๑『CorRUPted』๑

【Chapter Eighteen: Innocence and Instinct】

【Chapter Eighteen: Innocence and Instinct】

Blood. 

Hate. 

Adrenaline.

And an insane laughter that wouldn’t stop ringing through my ears.

I wasn’t aware of much else but those three things in the next few days that had passed on after I’d murdered those dogs. That was the last collection of memory I had, and even then it was murky and questionable. Most of the time, I knew I worked on pure instinct, animalistic and uncontrolled. I knew I’d killed people I passed by in the Ruined Cities. I knew that bodies probably littered the ground where I walked, and I knew that I wasn’t going to stop until someone stopped me themselves. 

At some point, I became aware of the fact that I was no longer wearing my dress and was somewhere near being naked. I broke into one of the nearest houses, finding a small shabby family inside. They were innocent. My mind had made me aware of that, but something inside me had stopped caring. It was innocence and instinct, and the latter was winning over. 

I slaughtered them like pigs, leaving the kids for last as they watched me spear there parents with their own kitchen utensils. One of them, a little girl about the age of five, kept screaming and screaming, and part of me felt so pitying towards her, but the majority of my mind just wanted her to shut the hell up. I bashed her head in with a chair, laughing as I did it. So funny, her expression when the first blow landed. And then the next. And the next. 

When I finished with her, I tossed the bloody chair to the side and looked over to where her little brother sat on the floor. He’d stayed so silent, so obedient the whole time I’d been here. Poor, poor, boy. Poor, innocent, boy. But I was innocent too, when Mommy died. I was innocent, and they took her away from me. I wish they’d killed me too. Just like I was gonna do to this boy. Technically, I was giving him mercy; from this life, from the pain. 

“Hey boy,” I found myself saying, dragging my feet as I made my way to his corner. “I’m sorry your mommy and daddy are gone. I had too, because they saw me. You too. No one can see me and live right now. I’m on the run, you see? And if the people chasing me find you… well, they’ll do worse. They’re monsters.” I’m a monster. I really was. I saw the blood and small scratches lacing all around my arms, patterns that made no sense mixed in with the blood of my victims. I was the monster. The full embodiment of the word. “Do you want to be tortured by them? Or do you want to die? Because in honest, it’s better to die a quick death than live a slow torturing life.” 

I should know. Of course, I should know. That’s my life. It’s always been my life. I’m so messed up. So twisted and weird, and a monster. How didn’t I notice this before? Because I thought I was perfection. But now I was finally realizing, all that bull about my perfection, my purity, was exactly that. Bullshit. 

I was deemed unworthy. 

My perfection was corrupted.

I found the truth about the two negatives that creates purity.

I ran from the world I used to know and into a new alien one where everything was anything but pure.

In the end, I killed the kid by knocking him out and forcing some bleach down his throat. I felt bad for him, felt actual pity but, once again I blocked it out. No one felt pity for me, and I wasn’t about to become a walking pity party. “Goodnight, you poor, innocent thing,” I’d whispered, two fingers against his pulse, feeling it race and then slow to a dead nothing within minutes. After they were all done and I finally had time to think, I changed into some clothes of the mother. Ate some of their canned food. Rested my body up in  one of their rooms, curling up with a bloody body in stiff sheets that hadn’t seen a washing machine in about two hundred years.