Chapter 48: Tango with the Devil

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Four months after the Outbreak

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Four months after the Outbreak.

A heavy downpour had broken off all over the town. Its brook swelled with raindrops and deposition of dirt and other elements. The flow of the stream was wild and roared against the rocks. Bottles and tent material was washed away by the waters, followed by the body of a man with a crushed skull. Red velvet mites tried to crawl out, but soon got drown with other insects. The river had no empathy, it took any captive inside its wrathful current.

By the bank, under a crooked willow tree, a young man was spared by the precipitation. His wet raven hair hung in front of his face, akin to the depressed branches around him. The trunk welcomed his back as the man hugged himself with his crouched knees and wrapped his arms around them. His tears ran down his cheeks and joined the brook. At his feet, between a group of rocks, snails and a garden snake sheltered themselves. Up in the leaves, crows slept and chirped a bit.

Michael stayed crouched, fluttered, and cried. His pale skin was fissured by dark veins as if it was chipped china. A music box played Greensleeves at the back of his mind. He stared into oblivion while his left eye twitched from time to time. His iris glowed yellow as his pupils were of the most hollow darkness.

"Always crying, aren't you?" asked a honeyed manly voice. David's.

The young man did not move and still faced the brook.

The grass rustled as David bent one of his knees. The man hummed Kiss an Angel Good Mornin'.

"Poor little Mikie, always hurt by the big mean world." David chuckled. "Sometimes you just want to bite back, don't you think?"

Michael stopped to tremble.

"After all, doesn't it make sense?" David smirked. "When the whole world puts its weight on your shoulders, you throw the weight back at them, right?"

David leaned toward the young man.

"You remember that man who beat his son and killed your dogs?" David whispered. "You remember him?" David ruffled Michael's hair. "How much joy you had into making him pay?"

Michael shocked his head left and right. "It-it wasn't me... You made me do it."

David rose an eyebrow. "Did I? I never forced anyone to do anything... I just give gentle pushes." He put his lips near Michael's left ear. "All the lies you made, all the people you killed, it was already written inside you."

The tall man gave a soft peck on Michael's head.

"Do you know why some people become insane?" David asked. "It's because they can't accept the madness of the normal world." He caressed his face against Michael's left cheek. "Being normal means being blind."

Under David's touch, dark veins grew all over the young man's face.

Images flashed inside Michael's mind; the neighbors who watched his mother and did not defend her, the teachers who let the other kids bully him, the police who did nothing.

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