CHAPTER XXVII
I don't know why we always have to part ways with the ones we long to be with. Even if the world showers us with every joy imaginable, nothing can truly satisfy us in their absence. Sometimes, my heart aches with a longing so deep, I wish I could tell Mon, "Take me across the depths of eyes, my vessel, you're my savior."
The flicker of hope, a fragile ember of courage, began to surge within me, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. Whether they were a horde of dozens or a terrifying legion of thousands, the zombies pressing down on me, I was resolute: I would live. With a desperate surge of will, I clawed my hands and feet into the unforgiving earth, the pain a searing brand, and with a grunt of effort, I heaved up the uninjured half of my body.
A scream clawed at my throat, a raw, primal sound, but I clamped down, biting my tongue so hard I tasted blood, as if my teeth were determined to tear through flesh and bone. The weight lessened, the crushing pressure of the undead easing as they shifted. Slowly, agonizingly, I gathered what remained of my strength and lifted my hands.
A guttural growl ripped through the air as a zombie lunged, its putrid breath hot on my face. But the sword I'd driven into the ground, a desperate anchor, found its mark, piercing the creature's gut, buying me a precious moment. It wasn't dead, this abomination, and it clawed towards the hilt, its dead eyes locked on me. With a roar of defiance, I plunged the sword in my hand into its skull, a crimson explosion painting my helmet with the final, sickening spray of its demise.
A cold dread washed over me – if I didn't remove my helmet, the putrid, vile blood of the zombie could seep into my fractured skull. Yet, the thought of removing it sent a fresh wave of terror through me. To expose myself like that, to the ravenous horde that surrounded me, was a death sentence. It was a cruel dilemma, a choice between two horrors. I sat there, paralyzed, the undead figures looming before me, their eyes burning with a hunger that spoke of endless days without sustenance.
They saw me, not as a person, but as the last morsel of a feast they'd long craved. It was a scene of utter desperation, like a single pomegranate surrounded by a hundred starving souls. With a surge of adrenaline, I gripped my swords, the cold steel a small comfort in the face of such overwhelming odds. I moved with a desperate fury, a whirlwind of steel and rage, cutting down as many of the undead as I could reach, each swing a desperate prayer for survival.
I struggled to stand, but fate, it seemed, had other plans. There was someone, perhaps, who didn't want to see me alive, someone who had cursed me to a gruesome death. As I stand, the pain in my body screamed that tonight was my last, while the threat looming before me declared that this moment was my final one. In both scenarios, death had knocked at my door.
The lion, the one that had escaped, the one not infected, now returned, transformed by the virus, and even more terrifying. I watched it approach, a long, heavy breath escaping my lips. In my bag was a dagger, incredibly sharp and large. I considered reaching for it, but even the slightest movement could be a death sentence. It had cleaved Haider in two; killing me would be effortless. I wanted to live, so desperately, so I was determined to try. My pain was a cruel barrier, hindering my agility, and this task demanded speed. Yet, without hesitation, I sprinted towards my bag.
I managed to pick up my bag, my heart racing with fear, but now the lion emerged from behind me; it was terrifyingly close. I still hadn't taken the dagger from my bag, and a wave of panic washed over me as I realized this might be my last day. I slowly started moving backward, my eyes fixed on the lion as it slowly approached me; it was a moment of sheer terror, but also a glimmer of hope - maybe I could survive.
With a surge of adrenaline, I hid the knife in my grasp and plunged it into the lion's eyes, which made it roar deafeningly loudly. The sound sent shivers down my spine, but I knew I didn't have time to waste because the lion was blind, not deaf. With a cold determination, I knew the wise thing to do was to kill it.
I opened the bag, and as soon as the sound of the zip opening went into the lion's ear, it attacked my hand with a fierce growl, but I was prepared, and with a swift movement, I moved my hand away just in time. Relief washed over me. Then, with a steely resolve, I took out the dagger and struck the lion's throat, which severed it in one swift, deadly motion, and in this way, I managed to kill the lion.
A mix of emotions swirled inside me - fear, relief, and a hint of savage triumph. But my thoughts were quickly overshadowed by a haunting question: I don't know how many innocent people I killed today. The weight of that realization hung heavy on my conscience. Seeing this, a vow formed in my mind, fueled by anger and vengeance: whoever had spread this zombie virus, if they were alive, I would not let them live; I would infect them with a zombie and kill them, a cold, hard resolve burning within me. Now, exhausted and wounded, I lay on the ground to catch my breath; the pain slowly increased, and my eyes began to close, heavy with fatigue. But even in my weakened state, I was aware of the danger lurking outside, so with a final effort, I closed the back door very firmly and then returned to the mansion, collapsing onto the floor as I lay down, drained but momentarily safe.
Mahi and Aarvi were questioning me, their voices filled with concern and a hint of disappointment. "Sam, what now?" they asked in unison, their eyes locked on mine with an unspoken expectation. I took a deep breath, a mix of determination and apprehension swirling inside me, and replied, "I'll participate in the drama because that's what Mon wants." My voice was firm, but a slight tremble betrayed my nervousness.
Mahi's expression turned skeptical, her brow furrowed in concern. "Sam, when I told you to explain things to Mon and apologize, why didn't you?" Her words cut deep, and I could feel the weight of my regret. Aarvi chimed in, her voice soft but persuasive, "Yes, Sam, you should have told her. Who knows how painful this will be for Mon?" Their words hung in the air, and I could feel the tension building up.
I raised my hands, a plea in my voice, "Please, just stop for a moment. Do you want me to break down?" My eyes welled up with tears, and I could feel the emotions threatening to spill over. Mahi's expression softened, but her voice still held a hint of firmness, "No, Sam, but..." I cut her off, my voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation, "There's no 'but.' Tomorrow, I'll go to the teacher and register my name for the lead role in the drama."
Mahi's eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded, "Fine, have it your way. Just remember, Sam, you'll have to make it up to Mon." I took a deep breath, the weight of my responsibility settling in, and replied, "I know." My voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with a determination to make things right. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, but I knew I had to take the first step towards healing and redemption.
To be continue.....