My mom won't stop eating her arm. It's been about 5 hours since she started, and I can't get her to stop. My brother is starting to get worried. See, my mom has a disease called Hindeaga, a disease that means her body cannot get the nutrients she needs. She can't just eat food because her stomach can't digest it. Normally, she would have an injection to get the nutrition, but because of the start of the Vietnam War and our dad's death, she couldn’t have it properly shipped to the house. I'm writing this here to see if I can get help.
It's been six hours now, and the arm is shrinking. I think that her body is trying to get the nutrients from different parts of the body. My brother is throwing another fit. God, I hate him so much. With all of the stuff with mom, he just adds on, making it worse. I tried to feed Mom, but her body just wouldn't take it. My brother calmed down, which is good.
“Mom, I'm going out to catch dinner,” I yelled to my mom. No response, like normal,
my brother runs up to me and says, “Can I come, can I come?” he says with a too-happy tone.
“Not this time.” I say, immediately killing the smile on his face, "But hey, I need you to watch over mom, can you do that?”
The smile coming back, “You can count on me,” he says, saluting me like a soldier.
“Thanks, dude,” I say while giving him a pat on the head.
I grab the rifle and head out into the woods. After 30 minutes of walking, I hear tree branches snapping. And I see a deer. I aimed my rifle, and I was just about to pull the trigger when a loud gunshot rang out from my left, immediately scaring the deer away.
“Did you see the look on his face?” Two American soldiers walk out of the brush, one with a smoking gun.
“Yeah, that was sick.” A skinnier boy comes out with a shy look in his eyes.
“Too bad you missed”, the bigger-looking one says.
“Chill, man, I'm just warming up,” says the one with the gun.
As he says that the gun slips out of my hand and almost hits the ground before I was able to catch it before it hit the ground. I look over at the soldiers, none seem to notice but the skinnier one. I slowly put up my finger to my lip. The soldier looks at me and shakes his head, then turns to the others and acts like nothing happened. “ thank god,” I whisper to myself. Roughly 5 minutes later, the soldiers left.
I made it back to the house with two tiny squirrels. It wasn't a deer, but it was something.
When I walked into the house, I heard crying, and I instantly dropped the squelches and ran to my mom's room to see my brother covering his eyes. Mom's arm was now just a stub, but she was bleeding profusely from the eyes. I look away and tell my brother to go get some water and a towel. He listens and goes and grabs what I asked. I go up to my mom and touch her on the shoulder. Right after I do that, her head wrenches back and vomits projects out of her mouth, landing right next to the bed. At this point, my brother comes into the room, tears still in his eyes. “Is Mom going to be ok?”
Then the room seemed to pause, leaving me with my thoughts. I wish I could cry. I wish I could make Mom feel better. I wish that Dad hadn't died, but I lost my wishes long ago. I have to be the man of the house now. No more wishes. No more perfect endings
“Yeah, she's going to be fine, it's just the flu. What mom needs right now is for you to be strong and go play, ok?” My brother´s face lights up, and he vigorously nods his head
The truth is, I don't know if Mom's going to be ok. I hope so, though. I then clean up the vomit and the blood, laying mom down in bed gently. Then I go to the bathroom and clean myself off, wiping a combination of blood and vomit off my face and changing my clothes. I walk into the kitchen and see my brother playing with his toy soldiers as I start to cook dinner. My brother comes up to me and asks.
“Can I help?” He says in an excited tone,
“Ok, as long as you clean up your toys after dinner.” I say, " Handing him a knife.
“Ok,”
I then started to show him how to cut up vegetables. After he gets the hang of that, I start skinning the squirrels.
After a while of cooking and maybe two or more injuries, we made a veggie and squirrel stew. As we finish up, Mom limps through the doorway.
“What are my little boys cooking up?” she says in a weak tone
“Stew!” my brother yells
“Yum,” she says, hugging me
“Are you feeling better?” I say as I return the hug,
“a little”
“Do you think your stomach will be able to digest this?”I say, showing her the stew
“Maybe”
We then all sit down at the table and say grace. My brother starts eating well, telling Mom how much he helped with the stew. As he is telling her this, Mom is slowly eating the stew.
“Great job, boys, this is amazing.”
My brother looks up at Mom and says, “It was all thanks to my amazing cooking,” which made my mom laugh.
“How's your stomach?” I ask
“Good, it seems that it's digesting it pretty well.”
“That's good.”
After we cleaned up from dinner, Mom put Will to bed, but not before I made him pick up his soldiers. After Mom got him to sleep, she came into my room and said
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Yeah, how's your stomach?”
“Good, you really need to stop worrying about me, I'm fine.”
“Ok, I'm going to hit the sack. See you in the morning.”
“Good night.”
That night I didn't sleep well. At first, it was the planes soaring over our house and me praying they didn't see us. Then there was gunfire about 5 miles away. Then, after all that, it was Mom throwing up in the bathroom. I wanted to go check on her, but I worried it would make her worry that she would wake up. About an hour later, I was able to fall asleep.
I woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. Bacon, I thought we ran out of bacon a month ago? I walked downstairs and saw Will and my mom cooking.
“Where did you get the bacon?” I asked
“Mom caught a pig!” will say in an excited tone
“No, I found an old general store while I went on a walk last night,” my mom said in a stern tone.
“You're not supposed to go out at n-”
“I was awake, and I was safe, see I'm here now, aren't I?” she said, cutting me off.
“Where was the store? We'll make a run later today,” I said
To be honest, I'm glad that my mom found the store so we could get good food, maybe protein bars, so I could hunt for longer, or maybe a backpack. To carry stuff
“It's just about 5 miles south of here, and it's pretty full when you go. You should bring Will. It will be good for him to get out of the house.”
When she says that, Will's eyes glowed up
“Yes, yes, yes, I need to get out of the house.”
“Ok, as long as you promise not to complain.”
“I promis,,e I promi.se”
“But first breakfast,” mom said in a cherry tone.
After breakfast, I started packing up for the trip we were going to take after lunch, stayed there for the night, and then made our way back in the morning. The afternoon went well. I can check my sublease while mom reads and will play. By the time it was lunch, we were set to leave. We had sandwiches from the leftover squirrel meat. Then we were off.
“There's leftover stew in the fridge.”
“I know I'll be safe,” my mom said
“Keep will safe,” she said just quite enough for Will not to hear
“I will, you have the rifle, I took the pistol, be safe, ok?”
I gave mom one last hug, then we were out. The first 2 miles were easy enough. The last three, though, were not the greatest, from willfully complaining to almost getting caught by American soldiers. We were able to hide from the soldiers the first time, but the second time, we almost got caught. We were walking on the road when the soldiers' dune buggy drove right past, barely missing us. We quickly dived to the side and hid in the bushes. The car swerved around and stopped in front of us.
“What the hell was that?” said a soldier who looked about 23 years old
“ It was probably a deer,” said the soldier who looked to be the general
“I've never seen a deer that big and on their hind legs,” said the 23-year-old
“Let's head back to camp. It's probably nothing.”
As the car drove off, we waited for another 5 minutes to make sure no other cars were following them. After that, it was a simple walk to the store. When we got there, it was not as lively as I remembered. It was kinda depressing; there were abandoned cars and bikes, as everyone had left in a hurry. Which they did, I remember the day vividly. I was exploring in the woods when I heard the plains' little drills, the kind of sound you never forget. It's a low hum with a deep roar and a high-pitched ring as it approaches. Then, when you hear the sound of the bombs ringing down, you know it's too late, but the time it happened to me, it was different. I remember a creature with antlers like a deer and a face like a deer, and a human combined skull with legs like a goat. It was at least 6 or 7 feet tall, and it was holding the massive bomb. It said to me in a low-toned voice, almost like a cello; it almost hurt, but it felt good at the same time.
6“It is not your time, boy, but be prepared to save your family. I won't be able to help you then.”
Then, as soon as it appeared, it vanished. I never knew what happened. My brother was asleep at the time, and my mom doesn't like talking about it. My dad thought he wasn't as lucky as us. As I remember all of this, a single tear rolls down my cheek.
“You ok?” Will says in a concerned tone
“Yeah, I'm ok,” I said, wiping my tear, also kind of hiding it
We then make our way towards the store. In the store, I pulled out the pistol, held Will behind me. The store was empty except for some rats and a stray cat. My mom was right, the store was jam-packed with food. I quickly looked for a backpack, and I found an old backpacking bag with a water bottle and multiple pockets. The next thing I went looking for was guns. I went to the back of the store and found the gun section. It was all full except for a couple of places where there was broken glass, where someone had smashed it and stolen a gun.
Will to shoot with. I then find ammo for that gun to and
I looked for a suppressor for the gun I already had and found one quickly, then I grabbed as much ammunition as I could hold in my jacket pockets. I then pick out a small gun called a Makarov that I could later use to teach Will how to shoot. I found a suppressor for that gun and then went to find Will.
I found will in the pet section. He was trying to lure a cat.
“Come on, little kitty, it's ok, I won't hurt you,” he said in a calm voice.
The cat then went into Will's arms and started cuddling him.
“Can we keep him? Can we keep him?”
“Will you take care of him?”
“Yes, yes, I will.”
“Ok, let me hold him.”
Will then held the cat up to me, and I gently took it from his hand, petting it slowly. The cat's purr felt comforting and made me happy.
“What should we name him?” I asked
“How bout Willber?” Will said
“But that was Grampa's name.”
“I know that's why.”
“Ok”
Then Willber cuddled up in Will's arms as I went to get more supplies. I first went back to see if there was anything like a generator or gas. I quickly found a room labeled power, and I went in to look for a generator. I found a big hunk of metal that said.
“Only use in emergencies.” “Instructions: Pull the red lever, then open the side panel, click the button, then return the lever to its original position.”
I followed the instructions, and the generator hummed to life, and the lights flickered, then turned on.
When I came back into the main grocery room, I heard Will crying. I ran over to where the sound was coming from. I saw Will on the ground holding the cat in front of a cat that had been shot and a soldier with a smoking shotgun, a scarred look on his face, staring directly at Will. He then pointed his pistol at Will. I don't know what came over me. I quickly grabbed a nearby sheet of metal and threw it at the soldier. Meraculously, the sheet hit the soldier in the eye, and he yelled.
“SHIT”
I quickly took advantage of his distraction, ran over and grabbed the shotgun, and threw it away from him. Then I took out my gun and pointed it at the soldier's head.
“Will look away,” I yelled at Will
“But –”
“Will I said look away.”
He blinched, and I also looked away. A gunshot, then it was done. I felt the warm blood splat on my face. I saw Will take a peek and then quickly look away.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, will
“No,” Will said solemnly
I found a tarp and covered up the body. The Boy had a shocked expression on his face. He looked about Dad's age the last time I saw him. And he had a scar on his left cheek. It looked like he was asleep, but it was concerningly still.
It was my first time taking someone's life, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. I've heard some people say killing is an art, which is a horrible and gruesome art.
We finished shopping and went to the rundown motel. There were some suitcases on the ground, and some cars with their windows smashed. We found the main office and took some keys. And found a room. We set down stuff, and then I told Will to come out to the back of the motel. There was a fence where I set up some cans and handed Will the pistol I got earlier.
“Alright, point the gun and pull the trigger, that's all there is to it,” I said
“What if I hit someone?” Will said
“You won't.”
“Ok”
“Hold tight”
He pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. He missed the first target badly.
“Here, there's nothing to it.”
I took the gun from him and pointed it at the can and shot. I hit the can easily.
“Wow, where did you learn to shoot?” Will asked
“Dad taught me.”
I handed the gun back to Will.
“Ok, let me try again,”
He took the gun and shot again. He hit the second target.
“Yes, let's go take that bad guy.”
“Hey” I say, taking his arm
“Only shoot if it's the final option.”
“Ok,” will said sarcastically
“No, I mean it, I only shot that guy cause you were in danger.”
“How did you do that, throw the pan?”
“ I literally don't know, I just did.”
To be honest, I didn't know how I could do that, and I wasn't sure if I could do it again. It was just some dopamine hit when Will was in danger, and I acted without thinking. It was an act of pure luck.
We went inside and ate a big dinner. Then we went to bed early to prepare for a long walk. We woke up the next morning and went back to the store to get the last of the supplies we needed without a problem. We set off on the road at about noon. The walk back wasn't as eventful as the walk there. Only one run with soldiers, and it wasn't that bad. There were just 3 or 4 soldiers at the front of the store, which we easily walked past. They looked to be investigating the soldier who died. The soldier whom I killed.
After we stuck around them, we were good, and we just headed on the road. The walk was uneventful, and we made it to the house without a problem. When we walked in, Mom was at the table eating stew. It was around dinner time. When I came over to my mom to say hi, her face was disheveled and perfect at the same time. But then I realized she was just wearing a face mask.
“Hi, honey, how was your trip?”
“Ok, we got a lot of supplies, ” I said in a scared voice
“OH, sorry about my mask, it was moisturizing my face.”
“You look scary,” Will said
“Ha, oh, and who's this little fella?” Mom said, rubbing the cat's head
“This is Wilber,” Will said
“Named after grandpa,” I added
“Aw, isn't he just cute?” Mom said the way you would talk to a baby
I never got why people talked to babies and pets that way. Just to talk to them in a real voice, it just didn't make sense.
We then cleaned up from dinner and showed Mom the supplies
“I get there's a lot, but I'm going to have to make another run at some point to get more. I'd go alone this time, so I could do it in a day.”
“It's good for now, though,” Mom added.
We finished showing mom the supplies, then the question came up. I was dreading it.
“So were there any mishaps with soldiers or anything, ok?”
“We got attacked, but then he saved me, and he was like bang bang, then the guy was like ahh,” will explained
“That's not what happened."
“Then what did it sound like you guys were attacked?”
“What happened is that a soldier attacked us, and I killed him. That's it, none of us got hurt, so we're good.”
“He killed him,” Will added
“Will we talk about this?”
“You killed someone, and you were going to keep it from me.”
To be honest, I've killed a lot more than one guy. When I was 10, I was walking in the woods with my friend, and he fell into a cave. I didn't know what to do, so I left, and he was never seen again. Sure, I felt bad, but I didn't know better at the moment. When the war first started, I went to look for my Dad. I had found a downed fighter jet, and inside, there was a man.
“Hey, kid, can you help me?” he said in a half-alive tone
He was bad; he had scratches along his left side. It was gruesome. His jacket was dyed red with his blood. The stench alone was strong enough to knock out an elephant. His arms were trapped behind the seat in a position that could not have been comfortable.
“Have you seen my dad?” I asked him
“I'll tell you if you help me,” he replied
“Ok, what do you want me to do?” I asked
“See that lever in between my legs.”
“Yeah”
“That's the ejection lever. Pull it”
I grabbed the lever and pulled. It popped up, and I moved my arm away. The pop of the mechanism moving was relatively quiet. The seat launched up, leaving only his arms. The sound was what I remembered most, the sound of the flesh tearing one by one from the torso like little strands of string slowly ripping apart. Then the screams, oh the screams. The seat went flying away, and the screams of the man slowly getting farther away as the seat flew. Then the thud when the seat hit the ground, the parachute had failed.
I ran up to the man and saw him half dead. He said
“Kill me,” I could barely hear it over the sound of his sobs.
I pulled out my hunting knife and tried to hand it to him, but remembered that he had no arms. I asked him what to do, and he answered.
“Take the knife and slit my wri- my throat.”
I took the knife and did what he asked, looking away as I did. I felt the warm, thick blood drip onto my hand. I looked for a second, then looked away. He was bleeding from the mouth.
“Thank you” were the last words I heard come out of his mouth over the sound of him choking on his own blood.
That was 5 years ago.
After we finished eating, I went to my room to read
“You ok, you were awfully quiet at dinner,” My Mom said, peaking her head through the door.
“Yeah, I was just thinking.”
“About?”
I didn't want to tell the truth. But this slipped out.
“Dad”
“Oh, buddy, we know what happened to him. We found his watch.”
“But what if he's alive, and he's just somewhere else?”
The truth is, I knew he had died. I wish he weren't, though. After that, I went to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up to a scream. I ran into the kitchen to see my brother on the ground, crying and covering his eyes, and my mom looking away from the table. I looked at the table to see Wilber's head. It was a great sight.
His eyes were gouged out, and a black liquid, like tar, was streaming out, boiling almost like it was boiling. One of the ears looked bitten, and the other one was covered in blood. Some needles replaced his whiskers. The pure stench of the object was horrible. The cat's face was in mid-scream. It seemed as if he had been tortured before he died.
As I was examining him, Mom ran into the other room. I heard the familiar sounds of her throwing up.
I went up to Will and asked
“Maybe it's a different cat. It's probably just a stray.”
I cleaned up what was left of Wilber, and I went to make breakfast. When I opened the door to the fridge, all the food was eaten and torn up. Whatever bear or creature did that to Wilber, they clearly didn't have enough. Will and I ended up just having one of the protein bars I grabbed from the store. When Mom came out of the room, I asked her.
“Wanna Protein bar”
“No, I'm oddly really full,” she said.
Whatever was on the table, and ate the rest of the food, I'm gonna go out and see if I can catch anything for dinner. I'll bring a protein bar for lunch,” I said
“Okay, be safe,” Mom said
I grabbed the hunting rifle and my pistol.
“Keep mom safe,” I said to Will.
When I went out to the porch, I found the other half of Wilber. I knew it was Wilber because the collar had a little tag that said “WIllbear” In sloppy handwriting that I clearly saw was Wills. I disposed of the body, trying not to look at it. I then headed out to the woods.
In the woods, there was nothing for the first hour. I saw a couple of squirrels here and there, but other than that, pretty much nothing.
After that, I found some recent deer tracks. I tracked them for about twenty minutes when I came across a small family of deer. It looked to be a Mom, a Dad, and two dogs, one of them looking older than the other. I aimed at the biggest deer, which looked to be the dad, and, when it looked like a good shot, I fired and hit him right in the neck. The other deer immediately ran away, leaving the dead deer to bleed out. I went up to the deer, which looked dead, but when I went up to it, it kicked me in the chest, sending me flying into a tree, knocking the air out of me. I grabbed my pistol and shot two shots, killing the deer. I then started the long journey back to the house, carrying the deer over my shoulders.
When I got home, I went into the garage and started skinning the deer and taking out the skeleton. I set it on this cross-like wood structure; it was the last thing he ever made. On the back of the structure, there's a poem.
“It was on that day, the day of woe
That the forest produced a doe
See, the forest was angry on that day of woe
So it decided to curse that doe
It made the doe feel woe
It made the doe lash out at a foe
It was a maiden who was of labor
Born from labor, her great favor
Before the child could touch the air
The doe killed the mom right there
That's not all, the doe was not done
Then the doe left the child with none
A great illness no doctor could cure
A hungerless soul withdrawn and demure
The wind howled and made the clouds dark
The disease had eaten up her heart
A monster walked out of the fog and said
“You will die a painful death for eating the flesh of another.”
The women begged and pleaded
But the beast wouldn't see fit
He asked for a sacrifice of one
The woman like her mom before
Gave the monster a gift to implore
Her firstborn, who had the same curse
The beast took the mom, then instead
The child was next, now marked dead.”
What always confused me about the poem was that he made it up; he never got it from anything. Even weirder was when I went into the garage while he was carving; his face was white, and his eyes were black. I paid nothing to it, though.
After the skeleton was strung up, I went inside. The skeleton was disturbing, so I told Will not to go into the garage. We ate deer for dinner, and we went to bed. Before bed, though, I went into Will's room and said good night, but when I opened the door, a bucket of water fell on my head.
“What the hell, Will?” I yelled
“Sorry, it was for the monster.”\
“What monster, it's time for you to grow up.”
I ran to the bathroom and cleaned up, then I went to bed. I was able to fall asleep quickly because I didn't hear Mom throwing up.
The next morning, I woke up and went to say sorry to Will. But I couldn't find him anywhere. I checked his room and the bathroom, but I couldn't find him. Then I went out to the garage, and I saw Will hanging dead on the deer skeleton.
His whole stomach was being stabbed by the deer ribs holding him in place, and the deer head was engulfed in his head; his legs were limp and covered in blood. He was bleeding from the mouth, and blood was still coming out in clots, spilling on his shirt, and his hands were nailed to the cross with deer bones on the top of the cross. There was a sign made up of Willber's skin with his blood spelling out “YOU EAT SOMEONE'S FLESH YOU PAY.” Will's eyes were rolled up in his head.
It was my fault he died. His monster is real. I killed him, I killed him, I killed him, I killed him. As these thoughts were going through my head, I heard a door open and a scream, then a thud. I put my mom's unconscious body in a bed and went to barry Will's body. I cleaned up all the blood and scrubbed the floor clean. I then cleaned out all of Will's things in his room. The whole time, I was holding back tears. I then started to make lunch because by the time I was done, it was long past breakfast. I woke up Mom and tried to coax her to eat.
I've been writing this all down less and less. I'm currently doing fine. I am eating enough. It's been 5 days since his death as I'm writing this, and I still don't know what happened. Mom is getting too skinny; she needs to eat. I brought Mom some chicken, but she won't eat it. She hasn't showered in days, and she hasn't even left her bed. At this point, she's just rotting in her own filth. She's lost half of her limbs; she only has one arm and a leg. It's strange how she's losing limbs, but she's not bleeding at all.
I've been thinking about ending it all; the thought of the warm embrace of death is starting to get stronger and stronger each day. I'm heading out now to the store to get some supplies, hopefully a bear kills me.
Good news, I found Dad. He was at the store, injured and bruised. He was wearing the last thing I saw him in, and he looked tired. He's not as I remembered him at all, though he seems more aggressive than usual. Maybe he can help with Mom. After we met up, I took him home, and he told me what happened to him.
He was in a hotel when the bombs dropped, and he got knocked out. He was sleeping when he told me, now that's all he remembers. He says Mom killed Will.
I don't know what he's talking about, but he doesn't seem like he is well. He has started to tell me to kill Mom. I don't know if it's him or something that's made up of him.
Today, Dad was screaming that Mom ate Will, so I went out to check on the grave, and he was there just as I left him. Maybe Dad's right. Now that I'm thinking about it, when mom died, she started throwing up. Also, she said she was full.
Dad is cooking us amazing food. We found a dead soldier and took him home. I was reluctant at first, but when I had my first bite, I couldn't get enough. We ended up eating a lot of it, then we gave some to Mom. She loved it, and later, we didn't hear her throwing up. We ended up just briefing the rest of the body to show respect. I promised myself I wouldn't eat anyone else. It was a one-time thing, and I couldn't bear to do it again. I've also decided to write more frequently to provide you with a broader perspective. I'm feeling better now. My new goal is to keep Mom alive. I have a plan.
That night I got horrible sleep. I had a nightmare. Will was running from me and screaming that people were crying and screaming. I didn't hear anything, so I kept chasing him. We ran up to an enclave where there was a girl crying in a wedding dress. She was holding something, a baby. We went over to the woman and asked if she was ok.
“Hey, you ok?” I asked her.
“Look, my baby's sick,” she said, holding up the baby.
The baby was a crotesck-looking creature. The head was shaped like a deer's skull. There was hair all over the baby's body. The baby, seeing me, started to cry. As it cried, it started saying.
“Your fault, you killed me” over and over in a deep hum.
I turned around to check what Will thought of this, but I saw his face slowly molding into something different, the sound of breaking bones, and the flesh shaping. He started crying and saying the same thing.
“Your fault you killed me, your fault you killed me, your fault you killed me, your fault you killed me, your fault you killed me” over and over
I looked over at the mom; the same thing was happening to her. The sound of crying and flesh squelching drowned out everything else.
Then I woke up. The smell of food drifted into my room. I went to the kitchen and saw Dad over the stove cooking what looked to be bacon. Then my mom out of bed in the living room, reading. It looked like Dad had made her a prosthetic arm.
“Nice to see you're up,” I said to Mom
“Hey, sleepy head,” Dad said
“Whachya cooking?”
“Bacon,” Dad said, almost too fast.t
We sat down at the dinner table and ate breakfast. Your fault, you killed me, still rings in my head. Was it my fault? Was it me? I hadn't noticed that I was making a concerned face. I saw my Mom looking at me curiously. She quickly looked away when she noticed that I was watching her. We ate in silence. I recall that when I used to go to school, my friends would tell me how family dinners were a common occurrence. We had never had them, and when we did, we just sat there in silence. The first time I had a friend come over, after they told me how scary it was how we just sat there in silence.
I finished eating, then went to my room and started to make a bag to bring well me. I packed my gun, some ammo, a couple of protein bars, and a tent in case I had to stay the night somewhere. After I finished the packing process, I went into the living room and said my goodbyes to mom and dad. Then I was off.
Ever since I was little, I’ve always liked the woods. They were always so calm and peaceful. I would have wanted to see the wildlife, it always fascinated me that birds get rid of their young at such a soon age. I walked around in the woods for a while and saw mostly nothing. I went to a big open field to set up camp for the night when I saw three SUVs, parked 200 yards away from my camp. About a dozen people were walking around scouting. I quickly got down on my stomach to make sure they don't see me. They seemed to be with the military. They had guns and artillery. I slowly snuck closer to the vans. I was about 5 feet away from the people I was hiding behind one of the SUVs. A soldier was walking around, and he almost saw me, but I was able to slip under the car.
“Who's there?” the man said in a deep, tired voice.
“It's probably nothing,” said another one\
“I'm gonna check it out,” he remarked
The man slowly inched closer and closer, my mind racing. Five feet, what do I do? Four feet, I checked my pocket for my gun, three feet, nothing. I left it at the camp, two feet. I grabbed my hunting knife, one foot ready. The man got down on his knees.
I grimace, ready for him to shout that I was there, but before he could see me, I heard a scream and a splat of blood in front of me. Then gunshots, shouts, and pure chaos. I heard the sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing. I slowly crept my way out from under the van. I peered around the corner to see a giant beast. It was the same beast I remembered from the fallout of the nukes. He was covered in blood and was tearing a man from his torso. The second it saw me, it grabbed the last of the men and ran away. I walked over to the wreckage and heard a man screaming in tears. I walked over to the sound to see a man's torso ripped open, missing his legs. Inside his torso, a baby pig was rolling around in it like it was mud, the intestines streaming out. The pig then began to eat the intestines while the man was alive.
“Please kill me,” the man screamed.d
My brain was screaming to run, but I couldn't look away. I just sat there watching. Then the realization of how hungry I was rolled in. I dropped to my knees, taking in the metallic smell of blood. I stuck my hand into his stomach, feeling an intestine, the warm touch of the stomach cavity like a warm bed. I grabbed the nearest one and pulled. The familiar sound of flesh ripping filled my ear, and a smile crept onto my face.
“Please, you don't have to do this, I have a family, kids,” He screamed through the tears streaming down his face.
I grabbed the intestine and took a bite. The feeling of my teeth sinking into the flesh was delightful; the screams were even better. The taste of metal from the blood mixed with the bitter and sweet taste of the flesh made me smile even more. I then dug in. I ate it all, including the pig, the screaming of the pig, and the man filling my ears, making me feel good. After I was finished, I scavenged the site for as much as I could.
I went back to the camp and put everything away. I then found a stream, undressed, and washed myself. The cold water hitting my body, washing away the filth, was calming. I then went back to camp and went to sleep.
The next morning, I set off home, but not before I caught some fish in the stream I had found. I then started the journey home. I walked up to the house and went to the garage, skinned the fish, and froze it. I went inside to put my stuff away. The house was calm. I went over to the living room and saw Mom reading with her prosthetic and Dad whittling what looked like a prosthetic leg for Mom. New, I went to my room and unpacked my stuff. I went into the kitchen and began cooking dinner.
I first chopped the garlic thinly. I then filleted the fish and cooked them. Then, I chopped the remaining vegetables and added them to the pot. As I did this, I shed a tear. The last time I cooked it was with Will. The fish were sizzling, and the pot was bubbling. I finished cooking and set the table.
“Mom, Dad dinner!” yelled.
What I explain next is the most terrifying thing I've ever heard, seen, touched, and tasted. When I called out to them, no one responded, so I called again.
“Mom, Dad, dinner is ready!” I yelled again
Again, no response. I sat down at the table, thinking to myself for a moment. What if the monster from the army camp followed me home, killing them or in the process of killing them? I reached for my gun in my back pocket, the familiar feeling of the weapon touching my hand.
The next thing I did was move slowly into the other room, gun at the ready. I turned the corner to see nothing. Mom was still reading, and Dad was almost done whittling. I was calmed for a moment. But that calm slipped away when I noticed that my Dad's head had a dent. Now that I'm looking more closely, my Mom had a blind fold covering her eyes. I confusingly said this.
“Mom, Dad, are you ok?”
No response, then my Dad turns his head and says.
“Death waits beyond a small veil. Be warned.”
Then his head rolled back onto the ground, his eyes hollowed out, and his intestines fell out of his mouth. Then rats started to crawl out of the head less torso.
My mom's blindfold falls off her face, revealing a face pale as snow and eyes black as tar, tears streaming out, messing up her face like she's wearing a mask. Her body slowly began to rise and contort, arms snapping back behind her back, the screams filling my ears. Her legs contorted at impossible angles, moving as if pulled by invisible hands. A low, wet crack echoed through the room, too calm, too deliberate, while her skin seemed to shiver, shifting in place. Every instinct screams that whatever was happening wasn't human, something was taking her over, taking their place in her body as a new home. As my Mom was doing this, my Dad's body began to rise to, and his head retook its place on his neck, the veins stretching out, catching his head and placing it back in its place. The same thing that happened to Mom started happening to my dad.
The sight made me want to vomit. I ran to the other room, grabbing a bucket of water. And I threw it at my dad. His body began to twitch and morph him, and my Mom floated next to each other. Their bodies began to glow, then their flesh seemed to tear off the bones, and the screams were deafening. My body seemed to move by itself, grabbing the gun in my back pocket. I began to shoot it for every shot for something.
Bam, I'm sorry, Will. I should have protected you
Bam, I'm sorry, Mom
Bam, I'm sorry, Dad
Bam, I want to cry
Bam, I want to be held.
Bam, I don't want to be the man
Bam, I don't wanna grow up
Bam, the final shot was for me. When I opened my eyes, there was A pile of body parts all mixed up, and the flesh still steaming from what had happened.
I'm now walking, I don't know where I'm going. I'm just walking. This is the final time I'm writing. I'm going to go kill myself or something. Signing out for now.
The end,