---------Part V------------
There’s a Shadow hanging over me…
Melissa hid in the shadows of her luxury apartment building suspicious that someone was coming for her. For some time she had been searching each room, looking for food. So far, the only things she’d found had been and elderly couple three floors below hers. Either they had not heard the news, or were too feeble to get out while they could. Most likely they realized there was nowhere to go.
She made a quick meal of them, and they didn’t scream too much while she feasted. But, like with Blaine, the experience overwhelmed her with guilt. Even as she was killing them, she was apologizing to them. Asking them to forgive her.
It had been two days since she killed her husband and, for the most part, she was able to control herself again. Burning inside her was an insatiable desire to consume. Every second that passed brought with it the pain of an empty stomach, sharp and stabbing. She tried foods of all sorts, even going so far to fix herself a bowl of chicken noodle soup, but everything she ate that was not flesh made her sick. She found that she could eat cooking meats—beef, chicken, and pork—but they provided little sustenance for her. Still, to combat her guilt, she persisted and vowed to only eat Man-flesh when it was impossible to resist her instincts.
She could feel her thought process changing slowly. She supposed her mind was shifting to adjust to her new body, but had no way to know for certain. How could she know? One day she had been a happily married woman, and in the blink of an eye everything changed. Now she considered herself a murderer.
She moved quickly from the shadows of the stairwell to the nearest door. Room 491. She twisted the door open quietly. Since her change, she had somehow gained an enormous amount of strength, and the door provided no resistance to her. She also noticed that she could move with speed to match a running deer, in addition to her being able to smell blood and flesh from a distance. I’m turning into an animal, but I feel so alive. She was not sure why she was changing, physically or mentally. She tried to remember the events leading up to her transformation, but everything was too blurry and jumbled together.
The apartment was empty, but something caught her attention. Directly in front of her was a mirror. Staring back at her was not the Melissa she immediately recognized. Her features were present, shoulder length brown hair, average shape and size. But her eyes were not the normal reflective blue they were supposed to be; instead, they were dull and grey. I’ve seen those eyes somewhere before. Her clothes, a once beautiful summer dress, were tattered and bloody. Her arms still bore the knife cuts from Blaine’s attack, and the jab to her ribs had left a gaping slit in her side, but the blood and pain had long since ceased.
As she was studying herself, she began to ponder her life. Am I even alive? she thought. She thought she must be, though she did not appear to bleed any longer. She had checked for her pulse, but had found nothing. What am I going to do with myself? Before her change, she had been an electrical engineer, working on establishing a greener power grid for the city. She was intelligent, and had worked with some of the biggest minds in the country on fixing the growing energy crisis. She was twenty-seven years old when she married Blaine. Why do I look so much older?
Staring into the mirror, she could see the blotches on her skin. Once tanned, it now looked like an aging piece of wood, brittle and brown-grey. She realized that she was trying to cry, but tears refused to come. She leaned in closer to the mirror, her face inches from its reflection. “Why is this happening to me?” she asked aloud. In a sudden fit of rage, she punched the mirror. Hundreds of cracks ran through the glass, pieces falling to the ground and shattering.
Anger burned inside her, mixing with the guilt. I should just end it all right now. She walked out onto the balcony, having made up her mind to jump. She paused, hands grasped around the railing. Would it even kill me? Without thinking, she leapt over the siding.
She made a quick meal of them, and they didn’t scream too much while she feasted. But, like with Blaine, the experience overwhelmed her with guilt. Even as she was killing them, she was apologizing to them. Asking them to forgive her.
It had been two days since she killed her husband and, for the most part, she was able to control herself again. Burning inside her was an insatiable desire to consume. Every second that passed brought with it the pain of an empty stomach, sharp and stabbing. She tried foods of all sorts, even going so far to fix herself a bowl of chicken noodle soup, but everything she ate that was not flesh made her sick. She found that she could eat cooking meats—beef, chicken, and pork—but they provided little sustenance for her. Still, to combat her guilt, she persisted and vowed to only eat Man-flesh when it was impossible to resist her instincts.
She could feel her thought process changing slowly. She supposed her mind was shifting to adjust to her new body, but had no way to know for certain. How could she know? One day she had been a happily married woman, and in the blink of an eye everything changed. Now she considered herself a murderer.
She moved quickly from the shadows of the stairwell to the nearest door. Room 491. She twisted the door open quietly. Since her change, she had somehow gained an enormous amount of strength, and the door provided no resistance to her. She also noticed that she could move with speed to match a running deer, in addition to her being able to smell blood and flesh from a distance. I’m turning into an animal, but I feel so alive. She was not sure why she was changing, physically or mentally. She tried to remember the events leading up to her transformation, but everything was too blurry and jumbled together.
The apartment was empty, but something caught her attention. Directly in front of her was a mirror. Staring back at her was not the Melissa she immediately recognized. Her features were present, shoulder length brown hair, average shape and size. But her eyes were not the normal reflective blue they were supposed to be; instead, they were dull and grey. I’ve seen those eyes somewhere before. Her clothes, a once beautiful summer dress, were tattered and bloody. Her arms still bore the knife cuts from Blaine’s attack, and the jab to her ribs had left a gaping slit in her side, but the blood and pain had long since ceased.
As she was studying herself, she began to ponder her life. Am I even alive? she thought. She thought she must be, though she did not appear to bleed any longer. She had checked for her pulse, but had found nothing. What am I going to do with myself? Before her change, she had been an electrical engineer, working on establishing a greener power grid for the city. She was intelligent, and had worked with some of the biggest minds in the country on fixing the growing energy crisis. She was twenty-seven years old when she married Blaine. Why do I look so much older?
Staring into the mirror, she could see the blotches on her skin. Once tanned, it now looked like an aging piece of wood, brittle and brown-grey. She realized that she was trying to cry, but tears refused to come. She leaned in closer to the mirror, her face inches from its reflection. “Why is this happening to me?” she asked aloud. In a sudden fit of rage, she punched the mirror. Hundreds of cracks ran through the glass, pieces falling to the ground and shattering.
Anger burned inside her, mixing with the guilt. I should just end it all right now. She walked out onto the balcony, having made up her mind to jump. She paused, hands grasped around the railing. Would it even kill me? Without thinking, she leapt over the siding.
* * *
Seconds before she hit the ground, Melissa had a revelation. Blaine was not trying to protect me. He was infected as well, and just wanted to eat me. I should’ve caught it in the way he walked, the way he cocked his head. But his eyes were the same as mine. Somehow I managed to overpower him and save myself. The irony was not lost on her, however, as she slammed into the concrete.
3 comments:
Ahhhhh!!! But is she dead!!??!!
I'm loving this wee story. Splendid work, Sir.
Now, who can I eat for lunch?
Thanks pal. It's been fun writing, too.
Have I mentioned that you freak me out? I LOVE ZOMBIEZ...name a ZOMBIE after ME!!!!
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