The Art of Death Vol I

Chapter 45

"This can't be right," I whispered while being confused. I looked at the map I was holding.

"What's wrong?"Naomi asked me.

"We took a wrong turn way back in Texas. Don't worry, just made the trip a tad bit longer," I explained. She nodded. I mean, I knew where to go from here. We took the wrong direction, and ended up in a small town west of New Orleans, Louisiana. Called, "Winston", New Orleans. I don't know how we ended up here. But we needed to find a safe spot to rest for the night. Since it was getting close to dusk, about an hour from it. We looked around through the neighborhood we were in. This was a strange place. Nothing else but houses. We eventually found a house to settle in, I tied the horse inside next onto the staircase's railing. I covered the second story of the house as Naomi covered the first. There were about four rooms. Three bedrooms and one bathroom. I covered each.

First I went into the bathroom. I checked behind the curtain, nothing besides old debris and dust from sitting there for years. There was a closet, nothing. That part was clear. I checked the bedroom right next to the bathroom, on the right coming out from it. This bedroom was insanely bright colors of pink and other colors close to it. It looked like a girl's bedroom, I could be wrong though, who knows. The bed was ripped apart. The mattress had cotton coming out of it along with a few springs. Books and clothes scattered everywhere. Nothing that I needed here. I checked the closet, nothing. I went to the room next to it. I opened it and was greeted with a bedroom that smelt unbearable. Clothes that reeked of human sweat, feces laying everywhere. I looked around and saw nothing. The closet was opened so I peered in there for a split second, nothing. I got out of that room fast as it was disgustingly unbearable. I went to the next room over, and opened the door. The room looked in better condition than the last two rooms. And that's not saying much. The bed was still in place, but who knows whose fucked on it. I looked in a drawer of a dresser. Pretty much a mess. I found a little ammo, which we needed. 

Then I heard growling. I knew what the familiar sound was. A Beast. The sound came from the closet. I looked over and started to see banging on it from the other side of it. I carefully held my gun up, and moved slightly closer and closer to the closet. I moved with soft steps; tip-toeing at least. I got about an inch from the closet. I saw a rope tightly tied over the handles of the closet, so it couldn't easily escape. The banging on the walls of the door got louder and more obnoxious. The smell of it's breath so close made me want to vomit. It smelt worse than death, something so abdominal and disgusting I couldn't even think of a word for it. But I kept my cool. I took my machete and cut the rope off. I instantly held my gun up when the door opened. Wham! The doors flew wide open, with the thing less than six inches from me it went to pounce on me, like a leopard attacking a gazelle. I instantly shot it, and blood and brains spewed all over me, while blowing it's head clean off. 

Almost instantly, I heard an "Oliver! Are you okay?" Travel up the stairs from Naomi's mouth. 

"Yes! I'm okay! And it's clear up here besides that one Beast!" I hollered back. What I wondered is if that the sound of the gunshot would travel far enough this time for Beast's to hear it. I mean we saw a couple about a block or so away. I wasn't sure if they would exactly locate it, more travel to this vicinity. I then went downstairs. I saw Naomi looking in the living area, at least that's what I assume it was. Fact is, we haven't even talked about our relationship, and what it meant to either of us since she talked to me in that jail cell about two weeks ago. I didn't know if she felt it or not now. She is extremely complicated. Maybe she was waiting for me to "prove" to her that I love her. That had to be it. But I had to wait and figure out what I would do. I couldn't do something in the spur of the moment, then instantly get rejected. That's not how I work. It has to feel right enough to me. 

"So we crash here for the night or what?" She asked me.

"I assume so. I mean there's no signs of anyone living here in years," I replied. Right after I got those words out, she pointed me to something in the kitchen. I walked over to look at whatever she had to show me. She opened a broken fridge. The fridge was filled with meat... But the meat didn't look right. Then she pointed out a chopped off head. The meat wasn't human or animal; rather it was literally made of Beast. I ghasped at the sight of this. Then I went over to the sink and instantly vomited inside it.

"Oliver? You ok?" Naomi asked, then came over to me and rubbed my back.

"What the fuck is this?!" I hollered, then added, "Whoever lives here eats fucking Beast meat." It was fucking gross. Who in their right mind would do that? Not only is it disgusting and unsanitary, but if you eat a Beast, you get infected. It's a slower infection rate, since how it is mutated, but people will still turn no matter how much of it you eat. You could eat a small bite of it and it would infect you within six hours. We needed to get out of here. Whoever eats this will come back infected, there's no way they couldn't be. That Beast upstairs... Well that was going to be another meal. "Naomi we have to leave now!" I commanded her.

"But why?" She questioned me. 

"Because the person who eat's this meat will come back infected. If he hasn't turned already he will turn soon enough," I explained. 

"Well we can find-" Naomi got cut off. The front door opened.