Cold-Hearted

Chapter 1

The world has not been so kind to me, though I do not feel pity for myself. Not anymore. The instinct to feel pity and sadness left me many years ago. I can recall the moment I lost the ability to smile, to laugh, without wondering what there really was to be happy about in my life.

Every glint of hope I have ever known has been ripped from me, and will continue to be ripped from me until death has its final grasp over me. I've won against death before, but eventually it is inevitable. Everything, every life, must come to it's end, some just happen to anticipate the day it happens more than others.

I have been through just about everything there is to experience, the bad heavily outweighing the good. I have carried the world upon brittle shoulders, and then some, which has caused me to view everyone as weaker than myself.

I know no one else would have been able to be successful with a life like mine, that is an experience that belongs to only me. I have forced my way through a merciless world without being granted a break. I am cruel, but I wasn't born this way.

I have an eidetic memory, almost photographic. Unfortunately, the better part of my childhood memories have been overtaken by unbridled jealousy and bitterness. The only time I can remember feeling pure, undisturbed childlike happiness has been soiled and dragged through the mud that has become who I am. What a waste of memory, to be able to remember your entire life and become exceedingly bitter about it as you grow more disturbed throughout the years, through every situation.

In simpler terms, I have simply lost the ability to give a fuck. About others, about what happens to me.

I have long since stopped hoping for the feeling of aimlessly chasing a butterfly through the eyes of my much younger self. Rolling down hills and running home with grass cuts scattered across my body. It would be useless to wish on the impossible, I had given up on miracles in grundeschule.

I would have to make it home before my father finished work. I sprinted down the sidewalks, guided by dim and unkempt streetlights in the slum of Germany. Something that seemed impossible now, as age has started to take its toll on my withering body.

Running as carelessly as I used to, inhaling chilled air, was silly to me now. I know my lungs would quickly give out on me, not as dramatically as that statement suggests, but it would certainly wind me.

My mother would so lovingly clean my microscopic wounds, careful to watch my reaction. The warmth of her skin as she pulled me impossibly close to her when my facial expressions involuntarily described what I was feeling, is something I will never let myself forget. I truly believe she is the only person I have ever loved, and the only person I will ever miss.

You see, my mother and I had two faces each. Our typical attitudes, speech patterns, reactions.. And the faces we had developed over time while facing my father.

I despise using that title for him, his style of parenting was rather militant. I do not consider him a parent, but I do loathe him for granting me a life I did not ask for. He is merely a sperm donor to me, my poor mother kissed up to him until the day she thought her final thought.

I believe in evil. I believe he is where that belief began for me, I was a scared boy. A naïve boy.
A mean boy. And I can't help but wonder if that trait was passed down to me from him. I believe I am evil, and judging from everyone's treatment towards me, I am not far off.

If only I had taken after my mother, my life would be much different. Maybe I would be empathetic, maybe I would still hold the capability to love. My poor experiences with my father are not completely to blame, although that's something I should explain later on.

This world set me up for failure, and I pushed my way through. I fought tooth and nail to be where I am now, and I have become rather successful in what I do. I pride myself on the fact that I am so much smarter than my old man could ever have the capability of being. If only my mother could see me now, I hardly believe she would be impressed with who I am as a person, but she would become jubilant after learning about my success.

I am certain many aspects of my career would cause her to turn a cold shoulder towards me, mother didn't believe in violence. The only instances I remember her being angry with me is when I would take my rage out on the unsuspecting animals in our backyard, or on my younger sister. She would grab me by the arm and whack a ruler across my wrist if she caught me, which at the time I thought was unfair, but I do believe I could use one of her scoldings now.

She was the only one who could put me in my place. My fathers scoldings only caused me to retaliate behind his back; Causing harm to living things became a hobby of mine, it seems that hasn't faltered much since it started.

Desire is a powerful thing, one even the most well established people have trouble disregarding. It does come in many forms; lust, consumer demand, curiosity, satiety, revenge. Some forms of desire are much more innocent than others, but I've found through my studies that each person has a knack for one of these, or an unlisted option, and they are not always able to fight it.

So really, I am not any different from the others if I experience desire from time to time.. No matter how sinful it can get. How ironic of a doctor to desire revenge, however that's not the only professional title I possess.

I have done many things in my life, I've worked with the German military and have quite fortuitously tried my hand at scientific research. Ive also worked with a group '935', where I physically tortured most of my patients to research how much is too much, and to push the limits of the human body.

I also found physical ways into the mind, which I took inspiration from Freud in. I spent many days referring back to one of his greatest works, The History of Psychoanalytic Movement, which comes in handy if you are being trained in.. Well, torture. Psychoanalysis is a very controversial practice; In fact, most everyone I know refers to it as a discipline rather than a practice, but I quite enjoyed it on my end, I can't say the same for my patients.

Now contrary to what one would believe after releasing this information about myself, I do not believe the Nazi party I have been sworn into is doing any good. There is no gain, only death. I denounce their use of violence entirely, I see no reason for this, nor have I ever.

But at this point in my life, that is all I am doing career wise.
Besides the zombies.

I may or may not have started the apocalypse.