Thursday, March 24, 2011

Ahhh! Real Monsters...

The girls ran out as if a fire had been lit under their shoes. I stood perfectly still, feeling partially in awe, and partially vindicated that I had been right all along!

My excitement stemmed from the fact that Patient X was my little side project. Well, the finale of my little side project. Unlike many of the other patients that had been flooding the ER, Patient X was DOA, and not because of any bite or scratch wound. As soon as I saw his chart being handed over to the hospital's mortuary staff, I knew I had found my perfect specimen. I waited three days before following up with the Patient X case. He had yet to be claimed by next-of-kin, or anyone for that matter. May be the reason he killed himself. I pulled some strings and had the body brought up for testing a week later. Recalling the beginning of experiments is almost as good as actually starting them. I felt a rush I can't quite pin-point; it's somewhere between euphoria and dread.

As the lights flickered back on, Patient X and I just stared at each other. I could see the vacancy in his eyes; but a hunger soon took over the look. I opened the door behind me without much further thought, and went into the decontamination room. Without turning on any lights, I reached for a locked box under one of the wash units and fished for the tranquilizer gun I knew was there. Why we had a tranquilizer gun in the OR’s decontamination room was beyond me. I never really questioned it, just assumed it was NYC and sometimes, no matter what the place, things got a bit crazy. As I loaded the tranquilizer into the feed, I began to observe Patient X in the OR. I squealed in excitement at the opportunity!...

He held himself and his posture in a peculiar manner, not what I would normally expect from a wounded living patient. I had removed a portion of his scalp and brain for examination, so there remained a gouged out area in his head. This should have affected the sensory and motor branches of the spinal nerves and muscles. He showed no particular attention to these strains, though. He was fucking fascinating! As he ambled in my direction, I lingered, simply watching him - so gracelessly beautiful. I was done loading the gun, and I should be tranquing him, I know, but I got an idea. Sorry, I couldn't help the need to poke and prod at him a little more. I decided to raise the gun's light attachment and aim it straight at his eyes from behind my glass defense. An animal might have become altered, spooked, or taken a defensive or aggressive posture. A human being would have at least normal pupillary function - with the pupil dilating to allow less light in. But no, not him; he was so very unique. His eyes remained fixed on me, mutual objects of interest. Well, fuckdamnit, I finally had to tranq him. I exited the decontamination room and felt his gaze follow my every move. I slowly made my way into a corner of the room, never losing direct eye contact with him. I'm not sure how, but he seemed to register that I could not back up anymore and took the oppurtunity to lunge toward me. I sidestepped, and sent the tranq straight into his chest, right before he would have made impact. I quickly wheeled in a gurney and positioned him as best I could on his back. I took a quick skin sample and scraping, as his blood was already drained. Then proceeded to do what I knew had to be done. I retrieved the bone saw off the main OR table and began to cut through the spinal column, right at the nape of his neck. I had to go, there was too much to be done. And alright, I'll admit it, it hurt a bit to leave him. He was just so interesting, so special in those few moments I observed him... my little monster.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Goodbye Cookie

One last time, we're let down today. One last time, until we fade away.....

I loved her so much. I love her still. Each day that passes makes me miss her more and drives me closer to insanity. I wait for the day that I meet my match and I can join her in the afterlife. I can't just give up my life so easily though. I promised her I would fight. I promised her I would find out who was responsible. I promised her I would make them pay!

The day that I lost her was the longest, hardest day of my life. We woke up that morning in my bed, both wondering if what we witnessed was just a terrible nightmare. However, the bandages on her back told us that that was just wishful thinking. This was real. It was the end of days. As promised, I ran into the garage and salvaged whatever was left of Joe's tools and wood. Joe was renovating the basement for about a year now, and he had plenty of useful things to work with. I spent hours trying to board up all of the windows and light leaks that could be seen from outside of the house. I didn't want to take a single chance. I'm not a carpenter, nor am I a contractor. But, I did the best I could with the materials that I had. It wasn't perfect, but I got the job done. As long as my baby was safe, I didn't care.

After my attempt at construction, I went to check on Shelah. She wasn't looking so hot. She actually looked kind of feverish. Damn, was this a bad time to get sick. I gave her some Advil and told her to get some rest. Hopefully the drugs would reduce her fever. While she slept, I cooked whatever I could put together. There was dry spinach and arugula along with some raw chicken. I threw some seasoning on the chicken and tossed it in the oven. I put it all together and made a grilled chicken caesar. That was one of our favorite, quick meals.

She was still asleep when I brought up the food. She looked so peaceful aside from being extremely pale. I couldn't help but daydream for a moment. Memories of a better time came to mind. I remembered the days we spent together in Atlantic City, when it was just the two of us. Coming back to the room, after playing poker all day, to see her waiting for a hug and a kiss from her man.
I remember the time that she went out drinking with her friends all night, while I stayed home and slept. She snuck into my house and into my room just because she wanted to be in my arms while she slept. Those were the good days, the great times, the happy life.

I felt her forehead before waking her. Her fever appeared to be gone. But, now her forehead was ice cold. I was worried so I tried to wake her up. I shook and shook until she finally opened her eyes. Her white, lifeless eyes looked right up at me and, immediately, I knew. She was gone. An empty shell of what used to be my everything, my life, my future.
I knew what had to be done but, I couldn't bring myself to just kill her and get it over with. There was so much that I needed to tell her. I had to say goodbye. I tied her to the bed and gagged her so that she couldn't bite. I spoke to whatever was left of her inside that body. And, I'll never forget my final words to her:

"Baby, I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect you. I fought as hard as I could and did my best. My best just wasn't good enough to keep u safe. I'll never forgive myself for that. I hope u can forgive me though. I wont stop fighting now. I promise I'll find the fucks who are responsible for this. I promise that they'll all pay for what happened to you and my mother.

I'm sorry that I couldn't be everything that u deserved me to be for you. I could have been a better man for you. I'm sorry for every moment I missed with you. You were always more important to me than my job, my films, and my games. I'm sorry for every time I hurt your feelings or fought with you. I never told you that you were always right, even when you were wrong. I'm sorry for every single tear that you've ever shed because of me. I wanted to take away all of your pain, not bring you more. Most of all, I'm sorry that I broke my first promise to you. A promise that we would get married and bring the two most amazing children into this world.
I promise that I'll make it all up to you in the afterlife. We can relive all of the amazing moments we shared together and create new ones. I'll be with you soon enough. Goodbye Cookie. Tell my mother that I love her when u see her in Heaven"

Sunday, March 20, 2011

I'm Bored 2/2

After putting on the big guys’ jacket, I was moving at a feverish pace throughout the streets in my area. I didn’t care where I was going or how far I was from my safe-house. All I knew was that I needed this, or more so, my mind needed this. I was stuck in that attic all the damn time and honestly I was fed up. Life seemed meaningless at this point. I had no word from any family members, I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen a friend, no television, no radio, my iPod like everything else was dead, and worst of all no women! How am I supposed to live my life as a ridiculously sexy 24 year old male when there are no women around?! It’s just not right. So I lost it and decided I was going hunting.

After about 10 minutes, I came across a real challenge. Seven zombies all with their backs turned to me. They were all walking in unison. It was kind of odd to see really. It seemed as if they had a purpose to their walk; almost like a sense of direction. If ever there was a time to test out this “smell theory”, now was the time. As quietly and as slowly as I could, I crept up to the back of the group. I was about ten feet behind them when I stepped on a tiny stick out in the street. It snapped and the group of zombies froze in place. Shit. This can’t be good. One of them turned slowly around, looked at me for a brief moment, and then turned back around. The group started walking again as if I didn’t exist. It was working! I couldn’t believe it. Somehow, the smell of death that was stuck on these clothes was covering up my own scent. My eyes lit up at the thought of being able to just walk up to these zombies and pick them apart. This was going to be glorious!

The one zombie who had stopped and turned to look at me had fallen a few paces behind the rest of the group. I guess the same rules that apply to normal people also applied to zombies; if you fall behind, you die. I crept slowly up behind this zombie, who still had his mailman uniform on, poor bastard, and jammed my knife right into the side of his head. He dropped to the floor instantly. The group just kept on walking as if nothing happened. I’m sure they heard the noise; there was no possible way they couldn’t hear what just happened. But for some reason, I guess in their “minds”, everything smelled normal so they had no reason to be alarmed. Well, I guess the smell theory seemed to be working pretty well; time to take out the rest of these damn things.

I was hardly as subtle and stealthy with the rest of the group. There were six of them left and I honestly just needed to vent some damn anger. I tucked the hunting knife into my belt and I pulled my bat out. I had it strapped neatly to my back with strip of Velcro, and it fit neatly under the oversized blood covered jacket I had on. I ran up to the next straggler of the group and swung as hard as I could at the back of his head. “How does that feel bitch?!” Probably wasn’t the smartest thing in the world to scream out, but I had clearly snapped. He dropped to the floor like a ragdoll and the other five zombies turned around. If these things could be confused, they sure as hell had that expression on their chewed up, clawed, bloody and decaying faces. If they could be scared, they would have had that look on their faces in a second as well. I charged straight into the five of them and kicked the one in the middle straight in the stomach. I’m not proud about kicking a woman in the stomach, but let’s face it if you try to eat me you’re going to get hit. She went tumbling back and literally flipped as she rolled across the floor. The two zombies on my sides grabbed my arms, but luckily this jacket was so damn big I slipped right out. I had to drop the bat to get my hand through the sleeves so now I’m in a circle of four zombies and my bat is lying on the floor. I don’t know what the hell I had gotten myself into, but I was finding it harder and harder to care.

I took my hunting knife back out and as I ducked down I stabbed a smaller zombie who was standing in front of me right in the leg. It didn’t do much but I had gotten low enough to pick my bat up again. I swung it wildly and spread the four of them off of me. The woman I kicked had gotten up and was slowly making her way towards me again. I decided no running this time; they were all going down. I ran at her and took one good swing, and knocked her head clean off her shoulders. I turned around and threw my knife at the smaller zombie I had just stabbed in the leg. I hit him right in the head and he dropped like a ton of bricks. Three left. Piece of cake. A few good swings and they were all dispatched of in a bloody pile of mangled corpses. I stood there gazing around at the seven bodies strewn about on the street. I stared at the mess I had created, and I didn’t even care. I wasn’t worried about dying. I wasn’t worried that one of these things might have gotten a lucky bite on me and ended everything. It started to rain and I knew I had to make my way back to the safe-house, because the rain was going to wash the dead smell off of me and expose me. But I wasn’t in any hurry to make it back. I slowly worked my way back to my hideout, and the only thought running through my mind was how good it felt to bash all those things over and over. A warm, soothing feeling came over me. I had just killed seven zombies in a crazy fit of rage, and I was more relaxed than I had been in months. What the hell was happening to me?

Saturday, March 19, 2011

It's Been A Long Day

Cray and I looked down the long corridor. After everything that had taken place in the last 24hours, a dark corridor was the last place we wanted to walk down. However, since it was Edie's apartment building, the hesistancy seemed to fade rather quickly. Then, as I thought about what we had just been through, my anxiety rose a little. I'm sure Cray had the same feelings as she looked at me, as if to say 'I'm waiting for you to walk first.' I took a breath and slowly started down the hall. I clutched the key Edie had given me, as I carefully listened for any sound other than our footfalls and breathing.
Finally, we made it to the end of the hall where her apartment was. I quickly inserted the key and entered, Cray right on my heels. We closed the door and as the last lock clicked into place, we finally felt safe.
The place looked as if no one had lived there for a while. Everything was perfectly untouched, serene in this quiet little loft. Cray and I were almost afraid of putting our things down because it seemed we might disturb the peace.
Cray dropped her bags and heaved a sigh of release. "Well that was an interesting day, let's get to work". We proceeded to dump our bags in her living room and head to her home office. She had given us instructions to look up and contact some people in her circle of peers, as well as grab some files she said were key to "what would happen next". Cray and I didn't question the "what would happen next." I honestly could say I didn't want to know, but I trusted Edie. If she gave us these instructions then what was coming was good, right? Just as the question popped into my brain, my cell went off. It was Edie. "Hey! We made it in... whoa, slow down... uhuh, uhuh..." Cray looked at me quizzically and mouthed 'what's wrong'. Guess my face shared the uneasy feeling that was building in my gut with every word Edie uttered. I hung up the phone and looked at her. "Change of plans. We need to grab everything you think is valuable, all the information she had wanted initially, and then we have to..." I had to pause, cause what I was about to say was ludicrous. "Have to what?" "We, umm, she said we had to burn this place down". Again, Cray shot me a very quizzical look, then simply said, "well where does she keep her matches, cause this place is huge!" On that note, we got to work.