Sanity | Ghorror [C]

Chapter 55 | It's Not Over

There are times I forget what lead to this.

I forget how I ended up with a victim.

I forget how I ended up in a dirty, abandon building.

I forget that I am a monster until I hear them screaming for help, and I realize, I'm the only they want to be saved from.

I do not forget how to cut their vocal strings out of their throat.

All my temporary amnesia, this disappeared when I was with him. Those months of running on the road, hiding out in that cabin, I remember every detail. Clearly. Vividly. I still feel his touch, and hear his sweet voice whispering promises to me. Promises, that were fucking lies. We tangled ourselves in hazes, letting our bodies meld together by the force of the stars. The lust and adrenaline was merely the backup dancers to our passion. And after all the heights my voice and body would reach, silence would surround us as he held me in his arms. Nothing but the crickets outside the window would prick the air as he said those three words.

Three words. It could be any three words, but you know exactly which three I mean, don't you? I can't blame it on society's way of whoring out that phrase as a cheap tactic to earn trust. Before there was social media, or even entertainment, there was love. Pure love. I'm sure for as long as that word has existed, there's always been someone there to abuse it. I just never thought it was going to be him.

Promises. Love. Trust. Passion. Loyalty... Lies. Manipulation. Deception. Abuse. Betrayal.

I thought my life was real. It was only a story, told to me by an actor whom played the love interest. Yet, I feel wholeness in thinking of love to describe him. He's left me hollow, but his memories exist to fuel me. His presence is still one I enjoy, even if I don't want to admit it.

"Can you shut up?!" I snapped at the causality in front of me.

The fact that she hadn't bled to death by now was a surprise to me. Her full face was turning an unnatural color from her lack of blood and fluids. She had been trapped her a few days before I found her. Well, Ryan found her, locked in a room with ten zombies trying to break the door down. She trusted him because he saved her life. He lead her to this busted up music hall and threw her at me, like he was tossing a piece of meat at a dog.

Colors had faded from these walls. The monotone shades set in well before the virus outbreak, I'm guessing. Battle Mountain, Nevada was no different than the previous towns. Barely anything resided here before the outbreak. The tallest building here would be the shortest in New York. The glass front doors of the building were all shattered. Posters were peeling down the walls, and trash littered the dusty ground. It was beginning to look like the apocalypse. Here we were, on the stage of the theater.

The girl held her breath for a moment after I yelled at her. She was big boned, and her flesh now decorated in cuts. A cheap heart necklace hung from her neck, engraved with her name, Natalie. Her family was gone. I'm sure one of the fuckers I shot down or burned today. I've got her tied down to a chair, but no gag. She's too weak to scream. Who'd hear her anyways? I ran down my energy and honestly just wanted to sit and watch someone suffer. With a smoke in my hand, I sat in a seat across from her.

When Ryan told me it'd make me feel better to torture someone, he was both right and wrong. In the moment, I enjoyed letting my mind escape. Once I sat down to think though, my head got fucked up again. I wanted Ricky; I wanted to hug him. I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to shoot him. I wanted to hear him say I love you. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself.

After moments more of hearing this girl whimper, I grabbed my gun from the ground. A moment of pause lingered as I listened to my surroundings. There was scuffling beyond the light wind. It was too proper to be a zombie. I could smell the cologne from here though. At close ranger, I shot the girl, putting a hole in half her head. Then I paid my attention to my wanted unwanted visitor. It was time I got to tell him everything I wanted to say. Without anyone else here, I had my chance.