Extreme

15. Raging And Killing

Angrily, Eva stuffed her bags with all the things she was going to need for the runaway ahead.

She grabbed out clothes from her closet and collected canned goods from the kitchen cupboards, chucking them roughly into her bag. As she stashed more inside, the bag began to appear bulky and felt heavy as she swung it over her shoulder.

She was going to kill her father.

Her eyes darted to her parent's drawers. She opened up the top drawer, seeing unorganised paper and pens laying around inside. She went through it all, hands searching her a picture of her father she then deemed to be only a stranger to her.

But the picture was further in than she had thought, with her hands instead reaching out onto an envelope. Curiously, she took it out and sat slowly on the bed, turning it over to examine for it's possible existence.

Opening it up, she pulled out a note with words written in black ink. It was her father's. Eva looked down at the note in her hands, reading her father's written words.

Dear Marcy,

I'm sorry, love. I love you dearly to the skies and back. You are beautiful, and the love of my life.

You will wake and you will not see me. But I promise you I have not left you all. Do not fear and do not assume the worst of my disappearance.

I have been struggling greatly. Why, I can not say. I only want you to be happy and feel safe within the walls around you. Currently, I'm meeting up with friends.

I await my return. In the meantime, I will be missing you. Be good and do good. Teach our daughter love and respect.

Your loving husband, Andrew.

A feeling of sadness tugged at Eva's heart as she read it. All that time, she thought her father had left with selfish beliefs. She feared he did not love her anymore or he had never loved her to begin with.

But this letter casted down the dark within her.

Yet he did not tell why, Eva wondered, causing her resentment to brew once again.

She looked at, staring down at it with hate in her narrowed eyes. After a moment, she scrunched it up in her hands and threw it away, her other hand grabbing the edge of the bed angrily.

As she got up from the bed, she headed out of the room. But as she headed out, she passed a picture of her family sitting at the desk near the door. They were all happy, but now they weren't so much anymore.

They were angry.

•◉•◉•

Just a little more to there, Dean thought to himself, aiming his rifle at a zombie from afar.

It was on the ground, tearing into the flesh of a deer with it's greedy hands. Each bite it teared, blood covered it's hands and splattered onto it's face. The deer almost looked entirely eaten up.

Before Dean was searching for the many that escaped his capture. After hours of searching for them, none in sight, he took a break from walking mindlessly all around the forest. And there, a zombie caught his attention.

"Better run there, fella," Dean said darkly in a whisper, keeping aim. "You've been caught."

The zombie took no notice of him as it continued to dig in it's meal.

With his gun aimed at just the right spot, on it's head, he pulled the trigger. The zombie's head squirt with blood as it fell over behind. As it fell, he put his hands in a fist happily.