be more, there had to be more or his light would die.
After the door was barred again Atem turned and sighed at the new mess he'd have to clean up, he grabbed the bucket and started outside on the porch. The red came up easily enough, he hadn't let these ones bleed as much as the others, knives were messy but it seemed that the his shotgun did the trick. When he'd acquired a glock he thought it would be better, but it required a precise aim, the shotgun was better for close quarters. When the stain was gone from the porch Atem slid back inside, working on the floorboards there and then dumping out the water. A long wail sent shivers down his spine, he eyes slid over to the barred door as he heard it again.
Slowly, like his limbs had a mind of their own, he strode over to the door resting his cheek against cool wood as the wails continued. It was so sad, like a wounded animal, like a lost pup calling out to its mother. Atem's bloodied fingers found the cool metal of the lock and paused there, eyes sliding closed as he sagged against the wood. He was tired, exhausted, the nightmares plagued him, and the shards of his heart stabbed at him constantly, there was no rest for the wicked. From the basement, the wail called to him again, but no matter how much he wanted he could not face his sins.
"Forgive me Aibou..."