So this is another story by Deviantart user RikaConnect! This was also pretty sad. No! I didn't cry THIS time!
His parents hadn’t even given him a name.
His mother died giving birth to him, and the sight of the large, hideous infant made his father squirm and want to drop him from the top of a building. But his father was far from murderous, and so he instead sold him to a mining company, lying for the rest of his days that the baby was stillborn.
From childhood up until he was an adult, he wasn’t taught much beyond how to speak and do manual labor. And every night, he was locked up in something similar to a prison. That’s how his owners wanted him and people to look at him as.
A caged work animal.
This “western” town in Africa had been here for about a decade now, bringing up materials that were all gibberish in his mind. As long as his owners wanted it, than they got it through his hard, unpaid work.
Well, it wasn’t completely unpaid. He had two forms of payment; candy and alcohol. Those were the very meals he survived on and kept him going for years.
It wasn’t until a very old colleague of his owner came to stay that he met the girl who would be the idol of his affections.
The girl was said colleague’s oldest niece, possibly her early-twenties (Her uncle was at least in his 70s at this point). The girl was what normal people called “pretty,” with her hair held back neatly and a long black dress decorated with lace that sashayed around her ankles. “No dearest, you don’t want to look at that thing…” her uncle said as they walked by the new mine shaft he was digging. “It’s an animal.”
He simply ignored this. It was common practice for people to gawk at him for a moment before looking away. But this girl kept staring until her uncle took her by the wrist and dragged her away.
That night, while he drank his daily payment of booze, the girl came by carrying an armful of strange foods he had seen the normal humans eat but never had the liberty of tasting.
“A-are you drinking alcohol?” She asked in a concerned tone. He looked at the gallon jug he was guzzling from somewhat confused.
“This booze,” he pointed at it. “No alcohol.”
“…Can I tell you a secret?” the girl asked, motioning for him to come over. Curious, he knelt down by the cell bars while she quietly whispered in his ear.
“There are actually many kinds of booze. You’re drinking beer. Over France, they drink wine. In Russia, vodka. And do you know what they have in common?”
He shook his head.
“They all have alcohol in them.”
“Alcohol?” He was curious.
“It makes you act like a loony for hours,” the girl continued. “Bad things can happen. That’s why most humans eat food like this.”
She was still holding the food in her hands. “Try this. This is an apple.”
The next half hour was spent in pure bliss for him because he had never tried any of these foods. Yes, the broccoli and fish made him gag, but everything else was delicious. And the whole time, she was explaining where they came from.
“Certain trees are able to grow fruits gradually over time. Some foods grow in the ground. And then there are others you have to catch and kill.”
“Kill?”
“Yes, kill,” the girl’s face fell. “Kill is the same as ‘die.’ It’s when the body can no longer move and spirit leaves for a different place forever. The body then begins to disappear in a really icky way that involves white worms called maggots until nothing but bones remain.”
“Does everyone ‘die?’” he asked.
“Yes. You, me, uncle, and everyone in this town at some point will die,” the girl said. She smiled at him. “But our time is not yet. You haven’t told me your name yet.”
“Name?”
“What do people call you?”
“Animal.”
“I’ll call you Leroy.”
“Le..roy?”
The girl clapped her hands together. “It sounds better to be called something other than animal, right?”
“Leroy! Leroy!”***
Happiness drained several months after that.
Suddenly, everyone was gone, their corpses wandering the streets under a stone sky. Leroy remained in his cell, his emaciated body shivering while his only source of comfort came from thinking about the days long since gone by when he still had joy in his life.
“It sucks to be you, you poor animal.”
He felt his skin prickle when he heard gunshots, followed by screaming from living humans.
He cowered in his cell, watching the dead become restless as they attempted to find and kill the intruders. He just wanted it all to stop so he could…die.
Suddenly, floorboards from above came crashing down in his cell, with a female voice yelling “FUCK!”
Leroy’s cell filled with dust and the only thing the giant could do was panic, arms flailing around. Eventually, his hands found a torso and he hoisted whoever it was into the air. The woman was attempting to force her way out, repeatedly kicking his arms.
“Fucking ass, let me go! Where the hell is my Remington?! I’ll shoot you in the fucking face!”
The dust cleared. Leroy’s eyes rested on a lady he had never seen before. A tied-up plaid shirt with faded blue torn-up jeans, brown gloves, and a green and white cap made up her outfit. Her brown hair was in a ponytail and her blue eyes glared daggers at him, though he couldn’t take her that seriously due to the freckles she had.
“Put me down turd-sucker or I’ll make sure you regret you were born!” her voice dripped with venom. Leroy flinched and dropped her flat on her rear before running away into his corner. This new woman found her gun lying on the floor and pointed at him, breathing heavily. Leroy put his hands up, trying to signal he wasn’t going to hurt her.
“Misty!”
Someone in a white shirt and glasses stared in through the window, eyes widening in terror. “Oh dear, what demon is trying to maul my flower?!”
“Marley, kindly shut your lovely trap for once,” Misty said in a low yet still gentle voice. She slowly lowered her gun. Leroy was rocking gently in his corner, making small whimpering noises. Misty looked over at the well-known nerd of her group.
“Umm, try and figure out how to come in here and open the jail door. Not from where I came in though, otherwise you’ll be stuck too. Get Stupinger and Russman to help. I’m counting on you Marlton!”
“Right milady!” Marlton saluted. He made a small shriek when he saw several zombies and quickly ran. Misty’s attention turned back to Leroy.
“Ah…I’m…I’m sorry I scared you,” Misty said softly. “You…you didn’t want to hurt me, did you?”
Leroy shook his head very quickly. Misty set down her gun and approached him gingerly. Carefully, she put a hand on his arm and patted it.
“See? I’m a good farm girl. Just a little rough around the edges. My name is Misty. What is yours?”
“L…Lucy…”
“Excuse-fucking-me? Lucy?”
“Nononono,” Leroy stuttered. “Lucy…gave…name. Name…Leroy…”
“Leroy…” Misty ruffled his bowl haircut. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Stulicker especially. He’ll probably think you’re part of another one of his crazy conspiracies…”
“Misty! I’m back with the Calvary!” Marlton climbed through the windows, followed by Stuhlinger and Russman (the latter with much difficulty).
“Jesus Christ, what is that thing?” Russman rubbed his eyes. “It’s frikkin two-times our size!”
“It must be one of those secret U.S Super Soldiers! Told you there was more than-!”
“Stupid Fuck, shut up!” Misty snapped. She breathed a sigh. “Boys…this is Leroy. Leroy, these three are my sweetie Marlton, Russman, and…ugh. Stuhlinger.”
Marlton found the keys hanging on a small hook on the wall and began hastily unlocking the cell door.
“Hold a sec Marlton, before you let us out…”
“Us? Why not just you?” Marlton stared at her bewildered. “That thing…”
“This THING is our friend now,” Misty pinched Leroy’s cheek. “And hopefully he’ll be able to help us.”
The lock clicked and the door swung open. Misty ran at Marlton and leapt into his arms, Marlton quickly going on to stammer about “how we can have a perfectly normal intimate relationship without so much touching.”
As the group began out of the crumbling building, Leroy looked to the large mansion-like structure that was near crushed under the rock ceiling. He could see a familiar woman in a black dress staring down upon him. Leroy reached a hand out to her as her image faded away.
“Lucy…”
“Guess that means we are similar…” Stuhlinger muttered. “We see things we’re not supposed to see.”Ok so maybe I did get teary-eyed but not like the other stories! Ok!? Deviantart user RikaConnect wrote this:)
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Sad COD Zombie Stories That will make you Cry
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