Once you change, there's no going back. Some people find out the hard way. |
"Like I give a damn." I said, closing his eyes as he lit a ciggarette. "Screw off." "Please! I'm sorry!" she, the one I used to love, pleaded. "I'm sorry..." "I don't care. Get the hell away from me." "You're acting cold! I thought you loved her!" Khail says, glaring daggers at me as he wrapped his arms around her for comfort. "Yeah. Loved. Past tense." I say, shrugging. "Before she decided to choose someone else. I'm not gonna be her bitch, crawling back every time she begs. Only to be shot down again." "You're going to turn into one." he says, glaring at me. "A what? A Ripper?" I ask, chuckling as he blow out a ring of smoke. "I'd welcome that with open arms. Get to kill anyone I want and eventually just get killed? Sounds like the life I'd love to live right now." "What's wrong with you?!" she cries out, grabbing my collar. She's crying, but I find myself actually not caring at all. I feel a pang of guilt in my heart, so I guess I still haven't gotten over the fact that I can't stand seeing females cry. "You're acting different! What happened to who I used to love?!" "He died, remember? Cut in half vertically through the midsection by glass doors like some cheesy ghost show if I remember correctly." I answer. Obviously referring to Antonio, not myself. The one she chose over me." "Not him! You!" "Me? Since when did you love me? I was completely unaware." I say, shrugging my shoulders. "Like it matters, since that's just your way of making yourself feel better. Don't use me for your fucking source of pity." "I'm not, I--" "SHUT UP!" I snap, before I can stop myself. She looks surprised, and even scared. Why do I feel like I enjoy that? "You had your chance! You fucked it up! Don't blame me for that!" "Hey!" Khail yells, shoving me back. In response, I launch my fist square into his nose as hard as I could. He lets out a pained cry as he falls onto the ground, holding his face as blood covers the ground. It also covers my fist. I've lost most control over my body, and lift him up, holding him by his shirt before kneeing him in the stomach, then grabbing him by his neck and slamming him into a tree. He's coughing up blood now, and my hands are stained crimson with it. I squeeze his throat, causing him to cough up even more of the red liquid, which appears to become black due to how much of it there is on my hand. I was never this strong. It’s starting. I'm already changing. "STOP!" she screams, trying to pry my hands off. She's not strong enough. Even when I was completely normal, she wouldn't have been able to pry my hands from anything. "Please! You're killing him!" I silence this by removing my hand from him long enough to snatch it away from her. He's on the ground again, but his back is to me and he seems to be unconscious. I find the will to move voluntarily for a moment and just give her a glare before running off into the forest. My eyes sting with tears. I don't want to become an Alice. I don't want to kill people for no reason. I don't want to get killed. But there's no chance to stop it. I'm done for. Should I explain while I'm still me? An Alice is what people turn into once they've given up the will to live. It’s what they automatically get as a new resolve. Physically, in appearance, nothing changes at all except that they get dirty blond hair. The initial way of treating this in cities was immediate execution of anyone with dirty blond hair who appeared to be sad. For obvious reasons, this no longer works. Instead, they've noticed. An Alice's skin has a faint white glow on it. For this reason, the power is cut off every night so they are easy to see. A male Alice, what I'm becoming, is a Ripper. They come from the old criminal, Jack the Ripper. I slow to a stop, panting heavily. I don't know where I am as a feel my hair stinging my scalp. I assuming its changing color to the trademark dirty blond. I know where I'll go though. Each Alice or Ripper is attracted to the source of their depression and loss of will. They want that person's blood first. After that, it’s anyone they just happen to see. Same goes for if they can't find the person. Through reports of them hiding, I assume that they have some type of intelligence. I feel sorry for everyone if it turns out they keep the thinking process they had when they were when they were alive. I'm the smartest living person in the town. I'll easily be able to out-think anyone. My eyes feel heavy, and my skin feels as cold as ice. This is the end, isn't it? This is the last moment I'll remember. I look at my hands and see a faint white glow to them. Between my hands is a small puddle of water. In it, I see my reflection. No, not mine. It belongs to someone else. This person is smiling like they have the world to live for. I don't have the world to live for. I never smile. This person looks like me. However, one thing is fact. I Am Dead. --------------------------------------------------------------- It’s been a week since I last saw him. But he's here. I know he's here in the town. Multiple deaths have been reported since that week. Khail is alright or at least doing better. We're hiding in a basement under his aunt's house. Since he complains so much about her then nobody will ever think that he's here. They'd think he hates her and that she would never think of sheltering him. They are family close and they would never think of each other less. Though some things she does openly bothers him. Regardless, at least for now, we're safe. I look at the newspaper again. The one that came yesterday, not this morning. In one week, there have been 3 Alice's killed. None in the pictures are him. As for victims, there are 35 in the last week. All brutally murdered. The way a Ripper would. Either torn apart at the limbs to leave them dangling, cut up in places that'd leave them mutilated, hung on hooks from the back of their throats, mutilated beyond recognition but still only enough for them to bleed out, not to kill them outright. That is the killing way of Rippers and Alices. They wish for their victim to suffer, not to just kill. I know that its him. It couldn't be anyone else. Khail is drinking quietly at the table. He hasn't been able to eat without it hurting since the incident. His throat has got to be injured. But he hasn't told me about it. He doesn't want me to worry. But I know better. I feel tears threatening to spill out again and turn so my face is buried in the couch I'm lying on. I don't want him to think I'm a bother and throw me out. I know they won't but it makes me feel better to think they will. It gives me a reason to try to be strong. It’s turning night. Tomorrow, I'll read the newspaper for today to see how many victims it has gone up to. They lights flicker, the first signs that they'll be going out. Luckily, there are no windows down here so we can light candles for light. We can stay up later than most. I pray to God that this nightmare will end soon. I pray that things will end. That I will have a backbone enough to do something worthwhile soon. But I close my eyes. I don't want to stay up tonight. I want to sleep. I want to retreat to my dreams like a coward and have peace. The sweet scent of lavender and marshmallows from the candles lull me to sleep, and I find myself out, just like the lights. I awake to the sound of voices, both sounding worried. Khail and his aunt. I stay laying and listen to them. If I show that I'm awake, they'll try to pretend that its nothing so I feel safe. "This is getting out of hand. No Alice or Ripper has lived this long before since they started showing up!" his aunt, Morganna, says in a hushed voice. "And nobody even SAW him last night! Usually, at least ONE person sees any that are around." "I know," Khail says, his tone soft and sad. "He probably found out some way to walk around without a care in the world. He's smart. Too smart." "But enough to get close enough to kill the mayor?!" she asks, panic in her voice. "Shhh, you'll wake her up!" he hisses. I try my hardest not to move. I feel like I'm about to wet myself. He killed the mayor? The mayor, who has 4 guards at each side of his bed as he sleeps. The mayor who sleeps in a canopy bed with metal as the canopy to prevent any Arial strikes. "This is insane! He'll just kill everyone in town until he finds her!" "So you want to kick her out?!" "No but we have to at least move out of city! This is more frightening than any nightmare could be! We'll die if we stay here!" "I know. We'll start packing, and hopefully we can go to uncle's house. If he'll have us that is." "Tonight, I'll go check with him. If I don't come back by tomorrow night, run to his house the morning after." "Why would you not come back?" "..... you know why..." I hear a sob escape Khail's mouth and he says a quiet "okay" in response. She then leaves, I assume to buy enough food to last us the entire time she's gone. She's caring and I truly wish that she won't die. The guards should keep her safe until she at least reaches the end of town. I doubt he's out there anymore, and she can run over any Alice or Rippers that cross her path in her truck. Still, despite this, for some reason, I'm convinced that she won't come back. I pray I'm wrong. I pray there's hope. The next day has passed, and its official. Me and Khail cry together after seeing the newspaper of the morning. An additional 20 people have been killed in just that night. Total victims since last week are 76. Alice killed are 6. Not that it matters since none of them are him. Khail's aunt is one of the 20 people killed. And it was definitely brutal. her stomach was split up as though with a razor blade, and she was placed under the hood of the car facedown. The car was revved up, and her guts, intestines and the rest of her innards became entangled in the car. I wonder though, how he did that to her when he was still in the city. It happened just around the block. One thing is certain. He must know where we are now. That's the only reason she'd be leaving town. He may not KNOW Khail's aunt but he has seen her. Its just a matter of time. We cry even as we pack up the food, water, and camp necessities to run for shelter the next morning. We're going to sleep under the stairs tonight, behind a bunch of heavy trunks that it'll take both of us to move. Though I'm not in any way capable of assisting. I guess moral support helps. Khail wants to call for one of his friends, but he doesn't want to be seen by him. If so, that may give way to a daylight attack. Something we definitely aren't prepared for. As soon as we hear the hustle and bustle of people outside in the morning, we'll move out and run to the next town. The world seems to slow down and they day goes by slowly. We eat quietly, just a simple meal of cereal. But we eat it late enough to give us enough energy to run without stopping too much. The camping stuff is just in case we happen to have to stop, like during a rainstorm or something where we won't be able to see as clearly. We SHOULD be able to make it before nightfall. In fact, it shouldn't even take an hour. We sleep closer to each other than ever, but I don't have feelings for Khail in such a way. If I did, this'd be the part where we have sex and pledge our love to each other and promise we'd make it out together. But no such thing will happen. The next morning, we look at the clock. We're tense. No chance to leave has arisen, despite the fact that its after 8. By now, the streets would be flooded with people. Going about their daily lives. Did they all get scared to the point where they no longer want to leave? Is there even enough people to cause a ruckus? This town is not big, so there are possibly not enough people to make too much noise. By 9:30, we have had it. We grab our supplies and for the first time in forever, we go upstairs. Khail went to get the newspaper yesterday but that was it. There is no newspaper through the slot like normal. Why? I am completely confused. The population of the town is 110. Or somewhere around that. I'm sure it wouldn't be difficult to find someone willing to do it for a few extra dollars. Khail turns to me, and gestures to the wall beside the door to outside from the kitchen. "Stay here." he whispers. "I'll check to see what's up." He leaves me inside as he creeps out, shutting the door behind him. I watch the clock mounted on the wall. Minutes pass. Minutes. A task that should have taken seconds, if not only a single minute, is taking MINUTES. What happened? I can't help my curiosity and peek through the mail slot. I see blood. A trail of blood leading from the middle of the walkway off to the side where the garden is. It’s too much. It couldn't have happened. I stand, holding a gun in my hand. It’s a regular pistol. I don't know what kind so don't ask. It’s simply a pistol to me. I don't know about any models or makes of guns. It’s enough for me. I open the door and creep outside. My blood runs cold and I feel like vomiting. There's nobody delivering mail. Nobody patrolling the streets. Khail isn't checking to see if the coast is clear. There is nobody at all. Nobody delivering mail because the hands of the latest mail man have been split in two down the middle, revealing the skeletal hand and cartilage that was once there that now rests on the sidewalk. Nobody patrols, though the last guard seems to have been caught unaware, as he has been reduced to nothing but a head in a helmet that sits mounted on a pike in the middle of the street. Khail isn't checking to see if it’s clear because Khail is now mounted on the cross that sits in the middle of the garden. His eyes have been gouged out of their sockets and as blood pours from the empty sockets, his now dislocated jaw which has been pulled from the rest of his skull is limp and hanging down, blood still flowing from it like a waterfall. Everyone in town is dead. Except me. And the one loan guard that stands in the middle of the street. Though it isn't a guard. Its him. I know its him. He's watching me. Just staring at me. I know that this will be my end. I stare as he takes of the helmet, revealing his face and the innocent smile he wears on his face. All Alice and Rippers have it. It somehow makes me feel even more hopeless, as I feel warm liquid trickling down my legs. He walks towards me, but stops and stares at me from the entrance to the walkway. His smile has faltered somewhat. The gun. He's noticed it. It takes me a second to remember it, but as soon as I do, I lift my hand toward him and quickly pull the trigger. The loud sound it makes nearly deafens me and I fall onto my rear, trying to force myself not to defecate as well. I look over at him and my eyes widen as I see him. He's on the ground. His eyes are not closed, but are glazed over. He has a small red dot between his eyes, and blood falling from his lips, which are now in slightly less of a smile. His hair has returned to normal color. He is again the person I truly loved. I stare, unable to come to terms with what just happened. For the second it took for his life to end, he was himself again. He was no longer a Ripper. He was the person I fell in love with, the one who held me whenever I cried, the one who always made me laugh and feel better. He was there for a second, but now he is no more. I stare. It hits me. My life means nothing. My fears have gone. But I have nothing to live for. I feel my scalp burning as tears fall from my face. I must be turning. I must be turning into an Alice. No. I refuse. I am me. Not an Alice. I smile as I raise the gun to my temple, just as I feel my lips curling into a smile. I can see my reflection in the armor he wears, though faintly. I look exactly as she did. The first Alice. But I have a gun pointed to my head. With this final resolute thought.... I pull the trigger. |