The teen's eyes fluttered open. "Good morning, sweetie," I greeted, feeding him some hot oatmeal.
"Who are you?" he mumbled.
I was surprised. The little one didn't remember me even after the massacre last night? "I'm the bearded man that bashed in your dad's skull," I informed him.
"I thought you were my dad," he protested.
Then it hit me. After watching his dad get beaten and cannibalized, the trauma destroyed his memories. He would have to start anew because of it. But that meant...from now on, I would be Carl's father. He was the son I never had. He was the one light in the abyss of darkness that could save me.
"I...I love you, son," I said, my eyes tearing up.
He smiled at me, his one eye glistening. "I love you too, Dad."
