FALLEN ANGEL ➵ DARYL DIXON [1] ✓

6: The Rodent

6

"Dwight!"

I hear Sherry calling me as I open the front door. I'm just back from work. I walk into the kitchen as that's where she was calling from. Sherry is over by the sink, her back turned washing her pink and black cup. When she feels my presence, she turns around. Her face is sour and her eyebrows are frowning.

This can't be good.

"Who's Laura?"

Shit.

"...No one, honey," I say, walking forward, giving her my sad eyes.

"Really?" Sherry spits, throwing her cup into the sink behind her, making the cup smash into three pieces. I flinch.

"Sherry..." I trail off.

"NO!" She shouts, raising her pointing finger at me. "We've been married for SEVEN years now! And this is how you treat me? I mean..." She shrugs. "Do you love me?"

My stomach twists. How could she even think that? "Of course I do," I say, wrapping both of my arms around her waist, bringing her in. Sherry's lips tremble and the next thing I know, the side of my face stings and heats up.

Sherry slapped me.

She pushes on my shoulders hard, breaking the grip I had on her. "How could you," Sherry snarls in my face, her back straight.

I sigh, a spark of guilt igniting everywhere. I try to hide it, but Sherry sees through me like I'm transparent.

"Explain," she demands, waiting on me. I have no choice. I don't want to lie to her. I hate that.

I gulp. "I...uh...was drunk..." That's the truth.

"Drunk?" Sherry questions. "Drunk?!"

I close my eyes, knowing I promised her. I failed.

"You promised me," she says slowly, looking into my blue eyes. "You promised me..."

"I'm sorry-"

"NO!" She bellows, making my heart weak.

"Please, Sherry-"

"NO!" She bellows again, leaning on the table beside her.

"If I could take it back I would. You know I would. It was a mistake. I swear."

"Did you have sex with Laura." The way she says Laura makes it sound like she's not allowed to say it. A forbidden word.

"No."

"Really?"

"Really. I only made out with her. Nothing else."

Sherry mockingly laughs, throwing back her head, her long brown hair covering her eyes. "So that makes it okay, does it? 'I only made out with her.' Oh! So it's only. Great! We can just move on then, yeah? Not only did you cheat on me, you broke a promise that ment alot to me! Get out of my sight..."

"Sherry-"

"GO!"

I tilt my head down so I'm looking at the floor. "You know I would," I whisper, repeating my past words. I leave the kitchen, trailing my feet sluggishly across the floor.

"You're pathetic," Sherry daunts as I make my way upstairs, pretending I didn't hear her. I'm in chains, trying to escape what I've done to Sherry. Even I can't believe what I did. Once I have drink in me, it's like I'm a completely different person. A person who you don't want to be around. A person who would betray the people he cared about. A person who would cheat on the woman he loved more than life...

I kick open the bedroom door, a picture of me and Sherry falling off its hook and smashing to the ground, glass scattering throughout the bedroom. I pick up the picture and slide it out of its frame so I'm holding it in my hands. It's my favorite picture of us. And now it's broken.

I acknowledge the picture more closely. I've got my arm around Sherry as she's smiling at me. Her beautiful smile takes up her entire face. I'm looking back at her. But I'm not smiling. Instead, I'm in awe of her and I'm just staring back. My eyes are narrow but my feelings are huge. This is why I really like this picture... It shows me that there was a time in our lives that was perfect. It shows me that our love for each other is strong. It shows me that... I'm deeply in love with her.

What have I done?

A tear accidentally slips, falling down and soaking the picture I have in my hands. I cover my mouth with my hand, sobbing quietly to myself, closing my eyes hard.

The world is in silence.

Screams.

Sherry...

Sherry is screaming from downstairs; a scream you would only hear in the deepest darkest pit of hell. She's in trouble. And I have to go to her.

I shove the picture in my pocket, and as fast as lightening, I bolt out the bedroom, rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen.

What I see is absolutely horrific. A monster is banging our kitchen window with its two hands, growling with its teeth showing. The monster looks like a human. But it's not.. This thing looks gruesome and bloody thirsty. Sherry is holding a knife, shaking with fear. When she sees me, she runs over, hiding behind me.

The banging becomes more loud as more of them things come near our backdoor. There must be at least half a dozen. They try to break in, thumping and screeching at the top of their lungs.

"We have to go! Now!" I yell to Sherry who is still behind me with the knife.

I have a plan. Let's just hope it works.

Welcome to the apocalypse.