Ben and Anya
Edgar was already looking pale. He now had a ghostly complexion to match his icy touch. Edgar could no longer walk, speak or hear well. His wife, Dorothy, held on to his hand the entire time. The infection was passing through his body like wildfire. Wreaking havoc in the blood stream. It caused a blue color to highlight is enlarged veins and made his skin appear bruised. Edgar had always been a stubborn man, especially in his old age, but now he was obedient to his fretful wife. He knew his time had come. There was no cure, no doctors. No help. The world has claimed its victim. The world has fallen, its inhabitants just hadn't realized it yet. It was too late.
Ben paced the hall outside his fathers room, waiting for some kind of miracle to just fall from the sky. He had already cursed God and asked for forgiveness. He asked for a trade and for mercy. To no avail. God has abandoned him and everyone else to horrible, gruesome fate.
Anya sat in the chair outside on the porch, rocking gently. Her mind paced in a million sperate directions. She already felt alone in the world before this, now the world was proving her right. Her family either abandoned her or died off long before. She had no friends, having just moved to the city. She was alone. She could stick with Ben and his family, but how long would that last? She was uncertain of the outcomes. Edgar lay dying in the house and Ben is pacing uncontrollably just inside the house. She was an outsider. Spectator. How could she help them. Her knowledge is mostly babies and post-natal care.
Anya was pulled from her inner thoughts when Dorothy started panicking. Edgar had passed and now turned. He was a horror straight out of the books. His face distorted, breath knarly and now his voice turned hoarse with low guttural moans.
Dorothy jumped back out from under the now towering over them. Blood pooled from his mouth where he had fresh flesh. He had successfully taken a bite from his wife. Even death could not part them. Ben rushed his father, knocking him onto the bed. He grabbed the lamp and smashed it repeatedly, against his fathers skull. Blood spewing between the know broken lamp and Edgars wound. Ben kept hitting him. His father lay there, unmoving and non-responsive.
"Ben!" hollered Anya, "that's enough. He's gone. You can stop" she moved to him and grabbed the lamp from his tightened fist. Ben looked back and began crying. He went to his trembling mother and held her while they both wept for what seemed like hours. Anya covered Edgar with the blanket and said a prayer over him, " Dear Lord, we pray that you watch over this poor lost soul and help him into your gates. We will remember his name always, The Angel Edgar. In your name Lord. Amen." She turned and followed the others out, closing the door behind her.
"Ben, I can't end up like that. I don't want that. Promise me, you'll take care of it before it gets that far," begged Dorothy. She was wiping the tears from her swollen eyes and trying to hide her fear as best she could. "Promise me, please?" Ben could only nod and look away. She was asking too much from him. He is losing both his parents to something that shouldn't be possible. It angered him.
Ben walked to stables out back after setting his mother at the table with Anya. He punch the stable door until his knuckles bled. He wondered how this was possible. Why? Who was responsible for this? He wanted to find them and make them pay. A life for a life. He wanted revenge in the worst way. He grabbed the towel from the hook and wiped the blood away, he didn't even feel the pain. He knew it was shock. It was going to hurt like hell, when it wore off. He didn't care. His heart hurt enough for it all. He cursed God one more time. Just to make sure he got the message. He turned back to the house and saw that Anya was watching from the window. He slowly made his way back in. Looked his mother in the eye and smiled for her comfort. He didn't want her to feel fear before she died. He decided that he was going to make her feel comfortably and safe. As safe as he could.
YOU ARE READING
THE DAY THE WORLD FELL
خيال علميThe world has a new story to tell. Life after the feared apocalypse. It wasn't nukes, it wasn't war. It was a virus. A virus that made monsters. Monsters that hunt the living. We call them the undead.