Dad

Tears fell from eyes as Spyder drew back with the axe. I saw the hammer crash down on his pale brow, cracking his skull with one massive blow. His eyes went wide, and the axe fell to the ground with a clank against the concrete.

"OH GOD NOOO!!!!" I yelled. My Dad didn't seem to here. He grabbed Spyder by the throat, and yanked him inside. I couldn't watch. I turned my back as I heard teeth rending flesh from Spyder's still gurgling body. I could here the twitching of his legs as his boots clattered on the hard wood floor. I could here my Dad...swallowing him. I wrapped my arms around my knees, and cried. The anger left my Dad's grunts, and became the pained groans that the others made. Whatever was human in him, whatever was left, was dead. He was one of them now.

Something clicked in me. I walked to my room, and opened my closet. I pulled out my leather jacket, and slid it over my naked flesh. I pulled on my tight, leather skirt and knee high leather boots. I slid the black fingerless gloves I used to wear back on, and pulled my matted hair back into a ponytail. No tears fell from my eyes anymore. The time for them was over. I calmly walked down the hall over the corpses of the zombies by father had killed, and opened his bedroom door. I reached under the bed, and pulled the .45 1911 Colt from under his bed. It had his name and Marine Corps rank engraved on it. I stared at myself in its chrome, and marched out of the bedroom.

My boots landed with dull thuds on the steps. He was hunched over Spyder's body, gorging himself on freshly killed flesh. I stepped up behind him, and clicked the safety off. I knew one was chambered. Dad always kept one chambered.

My arms did not quiver. I did not look away. The bullet slammed into him, the momentum alone slicing the flesh away before it even hit. It slammed through the back of his skull, pulling bits in with it. It tore through the soft tissue of the brain with almost no resistance, the skull fragments following behind it like remoras following a Great White. It slammed into the front of his face, tearing half of it off and sending the contents of his head across the hardwood floor. A bit clinked off of the axe that Spyder had dropped. This was not vengeance, or hatred. It was retribution. Cold, Hard, and Final.

"T...Tara...." Spyder said. I shifted my gaze. His face was contorted in horrible agony. He reached up with a half eaten finger. The blow to the head didn't kill him. I could see the bluish grey begin to form in his eyes. His entrails hung out of his body in a messy pile beside him. I could see the bulge in his pants. I leveled the gun at his head, and pulled the trigger...

I'd never driven Spyder's car before, but it wasn't difficult to figure out. With my father's gun in my lap and Spyder's axe beside me, I drove away from my home. Away from my nightmare...

I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that nothing would hurt me ever again.