Never Close Your Eyes

TC : C. 47

| Chapter Forty-Seven |

'How could someone do this?' She thought, questioning her own morals now, 'Is this really why we're saving humanity? So people like this can make profit for the aftermath?'

She looked at the doorway the two men crowded as they spoke about celebrities that had already turned Z and couldn't be saved. Dean didn't seem to see a wrong in his doing, and (Y/N) knew it would probably take more than a shrink to tell him that he's wrong.

Her (E/C) hues keened in back on the Blaster that looked at her with so much disgust. Blasters were the ones that could express more compared to other zombies, and she knew they thought the same of each other. Her thoughts were more sane, better recognized.

'You kill these things, you don't set them up like dolls.' At the thought, she looked down at her 'doll' outfit.

She was just that--a doll to this man. Something to play with, and who knows what will happen when he gets bored of her. She doesn't comply well, so it won't take long for him to figure out how to discard of her but save for later.

She shook her head as the thoughts flood her opinion on the vaccine; she wasn't a doll to her friends. 10K would always let her learn by herself, like someone who cares for her. He lets her create her own experiences, even if they are slightly unhinged.

Warren always had her back on decisions, despite some people not wanting to listen to her. This man, the psychopath that kidnapped them after trapping them in a rabbit hole, was the problem.

The people (Y/N) ran with deserved to sleep at night without someone watching over them; they deserved a world they could walk around without being armed with a weapon of some sorts. 10K deserved to have his little farm on the outskirts of a populated town.

Dean was no better than the Z standing in front of her. The only difference in the two was, Dean had no physical appearance that showed sickness.

A loud 'BAM!' made (Y/N) jump out of her skin and turn to look at the two, that was once peacefully speaking. Murphy was discarding the book he used to slam into the face of Dean.

Her eyes went wide with fear when she saw what he had done. Murphy was already in front of her, grabbing her hand as they ran from the room. Before they could comfortably leave though, Murphy's eyes stopped at a certain chair with his name sitting beside it.

Literally. Dean had made a sign with graphics around his name. Shaking her head, (Y/N) now took the lead to rush them out of the room completely. Murphy finally processed everything in a minute to take back the lead.

"I have no problem making you bleed!" Dean shouted from back in the red room.

She just knew he was reaching for the gun in his pants. The two ran out of the basement together, going straight for another set of stairs. They needed to avoid all other doors until they reached the sun-level and could see out a door.

Every so often, Dean would slam into something, which would make (Y/N)'s skin jump at the sound. She stayed quiet, knowing they didn't need to send him straight to their escape. (Y/N) could've sweated but she refused to let her body feel absolute fear.

This man was not scary, this man was anything but something she should be scared of. She has looked at some mean motherfuckers and laughed, he is no different. He's only a man with a sick obsession.

Dean began to go on about Murphy's iron throne and (Y/N)'s box. Murphy yanked (Y/N) back when she tried to go into the first room on the right, to hide for a few minutes. Dean finally tried to offer Murphy a certain percentage on sales, once on the iron throne but it didn't sound too appealing.