Undead Angels

27. Hate

Louis!

The tone of the voice made Louis jump up from the bed. It was deep and demanding, terrifying Louis. He looks around, it's still early in the morning but the sun's shining strongly through the windows. Positioning himself up, he looks to his left arm. The bandages aren't bloody, but he thought he should still change them out for new ones.

The pain is still there, it'll always be there. But today wasn't as bad. Thanks to Cameron for helping him. Which reminds him, where did the lad sleep?

Louis gets up, his clothes were still dirty and the bed had sand and mud all over it. Noticing a closet in the corner, he figures him and Cameron are about the same size. He grabs a pair of jeans, a dark sweatshirt with a peculiar design, and a pair of black shoes with three white strips. Also grabbing a black pair of underwear and socks. He moves to the bathroom and sets the clothes on the sink.

As he looks at the reflection, he sees nothing but a hopeless soul and ignores it. He grabs the towel and puts it on the rack close to the shower. Slowly taking off his clothes with his one good arm, he throws them into the trash bin by the side of the toilet. He turns on the water and waits for it to get warm. He's jumping on the inside at the sight of actual running water. That's a rare thing that he hasn't seen in a good while.

As he steps in, the steam from the water invites him in. The water trickles down his skin and goosebumps form everywhere the water touches. The warmth cleansing his body. He rinses off all the dirt and wets his hair thoroughly, then proceeding to grab the soap that was in the corner and spreading it all over. Scrubbing his body, each mark, each scratch, and all over his tattoos. His greasy hair and his face that was now home to a small beard.

Once finished, he exits. Wrapping the towel around his waist. He looks through the cabinets and searches for a razor. Finding one, he begins to shave off the unappealing growth on his face.

"Fuck." He whispers as he cuts himself, the blood starts to stream down his chin in large amounts. He grabs the towel and places it on top, stopping the bloodstream.

After a few minutes, he puts on the clothes, they fit him almost perfectly. Brushing out his hair, he makes a nice fringe that sweeps to the side of his face.

As he makes his way out, he cleans the dirt from the sheets and puts on another blanket that he saw on top of the dresser. Once satisfied, he walks out of the room.

Looking around, the small house is pretty neat. The floor is swept, the books are placed firmly on the shelves, everything's in place.

Cameron's lying snuggly on the sofa, still fast asleep. Louis takes opportunity to look around on his own before Cameron does. Moving to the kitchen, he grabs himself a water from the fridge and a bag of chips that might be stale but Louis isn't complaining.

Before leaving, he grabs his gun and hides it on his belt under his shirt. He can never be too careful, especially not knowing what's truly going on around this place.

Slowly creeping out the door, he closes it behind him. He's met with a small breeze and the sound of a lot of people chattering and going about their business. People are by their houses, talking to neighbors, hanging up clothes, trading supplies. A normal community.

He steps off the porch, hands in his pocket, he starts walking around, headed towards a stand that has crops in baskets. Different fruits and vegetables all stacked up, the sight makes his head spin. His instincts immediately tell him to steal it, until a mans voice drags him back to reality.

"Would you like a basket?" He ask politely. He's an old man with a moustache that looks like a squirrel is sleeping there.

"Uh, yea. Please." Louis replies.