Light Wall

Chapter One - Memories

   In my memory over 200 years ago, man kind was visited by life from another planet. We ,as humans, wanted nothing to do with them. The almost human-like beings were greatly offended by the unwelcome and did not come back. Although something was left behind and it destroyed many of our lives forever. 

    The Virus,it morphed the body into an unstoppable train of thoughtless flesh and muscle. I've seen a dog morph once, before the wall was functional. I remember how sick and thin it looked before the canine's snout burst into three sections, large blisters oozed from its legs. The animal yelped and cried in pain. Two whole minuets is what it took for the infected canine to finish the process. He supported himself on his oozing legs and snuffed the air. A horrible sound came out of the entrance of what was a snout, like nails scratching down a chalk board. Flesh and fur peeled off him till muscle showed. Bang. Bang. Two shots fired at the beastly thing. One in the belly and one in the head. Another repulsive shriek came from the animal and wiped it's head around of the direction of the firearm. My father was looking down the barrel of the black rifle in his hands. The dog advanced quickly toward him, red oozing foam spilled from what was once his mouth. Bang. The last shot rang out in the air and the animal's teeth ripped into my father's abdomen. Blood spewed from where it was feasting. Fear dripped into every inch of my being. I forced myself to hold my breath, and slowly moved to a house with a sliding backdoor. My father's body jiggled,when the animal shook it's head to tear his arm off. His eyes were still open. I shuttered squeezing my eyes closed. My hand brushed the handle of the glass door. The touch made me shiver. I opened my eyes to see my father one last time. His body was contorted as if he was reaching out to me, eyes glazed over but staring directly at me. The animal stopped eating my dad, turned his grotesque face toward me and hissed. A bloodcurdling scream escaped my mouth, as the infected lunged in the direction of the glass door. 

    Then I woke up. Hair and cold sweat covered my face and neck. I shuttered cowering in the corner of my bed. The sheets were damp, but unsure if the dampness was urine or not. The whole room smelled of stale urine. "Disgusting", I murmured under my breath. This room endured Filthy act by filthy act and now I lived here. Besides the dirty floorboards and blood-spattered walls, it was home to me. The whole room had, a bathroom, bed with sheets, and a mostly working kitchenette. The bathroom had a working shower, which is very hard to find hot water. Unfortunately, the shower curtain had large dashes in it. Water liked to seep out onto the floor and make mud puddles. I've learned towels have a much better use of soaking up water puddles than drying myself off. The bathroom sink is plain white, or what used to be white. A grimy dirt and scum layer covers the unusable sink. I turned on the shower to "H" as far as it will do. The water scalded my skin and stung my inner thigh. Chapped legs,I thought. A crimson rash covered the inside of my legs.

    This might as well be the only motel with hot water for miles but, worth every exhausting step. The tub used to have a cream colored interior which now had the same layer of dirt as the sink. Tiny thick rivers of brown water flowed down my body into the drain. My skin slowly became my normal sickly gray color. The veins in my arms were bright blue and purple tint. I turned the shower off and stepped on the clay-colored towel. Water continued to trickle in fast-paced drips. 

    I glanced at the mirror and my lips curled into a snarl, hate seethed through my body. Vibrant colored squiggles covered my jaw bone up to my left cheek and down into my neck. Two brilliant liquid aeneous eyes stared back at me with the same disgusted expression as I had. As if my external features did prove what I was infected, then my black speckled tongue would. I stuck my long tongue out to analyze the heart shaped mark in the corner of my mouth. My teeth jagged were flavescent from lack of hygiene and toothbrushes are pretty hard to come by on this side of the wall. Bits of black and green objects were lodged between my teeth. "How long has that been there?" I complained.  The room became silent. Stale air clogged my lungs. 

    I knew my clothes were in extreme need of washing. They were inside my large sack. Everything I owned was worn, dirty, and stained beyond any hope of repair, only elbow grease could help. Clothes are usually donated by the safe side of the wall, pity inspired kindness. I suppose I should be thankful but the thought of needing help repulsed me. Why should I need some rich know-it-all to give me their old clothes? I wasn't a charity case. I was put here by them. This was supposed to be an honor, but now I'm forced to live in this wasteland. This is most likely why I need new clothes so badly.  

    I quickly walked out of the bathroom and over to the rucksack. It contained mostly clothes with smaller bags with needles, syringes, alcohol swabs, two sewing kits. The first sewing kit was used for my overused clothing. The other box was for last second surgical procedures. Luckily for me and anyone I've found beyond the wall, I only had to sew a finger back to its original placement. I mostly used needle syringes, to infect someone. I grimaced at the thought of more people like me. No one know what will become of the infected, but it's the only way to survive this side of the wall. I grabbed the clothes from the sack and tossed them in the bathtub. Once again turning the handle to the faded red "H". I stuffed a ,stained clay colored, wash cloth in the drain. The water became tainted after it touched the cloth. I scrubbed the first t-shirt, then the next piece of clothing. I continued till I reached my favorite pair of pants. Sometimes scrubbing doesn't seem to work on blood stains. I smoothed out the newly washed clothing on the small dining table. The table was dark brown and slightly scratched. Dampness seeped into the wood from the washed clothing.  

    I never used the kitchenette in the small room, because Sinder banned any cooking besides his. Sinder was a beefy type of man. He never shaved his bushy facial hair, because of his bright visible veins in his neck. He was like me, infected, but unlike me, he signed up to be infected to stay with his family's graves. Sinder was very much a family man and treats everyone he meets as such.    He doesn't talk about his past family much, just little fragments of his little girl. Little Abby was ripped apart by her infected cat. He never spoke of his wife or daughter again. We both lost our families during the first breakout.  

    Sinder went out of his way to take out the gas ovens in all of the rooms in the motel. He wanted the guests to sit at a family dining table. To spend time with one another. After a few years of not having many guests, the "family time table" became mandatory.  There was a large gap between the cabinet and the unplugged refrigerator where the oven used to be. Dirt and leftover metal covered the spot. 

    The cabinets are my favorite part of this room. They were a deep red color, spirals of black and lighter shades of red were on the surface. I kept them clean over the years so they didn't suffer the same fate as the rest of the room. They reminded me of the kitchen in my own house. The brutal dog revisited my mind.

    I wasn't like the dog in my dream, but a stem off of the same virus. Dr. Felix Cloud became the lead researcher when the outbreak began. Many of his students, like me, were chosen to participate. Little did any of us know that we were the experiment. A cold chill floated along my rocky spine, causing goosebumps to rise. Many of the students and volunteers didn't retain their human personalities as I did. The students became ticking time bomb after a certain amount of time passed after infection. I was lucky that Dr. Cloud finally reprogrammed the virus. That is why I'm still here, in this room. 

    My mind smacked back to reality from the knock on the door.