Find the podcast episodes here: 667 Children of the Beast: Issue #4 Part 1 "Good vs. Evil" 667 Children of the Beast: Issue #4 Part 2 "Good vs. Evil" (Pardon any font inconsistencies. These files were formatted for paper printing and had fancy fonts in certain places, like for scene breaks and at the top of chapters so, if there is a random symbol or letter floating around, that's why. I can't get Scribd to populate those fancy ass fonts.)
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Find the podcast episode here: 667 Children of the Beast: Issue #3 "Transformation" (Pardon any font inconsistencies. These files were formatted for paper printing and had fancy fonts in certain places, like for scene breaks and at the top of chapters so, if there is a random symbol or letter floating around, that's why. I can't get Scribd to populate those fancy ass fonts.) Find the podcast episode here: 667 Children of the Beast: Issue #2 Part 1 "Activation" 667 Children of the Beast: Issue #2 Part 2 "Activation" (Pardon any font inconsistencies. These files were formatted for paper printing and had fancy fonts in certain places, like for scene breaks and at the top of chapters so, if there is a random symbol or letter floating around, that's why. I can't get Scribd to populate those fancy ass fonts.) I actually slept a bit, something I hadn’t done much of in the recent months. I didn’t tell Griffin, but I had begun to have nightmares off and on after regaining my humanity, though they had gotten worse recently. I assumed it had to do with the fact that I remembered all the horrendous and despicable things I had done while being zombiefied, but I couldn’t tell as I had a hard time remembering them.
“Good morning, Calli. How’d you sleep?” Griffin found me lying under a tree near the communal tent, staring up at the sky. “Fine. I slept a little.” I sat up as he came over and took a seat next to me. “I figured you’d might be hungry,” He handed me something wrapped in brown paper, “It’s deer, but it’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll try and save what I can from the hunts.” I unwrapped it to find brain-matter that looked similar to human, but I could tell by the smell that it wasn’t. “Thank you.” I was really grateful as I tried to politely tear pieces of the raw meat from the package and discreetly eat it so as not to disgust Griffin. “I’ve decided, if it’s ok with you, to have you bunk in my room with Lonnie and Sam. I’m sure you aren’t keen to talk to too many people at the moment, and that will keep you out of the limelight so to speak. You may be sleeping on the floor, but at least you’ll be safe.” Griffin was fiddling with a blade of grass as he spoke. I stole a glance at him and really took everything in about him, at least physically. He was at least a head and a half taller than me, broad shouldered and thick waisted with strong arms and long legs. He had this curly ebony hair peppered with silver to match the stubble on his face that covered his ruddy complexion. Very distinguished in appearance, just like you’d think a scientist would be. I was curious how old he was… “Forgive me if it’s rude to ask, but how old are you?” I blurted. “Ha, the silver is aging me isn’t it? I didn’t have all of this when the apocalypse started. Stress and all.” He chuckled, “I’m thirty-eight. Would it be rude of me to ask your age?” “Nope. I’m thirty-five, I think. I’m pretty sure I was thirty when this started. My memory is a little fuzzy on some details; I think my brain is still trying to make up for its three year betrayal.” I always made jokes when I was uncomfortable. “We can work on that, memory recall that is. I think you may hold a lot of information that could be very beneficial to humanity’s survival.” Griffin tossed the blade of grass out into the yard and snagged another. I’m glad I could be beneficial; maybe that’s why he was being so nice to me. I was going to be his guinea pig to save humanity. “That sounded apathetic of me. You’re important whether or not you hold the secrets to this infection or not.” It was like he was reading my mind. I felt myself blush and I wondered what that looked like with my ashen complexion. “So, you said you worked for a fashion magazine before? Not to sound judgmental, but you don’t seem like the type of person to work for a fashion magazine.” Griffin started getting personal again. “You don’t think I have fashion sense? I’ll have you know that this outfit is vintage, thank you very much.” I feigned offense. “No, you most definitely have the post-apocalyptic look down, but you said that it wasn’t what you really wanted to be doing. What did you want to do?” He scooted a bit closer to me in the grass. “I wanted to be an astrophysicist originally, but I’m not smart enough for that. I was actually trying to make enough money to put me through college to become an Astronomer. I have a thing for outer space.” I felt stupid saying it. I’m sure that was even farther from what he expected me to say. “I can see that with a name like Callisto. Callisto and Ganymede were always my favorite moons.” Griffin nudged me with his elbow. “Jupiter always had the best moon names.” I knew I was blushing again. He was staring at me now, and I instantly felt self-conscious. “What?” I asked him. “I was just wondering if you had any idea how you look.” Griffin was blunt. “Yeah, ugly.” I laughed, “But seriously, I haven’t really seen my reflection in a long time. I know I don’t look living and I’m not sure how I’m passing as such.” “You’re hardly ugly. Different, but far from ugly. You kind of remind me of a dark elf with the skin and eyes. Sorry—my geek is showing apparently.” It was Griffin’s turn to blush. “Hey, I played D&D too so that’s a compliment.” I smiled genuinely at him. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d be willing to let me take a blood sample from you. We were able to gather some lab equipment a few months ago and I’ve been dying to use it.” Griffin seemed excited as he asked me. “I don’t know how much you’ll get, but sure.” I shrugged. “Perfect. Want to go knock that out now and then we can go help put the barn back together?” Griffin shoved off the ground and stood before offering me his hand. “Sure. I did sort of help make that mess.” And this time I actually took it. (*) “I may have to leave the tourniquet on longer than I’d like to get a good vein since yours seem kind of flat. Are you dehydrated at all? Do you even need to drink water?” Griffin was getting a needle ready to draw my blood and grilling me with more questions. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink anything besides blood when I was actively feeding, but now it’s only occasionally that I get thirsty.” I sat there with my arm outstretched, the skin turning a weird shade of bluish-grey with the pressure being applied. “You may want to drink more, just in case. Has anything changed since you regained your sentience? Was the initial comeback gradual or spontaneous? I’m sorry I am asking you so many questions, I’m just trying to figure out what might have happened within your biology to somewhat reverse the initial infection and virus and if there is a possibility to make you entirely human again.” Griffin tapped my arm, looking for a good vein. “As far as the comeback, I never really thought about it. I guess it was spontaneous because I don’t remember things coming back in pieces, it was just all at once. It was like my brain was bad and someone gave me a transplant and there I was.” I flinched a little as Griffin tightened the tourniquet. “Tell me about it. What were you doing? What did it feel like?” Griffin tapped my arm again and deemed that it was ready to have blood drawn. “Honestly, I was feeding. I was elbows deep in a kill, blood all over my face, a mouth full of entrails because the brain was already gone and I was still hungry. It was like my focus shifted, like my vision had been blurred and the only senses within my body were smell and hunger and then they weren’t. I could feel the blood all over me, pricking my skin with this sticky sensation. I gagged, spitting out the entrails that were in my mouth and then I started screaming. It was like I all of a sudden realized what I was doing and I was mortified.” I didn’t want to think back that far, but maybe it was necessary. “You were unaware and then all of a sudden it hit you?” Griffin looked up at me right as he pushed the needle into my flesh. I nodded. “So it wasn’t sporadic, it just happened all at once. That’s interesting.” Griffin began writing everything down as my blood filled the rubber line; it looked like chocolate syrup. “That was the day I gave up murder for Lent.” I joked again. “You have a morbid sense of humor. Is that your way of coping?” There went Griffin with the head-shrinking. “I suppose. Isn’t that how truly depressed people cope?” I returned smartly. “You’re depressed? That’s good.” He nodded, writing more down on his pad. “That’s a good thing?” I made a face at him. “I think it is in this case. That means that you have feelings and emotions and it adds to your sentience. You can feel that you’re not happy, you have compassion for others unlike yourself, you cried yesterday. Bet you haven’t done that in a long time.” Griffin was right. “I haven’t.” I responded quietly. “I wonder if there is anyone else out there like you.” Griffin mused as he removed the needle from my arm and bandaged me up. “If there is, I haven’t met them. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen many fresh turns lately.” Now my mind was working like his. “I’ve noticed that too. I go out a lot on runs for food and to find other living individuals and I have actually run into a few of the same zombies over a period of weeks and took note at their rate of decay. They seem like they are decomposing faster than normal, like they aren’t able to feed as often. Like I said, eventually they will just wither away, but feeding does prolong the decomposition. I’m assuming it has to do with less survivors on the road, but it could be that the infection doesn’t have the same effect it once did.” Griffin took my blood and popped it into a centrifuge. “Or it’s mutating. I wonder if those hosts have served their purpose and the virus is looking for stronger ones, like the guy we encountered yesterday.” I proposed an idea. I wasn’t sure how biology worked in regards to viruses and bacteria, but I was just making an assumption. “You know, that never crossed my mind. The virus is still being passed along from host to host, but if it’s evolved, it may be killing the host quicker than it used to. Some parasites are like that, sometimes their control of the host is too strong and the host dies before the parasite gets what it needs and it either dies too, or it accommodates.” Griffin tapped his lip with his pen and then scribbled that down. “And the result is a practically unkillable zombie? That’s not terrifying or anything.” The thought made me shudder. Sam was almost zombie chow yesterday and that one zombie had the potential to destroy this whole place if left unchecked. “I’m sure he’s not the only one. Did you watch how he behaved?” Griffin asked. “Yeah, he didn’t seem as mindless as the others, almost like he was calculating. A regular zombie would have just clawed at the post repeatedly until its meal came down or someone killed it, but that zombie knew to shake the support beam to the point that it brought the house down. He saw the weakness and went for it.” I had already taken note of its behavior. “Exactly. And that’s a terrible thing to have a sentient zombie with no consciences unlike yourself.” Griffin pointed his pen at me before standing, “Let’s let the blood fractionate for a bit and go help with the barn.” That sounded like a good idea as I didn’t want to consider the possibilities of smart brain-hungry zombies at the moment. (*) “This should hold it for the time being until we can find some better wood. That thing really did a number on the supports in here.” We had just finished repairing the damage to the barn and Carl was speaking to Griffin. “It did. At least Sam is safe.” Griffin brushed wet hay off his hands. “Thank God for that. How’d you manage that one, Grey?” Carl turned to me with a nickname I wasn’t sure I liked. “I’m stronger than I look.” I glanced over at the infected blood that still caked the blades on the tractor. “Yeah, but that guy was bigger than I am and I doubt you could overthrow me.” Carl cracked a joke, but there was something threatening about his words. “Want to test that?” I felt the need to challenge him. “You’re cute, Grey.” Carl tousled my dark hair and I had to fight the urge to bite his arm off. “It’s lunch time. Let’s go grab some food and take a break for a bit. We need to go out for more supplies today. I would have done that yesterday, but we had more important things to tend to.” Griffin led us out of the barn and back to the big house for a meal of MREs and cold water. “How’d you sleep last night? I know the accommodations aren’t the Hilton, but they are safe.” A woman approached us as we sat eating together with Lonnie and Sam. “Good afternoon, Trisha.” Griffin greeted her with what appeared to be false warmth. “I slept well and thank you for allowing me to stay.” I hadn’t met this woman yet, but I overheard Carl talking to Griffin about her when we were in the barn. “No thanks needed. We here at Haven welcome everyone with open arms. We are a safe space and take in anyone we can as long as they put in the effort to help maintain the farm and take care of one another.” Trisha rubbed her hand down my hair and I instantly felt my skin prickle. Something was off about her. “You going out on a supply run after lunch, Griff? We are really in need of some more canned goods and medical supplies if you can.” Trisha turned to Griffin. “You got it.” Griffin gave her the thumbs-up, but didn’t look at her as he finished his Vegetarian Taco Pasta. I sensed tension between the two of them, but who was I to insert myself into that situation. “And why don’t you take Calli here with you. She can earn her keep.” Trisha winked at me. “Are you sure? I was going to take Carl with me.” Griffin questioned her. “Take the girl and Carl with you. Safety in numbers.” Trisha winked at me again. “Sure thing.” Griffin agreed, glancing at me before Trisha walked off to talk to the next person. “You sure you want to come out on this run? You don’t have to.” Griffin seemed like he was trying to talk me out of it. “No, I’m good. You’ll be safer with me anyway.” I raised my brow at him. “Oh, will I now? I’ll have you know that I do just fine against a horde of zombies, thank you very much.” Griffin grinned at me. “I guess you’ll have to prove me wrong.” I got up to dispose of my trash and I could feel Griffin’s eyes following me as I walked away. I knew I was flirting, but I wasn’t sure if he did. It was probably better if he didn’t. “I’m going to take your vitals myself before we tell anyone, ok?” Griffin had me back in the infirmary with my jacket off and my sleeve rolled up.
I nodded, staring out the window as a group of people passed, talking to one another and laughing. Griffin took out a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around my upper arm before he began pumping. I knew that there was pressure, but my nerves didn’t allow me to feel it much. He put the stethoscope to my arm and slowly let the pressure release in the gauge as he listened. “Forty over ten; you’re practically dead.” Griffin raised a brow at me. “Told you.” I raised my eyebrows at him. He then popped a thermometer in my mouth and held the stethoscope to my chest, “Breath in. And out. In. Out. In. Out.” He instructed me as I took the deepest breaths I could. “Well, your heart is beating, but it’s so slow I don’t even know how you function. And—your body temperature is eighty-two degrees. You should be hypothermic.” Griffin took the stethoscope off and set down the thermometer. “I’m dead. Or undead, rather.” I reiterated what I had already told him. “Let me get a look at the wound in your shoulder out of curiosity.” Griffin had me take my shirt off again. “It’s like your blood instantly coagulated, but I think your lack of bleeding has to do with the fact that your heart beats slower. Blood isn’t being circulated through your body as quickly, so you don’t bleed as much when cut. This wound looks nasty though.” Griffin was commentating, but I sort of already knew this. “Yeah, because I’m rotting from the inside out.” I laughed. “But you’re not. You don’t look like the other zombies; they are physically decaying. Even though they are eating, they are still falling apart. The ones we see now probably haven’t been around this whole time. Even though their minds are active, their physical functions are not and eventually they completely decay and cease to exist. But the rate of infection has been high enough that more are being turned before the others can die out completely. You aren’t decaying at all, but you’re still clearly infected.” He re-wrapped my wound and handed me my shirt. “So, give it to me straight, doc. Will I live?” I smirked at him. “For the time being.” He smirked back. He had a nice smile to go along with those grey eyes. “Let me get a look at your eyes, ears, and mouth.” Griffin picked up another instrument and looked in my ears, then my mouth, before shining a light in my eyes. “Your eyes don’t dilate at all. Your pupils are so large I can barely make out that you have hazel eyes. More green than anything.” He commented. He could see the color of my eyes. They weren’t black, what I had seen was my enlarged pupils. “And the bloodshot thing? I look perpetually high.” I asked. “I assume that has to do with the infection. Have you always been sentient like this?” Griffin set the instrument down. “No. I was mindless for a few good years, maybe three? I didn’t even know much time had passed until I overheard some survivors talking about the year, or what they assumed to be the year. I started counting the days after that.” I explained. “Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning if you can remember.” Griffin sat down on a rolling chair in front of me. “It was January 17th, 2018 if I remember correctly. I had a shitty morning, all sorts of crap happened before I even got to work, including a woman vomiting on me at the bus stop. I knew something was wrong when a car wreck outside my office resulted in people eating each other. I tried to go home in a panic, but the whole city was losing its shit and I felt sick.” I tried to recall everything. Griffin grabbed a pen and a pad to take notes, “What were your symptoms?” “Full body sweats, fever, nausea, vomiting, headache, intense coughing. I was bleeding from the eyes too. It was like the Ebola flu.” I actually remembered how painful it was. “And then what happened?” Griffin was scribbling on the notepad. “I seized up on the street. It felt like I was having a heart attack and then… I guess I died? I blacked out, but when I woke up, I was starving and had a craving for brains. I killed my first person not too long after, though I didn’t recall any of that until my mind came back.” I hated having to admit that I killed anyone. “So, you don’t remember any of the events of being a mindless zombie until after you regained your mental faculties?” Griffin asked. “Nope. Everything hit me all at once when it did; it was awful.” I didn’t want to think about. “You’ve been sentient for what now, two years?” Another question. “Mmhm. I think that’s about right, more or less.” I was getting uncomfortable with him asking all these questions. “How do you survive now? Are you—still killing people to eat?” Griffin narrowed his eyes at me. “God, no. I scavenge or if I have to, I find an animal. I haven’t killed anyone in a very long time and I hate even having to tell you that I ever did.” I sighed. “It’s ok. I try not to remind myself that the undead that I kill were once human like myself. They can’t control the way they are and neither could you; that’s what matters. You were infected without actually being bitten or scratched, which we have never encountered. Many of us have wondered who patient zero was and how they were infected. You said a woman vomited on you that morning and you turned not long after? Maybe it was airborne initially.” Griffin continued to write. “Maybe. But what sort of airborne virus or bacteria could do this? I mean, I was never taught about anything like this in science class.” I was curious if he had an idea. “Me either and as I said, I’m a bio-chemist. It’s strange that it could go from initially being airborne to being transmitted through saliva or by a scratch. It must have mutated along the way obviously, but then there is you. Maybe you’re different because you didn’t contract the infection through bodily fluids or by a scratch.” Griffin mused out loud. “That woman must have had the virus and probably changed shortly before I did. She could have possibly been patient zero and started the whole thing!” I gestured with my hand. “No, there were cases before the date you mentioned that you turned. They were sparse, but they were all over the United States, the British Isles, China, and even in Australia. It had to start somewhere else.” Griffin shook his head. “You were following the initial infection, weren’t you?” I was picking up on something. “I was. I worked for the CDC in Atlanta. There were calls coming in about cases and it’s funny that you mentioned Ebola, because that was our initial thought, but that wasn’t the case. It looked like there was a buildup though because the infection seemed to have taken longer to run its course through the body before shutting down all vital functions. They were considered so highly contagious that the bodies were incinerated without us being able to study them. Then it blew up and we couldn’t contend with all the cases and before we knew it, there was an outbreak and people were turning. I have no idea where this started exactly, but the initial cases all came in within a period of three days and then the world essentially ended.” Griffin was staring off into the corner of the room. “It isn’t your fault, you know.” I could tell that he was feeling guilty. “I know, but I still wonder if we had been allowed to look at one of the bodies if we could have stopped this.” He glanced up at me as he spoke. “Or you would have ended up infected too and wouldn’t be here now to talk about this.” I reached out a hand to comfort him, but hesitated. “You’re right, and now there’s you. There may be something about the way the infection reacted within your blood that could help us figure out a way to end the cycle.” Griffin was now writing things down again. “Like, a cure?” Was that what he was insinuating. “Possibly. It wouldn’t do any good for those that are long gone or those that were killed by a zombie and subsequently turned, but it could help those that have been bitten or scratched and lived initially.” He was now looking at me again and I couldn’t help but have the tiniest bit of a crush on him now. Great, Calli. You’re setting yourself up for complete and total failure, but maybe this crush is just because he’s being nice to you…you were always bad about that. “Anyway, I think I’ve decided to not tell everyone about what you are for the time being until I can wrap my head around this. I want a good strong case for why you aren’t a threat and should be allowed to live. I worry that Carl’s ogre ass would try and kill you whether I wanted him to or not.” Griffin got up from the chair he was in and gestured for me to follow him, “We need to find you a place to sleep for now.” I followed him out of the infirmary and back to the big house where everyone was filing in for food. It was dark and dinner seemed to be ready. “We were wondering where you two went off to. What took so long?” Lonnie met us in the line with Sam by her side. “She has a condition called hypercoagulation so we will need to keep an eye on her, but I got her sewn up.” I gave her a thorough once over to make sure she was ok. She’ll live.” Griffin patted my arm. “I’m sure you did.” Carl chuckled behind us. “You’re funny, Carl.” Griffin glared at him and pushed me forward to stand nearer to Sam and Lonnie. “Thank you, Calli.” Sam took my hand as we waited in line. “Of course. You’re our future. Got to preserve that.” My words sounded almost heartless, but I meant it. She didn’t ask to be in this world. All she knew was the apocalypse, death, and destruction. “And I thank you too. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Sam. She’s the last piece of Amanda I have left.” Lonnie whispered to me and laid a hand on her shoulder out of understanding. We got our food and sat down to eat, chatting for a while between bites before Lonnie announced that she had to get Sam to sleep. I surprisingly made it through the soup and pretended that it was brain stew so that I didn’t choke. “Do you feel ok sleeping in the communal area for now?” Griffin asked me as he led me outside of the big house and to a large revival type tent out in the yard. “Are you asking me if I will be tempted to eat my neighbors if I have to be in close quarters with the living?” I chuckled. “Well, yes, but no. I just want to make sure you’re ok.” Griffin paused in the middle of the yard as we spoke. “I’ll be fine. I don’t sleep much anyway.” I assured him. “Is that a zombie thing?” He wondered. “No, it’s an insomniac thing. I’ve always been that way. You’d think I’d have a lot of lost time to make up for having not slept for three years, but I’m good.” I joked. “I could always make up a cot for you in my room with Lonnie and Sam if you’d feel safer.” He was trying to comfort me and it was sweet, but I wasn’t going to impose. “I’ll be fine, Griffin. I just want to settle down and force myself to get some rest.” I swore that I’d be ok. “Alright. Lonnie brought your bag in and it’s over there. There’s fresh blankets and a pillow. If you need anything else, let me know. I’m in the farmhouse, second floor, third door on the right.” Griffin led me into the tent as we spoke. “Thank you, Griffin. I really mean it. You saved me earlier and I don’t know how to rep—” Griffin cut me off with a raised hand. “Don’t mention it. You saved me first and you didn’t have to. You don’t have to repay me and you owe me nothing, But if you really want to give me something in return, you can let me study you.” Griffin seemed like he wasn’t sure if that request was offensive or not. “Sure. That seems like a reasonable request.” I nodded once. “Great. Well, have a nice evening, Calli. I’ll see you in the morning.” Griffin smiled and bowed out of the tent. There weren’t many people in there yet and I wanted to avoid conversation as much as possible, so I took myself to my little corner, covered up with the blanket and pretended like I was asleep. What a fucking day this had been. “Sit here. I’m going to go get the doctor; don’t move.” Griffin pointed at me as he left the room we were in. It was in one of the smaller out houses on the property and the perfect opportunity for me to escape while he searched for the doctor.
I grabbed a roll of gauze and some medical tape and shoved it in my pocket before checking outside to see if anyone was around. There wasn’t, but I could make out a few figures down at the gate and knew I’d have to take a different route to get out of here. We were backed up to the woods so I figured that was my best bet and I could lose anyone quickly if they tried looking for me. I booked it towards the back of the property, running so fast that the wind was whizzing past me and humming in my ears. There was a fence, but I vaulted it and was in the clear as the trees came up around me and I didn’t stop till I couldn’t hear the sounds of the farm any longer. I was safe now, which was a funny thing to say in an apocalypse scenario, but I wasn’t on the side of survival. I slowed my pace and stopped near a bunch of blackberry bushes to wrap my shoulder. Even though I didn’t bleed much, I still bled and I still took time to heal. I still wasn’t even sure how that worked because I had seen zombies get hacked at or shot, followed with a horde for weeks just for the fun of it and none of them ever “healed”, so why the hell did I? Dumb question that I didn’t have the answer for, just like I didn’t have the answer for why I was now more or less like your average human save for the strength, lack of dying, and hankering for brains. I sat down, pressing my back up against a tree as I took a deep breath. I could feel that stinging heat you get in your nostrils when you’re trying not to cry, but it was no use. I cried. It was weird because I don’t think I had cried the whole time I had been a part of the apocalypse. I got emotional a few times after I regained my mind, but never cried. It burned as the tears rolled down my face, hissing against my skin like acid. Maybe it was acid now, I didn’t know. Why did I keep doing this? Why did I keep letting myself live like this when I knew better now? It was one thing when the only thought in my head was to eat brains, but now I could think for myself again and this existence had become lonely and tiring. What did I have to live for at this point? Nice people had offered to take me in and I couldn’t be around them because they would probably try to kill me or I’d try to kill them if I got too hungry and couldn’t find brains. And out here I was just wandering out of boredom and lack of things to do, scavenging for dead bodies that still had some meat in their skulls for me to munch on. What kind of fucking life was that? But could I end this? Was I even capable or killing myself? I mean, I was capable, sure…but I couldn’t do it like a regular person. I felt it in the pocket of my jacket, the cool metal cylinder of a gun barrel. I had forgotten that Griffin had handed me one when we went to look for Sam. This was my way out. It was over. I pulled it from inside my jacket, cocked the hammer back, and stared at the gun in my hands. I had thought about this sort of thing before a long time ago, but never in this manner. But it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really did. The fun was over. I turned the barrel on myself, staring down into the darkness before I brought it closer to my face. “Calli, don’t.” I heard a voice and thought it was my conscience before I realized that my inner voice wasn’t male. I glanced over to see Griffin standing there with his rifle across his back. “Don’t come any closer.” I turned the gun on him. “What are you doing? I came back to the infirmary and you were gone.” He took a step closer, but I shook the gun at him. “You don’t understand. I can’t stay there.” I got up from the ground shakily, still aiming the firearm at him. I wouldn’t hurt him, but I had to make him believe that I would. “Try me.” He came closer still; he knew I was bluffing. “Just go. Turn around, go home, and don’t look back. Don’t worry about me.” I let the gun lower a bit. “I can’t do that. I can’t leave someone who is hurting alone in the woods where zombies could kill them.” Griffin shook his head. “Do you think that concerns me?” I waved the gun to show him that I was ready to die. “Why? Why do you want to die so badly? You could have a home at the farmhouse, why try and end your life? Did you do something that has you feeling guilty?” Griffin was trying to play crisis intervention with me. Yeah, I ate more people than I could count. “Griffin, I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t let me go. This doesn’t concern you.” I now held the gun with two hands. “It does concern me. You saved my life, Calli. You saved Lonnie’s life and Sam’s twice. I can’t let you take yours.” Griffin was mere feet from me. He wasn’t going to let me go; he wasn’t going to let me kill myself even though I was ready to die…but I couldn’t hurt him just to have the opportunity to end my life on my own terms, so I would have to do it another way. “You want to know why? Why I want to put this barrel in my mouth and pull the trigger? This is why.” I took my jacket off, my shirt came next, and then I peeled the gauze off my shoulder. “Does this look normal to you? No blood, grey skin, and this isn’t fucking allergies.” I snarled, pointing at my eyes. I was letting myself redline again. If Griffin wouldn’t let me shoot myself, I’d force him to do it for me. “I don’t understand.” Griffin spoke those words, but I could see it on his face; he got it, he just didn’t want to admit it. “I like brains, Griffin. In fact, I prefer them. That PB&J you made me tasted like dirty dishwater; no offense.” My vision was going blurry as I focused on the smell of his blood and the organ inside his head. “Are you really trying to convince me that you want to commit suicide because you’re a zombie?” Griffin looked like he wanted to laugh, but was holding it in because of the sensitive subject. “Yes! For Christ’s sake, I’m a damn zombie! Just fucking shoot me!” I dropped the gun on the ground and held my arms out. “Or what? You’ll make me?” Griffin possibly thought I was still bluffing. “Yes.” I lowered my head and glared at him from under my brow. I knew my eyes must have flashed in an inhuman way, because Griffin’s expression changed. “No.” He still defied me. “Just do it!” I stomped towards him and he drew his rifle, aiming it at me. I gripped the barrel with my hand and pressed it against the greying skin of my forehead. “Shoot me, Griffin, or you won’t live to regret it.” My breath was ragged as I spoke. “Kill me then. Do it. Eat my brains if you have to; if it will make you feel better. I don’t want to make a liar out of you.” Griffin still held the rifle, but his finger wasn’t on the trigger. “Are you fucking stupid? I just told you that I’m a zombie and you can clearly see that I’m not human anymore. SHOOT ME!” I shrieked, reaching out for the trigger myself. Griffin brought the gun down quickly, dropped it, and tackled me to the ground. I fought, him gnashing my teeth, but never trying to actually bite him. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. He was the only human to show me compassion in all this. “Stop, Calli. Just stop. Stop!” Griffin’s grip on me changed from a submission hold to a gentle embrace as I started to cry again. “Why? Why won’t you just let me die?” I sobbed, flexing my hands by my side, not wanting to return the emotion that he was giving me. “Because. You may be a zombie as you say, but clearly you don’t want to hurt anyone. If you are actually a zombie, you are unlike anything I have ever seen and you are important. Not just for the implications of what you are now, but because you are human at your very core, despite being infected.” Griffin brushed damp hair from my face as I finally let myself cling to him. There was that warmth again, that sensation of human touch, of human caring and understanding. God, it felt so good. “They won’t accept me.” I murmured, finally ceasing with the crying. “Maybe not now, but we will work on it. I’ll vouch for you and I think maybe Lonnie will too. Sam definitely. Just come back, let me check you out and then we can talk with the others.” Griffin stood, snatching the handgun and his rifle before I had a chance to go crazy again. “If they don’t, promise me something.” I put my shirt and jacket back on as I spoke. “Sure. Anything.” He reached out for my hand, but I wouldn’t take it. “Promise me that you’ll be the one to end my life. At least I could die knowing that the person who killed me actually cared.” I slipped past him and on towards the farm. I heard him draw a sharp breath behind me, but he never said anything. He never promised and it oddly made me sick. I couldn’t get attached. I didn’t do attachments. |
E.M. MoonStories from the World Wide Weird Archives
December 2021
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