Damnation:
Ashes Remain
"And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him." -Revelations 6:2-8
"Only a fool would underestimate a man with nothing to lose."― Lance Conrad, The Price of Nobility
His hands were shaking.
Trembling.
The fingernails, crusty with dried blood, were cracked and jagged. The hand he held out before him trembled...until he curled it into a fist. There was a quiet strength found in the symbol of power that remained.
Rage shivered.
It lingered.
Although the bodies that littered the small house were long dead.
In a pool of blood, in a spill of broken wood, the first was on its belly. It was impossible to know if it had been male or female - there wasn't enough left of the face to tell.
The second lay half curled over the bathtub, hunched against the chipped and peeling porcelain. The curtain was half torn from the wall where it had fallen - blown back and way by a heavy round to the chest. The neck was brutally twisted, deformed, and resting on the opposite shoulder. The sightless eyes of the fallen stared at the far wall, mired in a spill of brain matter and blood. The skull was bashed in, offering a view of cerebral edema and crumpled bone.
The hallway collected the remnants of the last. The head was shoved through the rotting, sagging, shattered drywall; the sheetrock having fallen in a dusting of white and chunks around the filthy flannel shirt had worn. This one wasn't long dead - it was still twitching in the aftershocks of death. The head had caved in upon itself like a broken egg.
His fingers lowered, they strummed a few chords on the flawless guitar in his filthy lap. The engraving at the strap told the story of the strength of its purpose: Excalibur - the sword of heroes. A trickle of blood spilled down the side of his face, a smooth red line of survival. The music filled the quiet cool air, poignant, haunting and heralding his victory over his enemies.
Through the Valley* filled the silent house - punctuated by the call of a bird somewhere in the waiting wilderness.
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
And I'll fear no evil because I'm blind to it all
And my mind and my gun they comfort me
Because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come
He strummed, almost lazily now, eyes closed and feeling it. The cigarette between his lips was taken away to flick the ashes on the floor.
He heard the footsteps as they moved through the house.
Beside him, on the bed, his gun waited beside the bloodied comrade of a ball-peen hammer.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell on this earth forevermore
Still I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul
But I can't walk on the path of the right because I'm wrong
The sound of approach filled his ears. The song continued, undaunted, as his courage was. He was trembling...but he was no longer afraid.
The doorway darkened. But it wasn't an enemy.
Not this time...not yet.
Not today.
Well I came upon a man at the top of a hill
Called himself the savior of the human race
Said he come to save the world from destruction and pain
But I said how can you save the world from itself
The chords of music spilled around them, a cocoon of homage to the fallen.
A song of survival. A symphony of revenge.
A dare to those who'd come against him.
'Cause I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
And I'll fear no evil 'cause I'm blind
And I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul
But I know when I die my soul is damned
His eyes opened. The filthy window beside him was cracked and crumbling. It was blackened from gunpowder and splattered in blood.
The house was ripe with death.
But his determination was born anew. Arisen.
As he was, to seek his vengeance.
He spoke, low and trembling with rage. As his hand had. As his soul did, at the promise of redemption.
Into his ear, the soft voice wondered, "...what have you done? What have you done?" The horror was thick enough to walk on. He was numb to it. The rage was finite and flourishing.
"...I'm going to kill every last one of them."
They shared a long silence. The condemning voice in his ear. The filthy man on the bed, clutching his sword of justice - his instrument of revenge. Excalibur.
The soft voice intoned, "...hurry. You're running out of daylight."
"I have what I need. More than. But them? They're dead where they stand."
The final chords of the song filled the quiet house. A bond for them. A chorus of their vengeance.
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
And I'll fear no evil because I'm blind to it all
And my mind and my gun they comfort me
Because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come
A/N:
*Through the Valley is the song Ellie is playing in the Last of Us trailer. Feel familiar? It is. It's a modified version of a former prologue. A while back, I started an AU version of RE mixed with TLOU. I got bored and let that drop, but this scene? It immediately jumped back at me when I started this new one. I'm thinking this guy feels like about ten chapters, maybe less if I get where I want fast enough.
What we need to know here? Hell Hath No Fury. If you want the love child of John Wick and Taken mixed with bioterror and betrayal? This is your cup of tea right here.