The Dead and the Restless (Completed with undergoing editing)

Chapter Three (Edited)

I walked up the stairs with the images still stuck in my head, the memories breaking the barriers I had tried so hard to build. My machete struggled to stay steady in my hands as my vision blurred due to the tears that clouded my eyes. I could feel myself starting to shatter as the lump in my throat got harder to contain. All I could manage to think was how much I did not want to remember.

I didn't want to remember how I used to babysit my little brother when mom and dad went out on their date nights. I didn't want to remember my brother's laugh and his obsession with Batman. I didn't want to remember explaining to him that mom and dad were gone and we had to survive on our own. I didn't want to remember the blood, my god all the blood that poured from his tiny neck as a snapper ripped his throat in half. I didn't want to remember the feeling from not being able to save him. I didn't want to remember how it was all my fault. No, I didn't want to remember any of it.

As I forced myself to run faster up the stairs to try and get rid of my memories, my foot slipped causing me to fall forward and smack onto the landing of the stairs. Just as I made impact, I felt everything inside hit me again. I tried to take a deep breath, but I ended up going through another round of body-racking sobbing attacks.

I should be past this. I thought I had the memory of my brother blocked enough so that I wouldn't cry every time I thought about him and the time before, and that I could pretend to be strong for Craig so that he wouldn't look at me like I was a wounded animal. I thought that everything was OK enough. Now, it was coming back at the worst time possible. I was breaking apart again.

I took a gulp and wiped my eyes. My face was covered in blood, tears, and sweat. I stared at the blood soaked tiles on the ground and wrapped an arm around my torso, trying to hold myself together. I couldn't let myself fall apart now. When it was over, I could cry. When it was over, I could do whatever I needed to do. But now I would pick myself up because Craig needed me and I couldn't afford to waste time drowning in my own misery. I had to bury my feelings and face them later. I had to hide my demons, and hide them so well that I myself wouldn't be able to find them until Craig was safe.

Pushing my palm onto the tiles, I made myself get up and continued up the stairs, not looking back. I had fallen on the third floor, so it only took moments to reach the fifth floor reached the fifth floor. Before me was a black door with floor five written in big, white letters that looked to be faded under all the bloodied hand prints. Nonetheless, I wrapped my fingers around the handle and pulled.

As I opened the door a stench worse than I'd ever experienced burned my nostrils. It was so horrible that I didn't even feel the bubbling feeling in my chest as bile erupted from my throat, causing me to double over and vomit. Once I finished retching all over the floor, I brought the back of my hand to brush my mouth as I stumbled a few steps back. My eyes watering from the fumes and I took a few seconds to recuperate. Once I was decent, I fixed my handkerchief on my face and braved through the stench.

My eyes did their best to find the end of the hall, but even with the dimly lit lights, it was too dark. Dead snappers were piled up one on top of another on the sides of the walls, most of them wrapped neatly in linens or encased in body bags. Dark blood stained the tiles and walls, and various body parts were strewn all over. As I moved cautiously forward a loud crack sounded out. I had stepped on a broken off finger.

Despite the limbs laying around, this looked way too organized, too elaborate. Someone had definitely piled these bodies and wrapped them up, but the question wasn't who, but when? It was possible that this could have been done in the earlier days of an outbreak, but someone very well could have tried to clean up recently.

No. I can't think about this now. Whoever did this was probably dead. Plus, I doubt anyone did this recently, the stench was enough to kill and turn someone.