Unsainted

6: Bitter Truth for a Sweet Lie

Atrox sat on the edge of the bed, slowly taking bites out of a fresh arm. With each night that went past, dealing with it in the morning never got easier. Killing a wolf Atrox could deal with, something he would have done in self defense before....all of this. But murdering another pair of people? Atrox could take it, especially in the way he had done it. The body was still outside, its head and upper spine ripped off and out. And tossed to the ground beside it, to become part of the pool of blood that had dried in the sunlight. 

Atrox cringed as he remembered how he killed his second victim. He slowly turned his head, and looked at the otherside of the cabin. The woman's body was where he had left it, with his second victim's intestines on her waist and groin. The rest of the body Atrox had pinned to the wall by impaling the shotgun through its ribs, the legs and lower body however. Atrox could not find. He threw the half eaten appendage away and put his face in his hands.

"What am I!" Atrox sobbed,

He hammered his legs on the spot, in a tantrum. There was only so much Atrox was ready to deal with, and this had been the last straw. He stood up and kicked the bed with the back of his foot, unknowingly putting a dent in its metal frame. Then immediately dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together,

"please God" Atrox begged to the heavens,

"help me please.... tell me I'm not a monster.... please I-I'm having a nightmare and I can't wake up..." Atrox cried as small beads of tears dripped down his face.He took his moment to sob and cry, getting as much out as he could before standing back up again; knowing he had a task to finish. 

He began pacing around the room, slapping the sides of his head with his palms, hoping to jog some kind of memory. But the harder Atrox tried to remember, the more he seemed to forget. An idea came to Atrox, regardless if he had been murdered or not there would be records of it in the police station. At the least records of his autopsy gone wrong.

Atrox smiled at the idea and ran towards the door. He opened it and his smile immediately disappeared, it was the middle of the day. And he knew that once the sun had set and he could freely walk outside, he wouldn't have control over his own body. But he was determined to find out the truth. Atrox slammed the door shut and began to gather any form of clothing or fabric he could find. He completely covered himself in pieces of torn clothing from the numerous bodies inside the cabin, even tearing a hole in a thin blanket to wear as a makeshift poncho. Finally Atrox wrapped a shirt around his head and pulled it tight, leaving a small gap so he could see.

Sufficient that no part of his body was exposed to the sunlight, he walked back to the door and opened it once more. This time a pack of wolfs sat just a few meters from the cabin, watching the door eagerly. Atrox stopped in his tracks and stared at the animals,

"What?" he yelled trying to intimidate the pack.

The wolves were only mildly interested in Atrox, instead most of their attention was drawn to the large accumulation of rotting human corpses in and around the cabin. But instead of taking the meat by force, they patiently waited for Atrox; as if asking permission. Atrox didn't see the gesture and instead he wanted the wolves to leave him alone. He found that the decapitated head was the closest object to him, and kicked it towards the wolves before running into the forest. The wolves immediately descended on the head, and the corpse it was once paired with.

Atrox ran towards town, or at least ran in the general direction. There was no official path to the cabin he had been staying in, and what dirt track was left; the wolves where sitting on. The sun's light didn't burn Atrox's skin, but it was uncomfortably hot. To avoid this Atrox hid in the shadows of trees as he passed them. Unfortunately this added a considerable amount of time to his traveling.

It took an hour for Atrox to move through the forest, and thirty painful minutes as he sprinted across the open field to the nearest building in town. He hid behind a small convenience store, out of breath and partly burnt. But time was wasting. Atrox stood up and readjusted his ridiculous attire, before heading into town. 

He stumbled on the side of the mostly empty street, save for the occasional car that drove by. On the other side of town Atrox could see the police station, a slight glimmer of hope shined through his desolate eyes as he approached. He came near the center of town; with the church at its centre, and the sight of it made Atrox's stomach sink. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the old building; clutching his arms close to his chest 'why would I feel anxious?'  Atrox thought to himself as his heart rate increased. His vision began to blur and from just behind the church came a large group of people, surrounding a green pickup truck; carrying a large metal box. 

Atrox heart skipped a beat and he snapped out of his panic. He knew he couldn't be seen, so instead he quickly moved several paceses ahead of where he had been standing and ducked into a secluded alley. He hid behind a large object covered by a brown tarp, and poked his head around the corner. Luckily no one paid him any attention, as nearly every member of the crowd around the truck was carrying some kind of firearm. Atrox pressed his hands together and prayed silently as the crowd passed by, with the truck moving slowly with them.

Once the group phad passed, Atrox released a sigh of relief. The back of his head hit the object behind him and shifted, crumbling like paper. Atrox moved his head away and looked over his shoulder, he looked at the trap curiously before standing up to remove it. 

He grabbed the tarp with both hands and pulled it towards him. Underneath where newspapers, hundreds of identical copies all loosely piled on top of each other. Atrox picked one of the papers up and examined the front page. To his distress the front page had photo of his face with, 'Missing boy found dead' as its title. Atrox dropped the paper and regurgitated into his hood. He mustered up the strength in his weak hands to pick the paper up again and read. Whilst the article was padded out with extra words, it repeated to him the same message. 

He had gone missing several days before his body was found; according to father John. His parents; under the advice of father John, left the town to work through their grieving. And no autopsy reported had yet to be given.

A part of Atrox's mind had made the connection that he wasent ready to make. He placed the paper down on the rest of the stack, and leant against the alley wall. The urge to pray came to mind, but Atrox resisted the thought. If what he suspected was true, then...  Atrox wasn't sure what he would do. He slid down the wall of the ally and sat on the ground, with his knees up to his chest. 

"What can I do?" Atrox asked himself,

Asking for help, at this stage was impossible. He would be turned away or shot on sight. His only choice was to go back to the police station, for one last search for the truth. After that. Perhaps he would find forgiveness in God.