Fight for your life

„I will go back to my old life."

His face changed from fury to – what? pity? compassion? remorse? Then his look became steel.

„You can't. You destroyed it."

I was surprised how much it hurt when he shoved the wooden stake into my chest. And I wondered about the experience to live through that. Hell, wasn't it enough already? Now I was killed the second time and it still didn't catch.

He took me into a fireman's grip, careful not to dislodge the damned stake, then laid me down on a gurney in the deserted top floor, where the biohazard stuff is kept. Ironic, that I should die here in the hospital that I had committed so many hours to. I knew he would kill me. Three time's the charm.

I tried to keep alert, but it was hard. I was still extremely hungry, and it messed with my concentration. But now that I was incapacitated, my mind took over from the almost drunken rage within. It was almost like a respite. Maybe now I could sleep.

I heard him talk to a woman. They argued. He pulled a sheet over my face.

I suddenly knew where he was heading with me. If I could, I would have struggled. Part of me still wanted to live, damn it. I wanted to wake up in the morning, have breakfast, read the paper, drive to work, go home, tend to the garden, love my wife… wait.

She was dead.

I killed her.

I was in no way prepared for the flash of pain that ran through my no longer beating heart when I remembered that I killed my wife in a senseless rage of hunger. And then the dull pain at the recognition that I never could be trusted with patients again, that I wasn't safe.

He was right. I destroyed it. There was no other way. I was totally out of control.

In his place, I would have done the same.

I heard his voice when he told her no. I knew when he shoved me into the incinerator with clumsy, angry movements. He would probably beat himself up about this.

I almost wished I could comfort him.

I anticipated pain, but I welcomed it.

Because I so wanted this to end.

Preferably now.

And then it did just that.