That night, I dremt about the best thing ever: I was home.
The apartment was spotless and untouched, no sign of any monsters running through it or any visible clue that they had even been there. Standing in my small bedroom, I looked around the room at all of the horror posters I had, the movies stacked up, and the games scattered.
(Yep, sad right? I was such a horror fanatic, yet surviving through this was already hell)
Inhaling sharply, I smiled at the memories and dreams I had to put on hold for my mum. I had to help support this family, even if it was just me and her. Dad took nearly everything when he left, leaving us with only enough money to rent an apartment for a few months. Ever since then, half the money I made went towards it, the other half towards living. Still, I managed to squirrel money away for the next best game, or the newest horror movie. Needless to say, I enjoyed the life I was living...
Taking a few steps around to look at my movies and games, I exited the room, glancing into my mother's.
"Mum?" I called into it, getting no reply. Frowning, I continued down the short, narrow hallway towards the living room and kitchen area. "Mum? You home?" I tried again, a little louder. I heard a faint noise at the end of the hall and blinked. It had to be her! Quickening my pace, I proceeded forward, pausing at a figure that was seated on the couch.
"Mum! There you are!" I shouted in relief, only to get an echoing cry in return. Furrowing my brows in confusion, I drew closer still, the cries still running. "Mum...? You okay...? Why are you crying?..." My voice trailed off when I caught a glimpse of her from the side, her hair knotted and grey, twisting down her boney, equally grey body. Instead of hands, large claws cupped her crying face and they began to lower, a growl arising from her throat. Red eyes glowered in my direction and the angry noise growing louder and louder.
"Mum...?" I questioned, backing up against the breakfast bar, watching her get to her feet. Finally, a shriek split through the air and she threw herself forward, slashing the large claws upward in my direction. Startled, I fell backwards against the ground and she hovered over me, panting heavily before raising her arms once more. "NO!"
"No!" I sat up in a direct, ninety degree angel and stared into the darkness, my body shivering slightly.
It was just a bad dream...thank Gods.
Slowly, I rested my back to the floor once more and focused my eyes on the small, dim light that glowed from the lantern atop the metal table. My eyes were watering with sudden tears when I actually began to think about the situation I was in...
I was on a floor in a small room with people...people I had never met in my entire life! And there were these zombie things on the OUTSIDE! I hadn't realized how frightened I truly felt until now, and to make matters worse...I was with people. I fucking hated people! Curling my knees to my chest a little, I yawned lightly and closed my eyes gently, trying to get back to sleep. My hopes were completely shattered when a large hand shook me violently, forcing my eyes to open once more.
"You're taking watch." The voice demanded. Blinking a few times to adjust my vision, I noticed it was...Francis, was it? Yeah...that was right (I think).
"But I already did..." I began lightly in rather sleepy tone, assuming he had forgotten and would move on to somebody else. Nope, there he stood.
"I don't give a flying fuck. It's your turn again." He narrowed his eyes and jabbed his thumb back towards the metal table-that was probably where everybody sat to keep watch. Frowning, I got to my feet and stepped silently over to the table, having removed my heels before hitting the hay. Francis didn't hesitate to get comfortable and begin to fall asleep...he must have been tired. I honestly don't blame him, though and pulled the covered knife from its hiding spot and began to unwrap it. Setting the rag aside, I tucked some hair behind my ear and stared at my dim self in the faint reflection.
Who was I staring at, though?
I was staring at a girl who dressed up daily to do a job that she hated in order to make ends-meat for a mother who ignored her, but loved her none-the-less. And now, here she was, sitting on a table in a small, dark room, staring at her reflection in a knife and contemplating life.
But ya know what? I hated the girl I was staring at. I hated everything that she freaking stood for (GOTTA RISE UP). Honetly, who was I trying to impress? Certainly not these people (TESTIFY), that was for sure! And there was so much they didn't know about me, so much that I both wanted to share and didn't want them to know (BURN HIS HOUSE DOWN!). But why would I want to share with THESE people (YEAH, TAKE THE LEMONS...)
Oh, wait. I was trying to impress them, actually.
Er...scratch everything that just happened...sighing, I looked back at the reflection and waved to myself, forcing a smile in order to make myself feel a little better. Lighting tapping the bare heels of my feet to the table, I looked everybody over before getting to my feet and moving over to the other small table and picking up the holster and (while struggling) attached it to my belt, slipping one of the pistols into it. I don't know how much good a gun would do me, but better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it...Seated beside the pistol was a flashlight, so I snatched that up too and tucked it into the holster with the pistol (even though it WAS a tight fit).
Gingerly, I pushed open the metal door, biting my lip the entire time, glancing behind me to make sure nobody was awake or stirring. Heaving a sigh of relief, I stepped outside and shut the heavy door behind me, staying vigilant of what was going on. The worst thing that could possibly happen was I would get attacked and killed...no pressure.
Exhaling in a semi-panicked motion, I slipped the flashlight back out and flicked it on, scanning the small yet elevated area that sat above the broken subway. Gripping the knife in my dominant right hand, I crouched down and slid carefully off of the large slab, touching down onto another smaller piece of concrete. Concentrating my focus on not falling, I continued down at a slow pace until I finally touched the ground softly. Heaving a sigh of relief, I twiched my head a little and carried forward, stalking down the small set of stairs quietly, keeping an eye out for any of those weirdo zombies. Just to my luck, I didn't see any...but I didn't dare get cocky yet because knowing me, something would happen the moment I tried to celebrate. Instead, I bit my tongue and rushed down the frozen escalator, glancing over my shoulder in a lingering paranoia, afraid I was going to get caught by one of the other Survivors than I was a zombie. If they saw me sneaking out, they'd probably think I was up to no good which would result in BLAM BLAM no more Soapy.
Shuddering, I slowed my pace and moved the beam of light around the small area...probably where you use to get tickets or something. With the knife down at my side, I walked over to one of the booths and jumped over the small obstacle, jiggling the doorknob before finally managing to open the sticky door. Stumbling a little, I stepped inside and began looking through anything I could, trying to find something useful.
Again...my luck: nothing. Sighing, I turned back around and nearly died.
No, really...there was a zombie right there.
It stared at me for a moment with hungry, dead eyes, standing perfectly still as if it were just an image. I took a small step backwards and it shifted before letting out a disembodied noise and making an attempt to grab at me. Releasing a shrill scream, I ducked away and jumped up on the desk, trying to shoo it with my foot. The creature threw its hands at my leg and dug its nails across my skin, ripping my stockings in the process and drawing a decent amount of blood. My eyes widened and I jumped backwards, falling through the thin glass window, landing against the pavement with my back and rolling with force onto my knees. Looking down at my leg, I pressed my hand to it, recoiling quickly due to the stinging pain and focused back up at the monster. It fell limply through the opened window and got back up without a thought, dead set on getting me. Snatching up the flashlight once again, my hand remained glued to my bladed weapon as I backed away once more.
"Listen...you don't HAVE to try to kill me...! Look, we can be friends...! Wouldn't you like that? A friend?" It lunged at me with a growl and I ducked away once more. "Okay. Not the friendly type, huh?" I tried to make the best out of what was currently happening, even though now wasn't the time...
I watched the mutated looking male lurk forward as I pressed backwards, trying not to show fear...maybe it sensed fear? The zombie jerked forward again and I emitted a high-piched squeak, hurrying out of its line of 'fire', creating my distance barrier once again.
And then the idea dawned on me...
My eyes looked down at the pistol in my holster...no, not ready. Then I brought them back up to the knife and furrowed my brows. Why run from this thing when I could kill it? I always had a huge sadistic sence to my person (hellooo, obsession with serial killers!) so killing couldn't be THAT hard...I've always wanted to kill somebody before...I mean, sure I plotted murders in my head and had brutal killing scenes take place there...but who hasn't...!
Yet...this moment felt different then those times because I was in danger...and I always told myself I'd be able to kill someone if my life depended on it...but I didn't want to kill this man. I wanted to do everything besides kill him, and I had a mental arguement as I evaded the attacks of this zombie.
People were designed to kill, right? Its in our blood, isn't it? Still, the little sanity I managed to hold onto begged me not to kill him, while the rest of me plotted and contemplated, wishing to do so and thinking up ways to do it...a stab to the throat...maybe one to the brain, right through the skull! Or maybe a stab right to the heart...
Don't you dare! My sane self scolded, practically in tears. This, of course, brought tears to my own face as the man barreled forward once more. Through my misted eyes, I turned to the right in an attempt to get away, but managed to trip over my own feet (ha ha ha very funny) and smack into the ground. The flashlight slid away from my body and the knife skidded slightly leaving me to taste blood in my mouth. Coking my head to glimpse over my shoulder at the man, he began forward once more, leaving me to take action quickly or die.
Of course, I was going to take action: scurrying over to the knife, I lifted it up and stared for a minute before the groan emitted from the zombies throat, warning me that it was growing closer. Waiting a mere few seconds, I squeezed my eyes shut and turned, slashing in a horizontal motion, feeling blood splatter across my face and shirt. Opening my eyes, I observed the gash I made from the mans left thigh up to his right hip...but that didn't stop him. He froze for a moment before snapping his head back up, his cold eyes meeting my frightened ones a second time. Pulling myself to my feet through great struggle, he raced forward again, but I was prepared this time. Keeping a hold on the ground with my feet, I dragged the blade across the air-again in a horizontal pattern-right across the man's neck. Turning my head and closing my eyes tightly, I could feel the warm blood hit the side of my face and run down my neck, the red liquid staining my white blouse.
Waiting for a long, silent moment, I finally pulled my lids opened and blinked, returning my attention to the now dead zombie that lay against the floor, motionless and limp. To be honest...I was in shock. I can't believe I just did that...! But then again, my life was on the line...
Swallowing harshly, I snatched the flickering flashlight from the ground and sped back up the still elevator stairs, stumbling a few times. Skidding to a hault, I bit down on the end of the flashlight and tucked the bloody knife away, climbing back up the fallen slabs of concrete to return to the safehouse. Pulling myself to a kneeling position in front of the door, I rose to my feet and lightly began to pull it open, working slowly and quietly, making sure I was creating only enough room for me to slip in through. Ceasing my actions, I hushly slipped inside and began to pull the door shut behind me, watching the other Survivors for hints if they were to awake. My eyes were still set on them as I finished pulling the metal door shut as it had been previously, and I crawled back up on the metal table and flipped the flashlight off, setting it in my lap. Placing the knife on the table beside me, I curled my knees to my chest and watched the door, wide awake with anticipation for the dawning day.
I killed a zombie...I killed a zombie!
Maybe it was the surge of adrenaline that shot through me at the mere thought of finally being able to murder somebody, or maybe it was my way of coping with the fact I did an evil thing and murdered somebody.
Still, I felt like I accomplished something...something big.
And I couldn't wait to show the others I could do it again.
Trololol think of this as a filler!
...My writing hasn't been 'on the ball' what do you want from meeee?
orz
-Miss Soapy