My Song

Chapter 11

If ever I've been exhausted, it's been from doing too much of a physically demanding activity or doing too many physically demanding activities. Usually when I exhaust myself, it's very extreme, and I feel like passing out. But when I had to kill two men directly, then stumble upon- yet escape- enough zombies to tip over a house, I felt a different kind of exhaustion.

It's called freaking stress. Mental stress. It may have not killed me, but it sure did take away from my years.

After jumping another fence, then another, I signaled silently for Douglas to slow down. The house in front of us seemed like prime real estate, and no zombies were around to suggest otherwise. It was quiet, except for the distant moans.

We snuck up onto the back porch and stood on either side of the door, veiled in darkness. I knocked on the door and waited. No answer. Good.

||||////\\\\||||

With a slight push the door creaked open to reveal a dark and creepy interior. Lock picking took way too long, we thought for a few moments we were caught but we got into the house without any fighting. The house was accentric, with Victorian Era wallpapers and ornate wall runners with wooden flooring. It was a beautiful house.

Douglas and I slowly entered, making as little noise as possible. We were in the kitchen, where it was a pristine clean and equipped with stainless steal appliances.

Oh boy! It's like someone was expecting us!

That isn't good at this point, if there is men trying to kill us. But there's a slim chance any more of those men would wait to kill us, right? Right?

Douglas and I crept into the dining room, where there were more expensive pieces of furniture and dining ware. The table wasn't set but that was fine, it was a good enough house anyway. I didn't really think there could be as nice of a house in this town as this, so I was being continually impressed. The colors of the paint were so vibrant even in the darkness, and the lights and the china cabinet and even the flooring was all-

"Mitchell, dude, wake up man." Douglas whispered from behind. I shook my head a bit and realized I had stopped moving. How disappointing.

"Uh, let's keep going." I whispered back, trying to keep a smooth voice.

We entered the living room, and I paused. I was waiting and listened intently for any sounds or movement coming from another room or floor. I waited for about five seconds, then really strained my ears to hear anything. Yet heard nothing. We were pretty quiet so there is a chance that if a zombie or human is in the house then they might've not heard us. So I started taking chances. I switched Melody out with Harmony and held the knife in my left hand, and slipped the strap of my backpack over my shoulder. I flicked on an LED flashlight, then have another to Douglas.

"We aren't going to need to worry about fighting many zekes it seems, so we only need to prepare for a few." He opened his mouth to argue but I motioned to keep quiet. I began ascending the stairs, a light was left on in a room upstairs. I turned back to Douglas before reaching the top,

"Be ready." I whispered so quietly, I though I imagined it. He nodded so it must have escaped my mouth.

We crept down the hall at the top of the stairs, passing four rooms I didn't bother to check. I wasn't worrying about them, there wasn't sound anyway. We reached the door of the room that was still lit up, the door was open enough to let light down the hallway. I couldn't see too far in, I could only see a dresser with drawers pulled open and clothes hanging out. I looked to Douglas and counted down from three on my hand. He held the metal rod in his hands with only two sections on the handle section, making it suitable for indoor melee.

I nudged the door open a little hard and it swung fast on its hinges, while I stared agape at the sight before me. I expected a zombie to lunge out at me, but not a feeling of all-consuming sadness. I felt depression, I felt compassion perhaps least of all. I felt a bit numb. I heard both my weapons used formerly as tools hit the carpet in soft thuds, and heard Douglas swear under his breath. It was literally breath taking, and not in a good way.

A lamp was knocked to the floor under the Disaster Scene, casting a dim and low menacing glow, around the ceiling fan was a sheet twirled and wrapped as a rope, hanging on it was a...woman...she was elderly. The fan was past the edge of the bed a bit, making the bed the place the perfect place to jump off. But what made that part worse is that the fan was much too high to reach for her...it was an assisted suicide. But that wasn't even the worst part.

She was still snarling at us. I decided I'd seen enough of the world myself, I wanted it to stop. I wanted an end to this crap already. Enough of the pain, enough of the suffering. I wanted to be released of this torture. Then I heard I found Douglas was shaking me while I lay on my back. "What the hell man?! Get up, there's more of this damned zombies! I can't do this alone dude!" His last words had me coming back to reality. That I had taken a responsibility, made a promise, to protect the ones I love. Friends and family alike. I can't do that while I'm dead, but...

I stood up, determined now. I have a mission to fulfill. I threw Harmony and the knife in my backpack and took out Melody. Turning the axe head to its blunt side I brought it down on the door nob and took a step back. Zombies burst through the door with their hands out to us, moaning uncontrollably, their empty eyes trained on fresh meat.

There were five, and the room was maybe fifteen by thirteen feet. But to me it was enough, I was in an adrenaline rush and wanted to feel every bit of it. I was enjoying it. As I charged towards the zeds I felt the rush of energy and strength I'd never felt before, it was foreign. That made the feeling even better. I was able to move with such speed and strength I felt unstoppable!

Before I knew it I sank the axe blade into the last zombie, dropping it to its knees. I tore the axe out and turned to Douglas, whom stood where he did originally. His face wore an expression of shock and awe, unmoving and still. That's when I realized how absolutely soaked I was. I looked slowly down at myself and was covered in a dark red, thick blood. All of my shirt as well as my pants shined a dark crimson in the light of the dim lamp.

I gaged in a struggle to keep bile down. Ew.