My nipples are so cold. I wouldn’t be surprised if I could cut diamonds with them. I’m in a library. I gathered some books a few hours ago, and broke down some shelves. I’m glad I was able to make a spot in this place where I could contain a decent fire. I’m sitting here now, waiting for the fire to get bigger. Maybe I can cook some of the dog I caught. It was the only thing I could fucking find. I do what I can.
That dog, I think it was a terrier. I didn’t look too closely. It was surprisingly good. Actually, I’m surprised it’s lived as long as it has in this bullshit. The thing tasted like a mix between beef and… something else. Let’s hope it will continue snowing, and being fucking cold so that the rest can freeze good for later.
I’m feeling a little lonely. This weather reminds me of a group of travelers. It was in the 1800s, and they trudged through a fucking ocean of snow. One guy dies, he gets eaten. They begin killing each other for food. They don’t even wait for them to die. They did get pretty damn clever about it though. They labeled the meat, so family wouldn’t accidentally eat family. Pretty clever, right?
I won’t eat people. I won’t lower myself to the Dark Ones’ level. That’s just fucking rude. People are just living their lives. They don’t deserve to be eaten. Fucking jerks. I’ll kill myself with my own ribs, right out of the cage and into my own Goddamned neck, before I consume people. Those sick fucks can burn in Hell for all I care. Sure would make my life fucking easier.
Day 1,887… I think that’s right. So many fucking days have past. Hard to keep track.
Ring around the rosy. Pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down… I smile and sing this from time to time. It’s comforting, and the funny thing is, I don’t really remember why.
Today’s crappy. I miss her. I miss them. My family. I broke a finger today. It hurts like hell right now. What was I thinking? Oh, I wasn’t. Well, that serves me right for bending it backward. My finger hadn’t done anything wrong.
Sometimes I enjoy sitting in the corner of this room. I press my face against the wall. Press my nose tight against the rough scratched surface. Until it hurts. Until it hurts a lot. It seems like a good punishment. I don’t really deserve to live, but suicide is not the answer. I decided that from the very beginning. I sit in my corner and press my big nose into the wall. It dries the tears for a little while. It drops the guilt just a bit. Whether or not—if this wasn’t fucking ink, I’d erase. I don’t like scribbling out my mistakes. It makes it look like a bloody mess.
Oh, one more thing before I wrap this fucker up. This makes me smile. I’ve found a companion in my travels. He’s been great. I just met him the other day in a scrap with the Dark Ones. He smells strange though, not like body odor really, something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s not a big deal. His name is Breckhart. What a fine fellow. He’s great to talk to, really. A real great listener.
Day 1… What is happening here? People are attacking and even eating each other…
I would like to say that this day began and ended on a wonderful note, but that would be a lie. It began rather lovely though.
In the morning, I gathered some clothes: a nice turquoise polo, some tan slacks, and whatnot. I took my shower, and prepared for the afternoon celebration. It was my maternal grandmother’s 75th birthday today, and we celebrated by throwing a big dinner party.
Things went famously for the afternoon, and everyone was having a good time. It wasn’t until the evening when madness struck. We were getting the cake ready, and we turned the lights off. It was dark, and I heard a blood-curdling scream escape Aunt Janet’s throat.
Grandpa seemed a little odd before the lights were shut off, but no one really paid it any mind. I guess we should have. In the dim light from the candles we were lighting, I saw Grandpa digging his old whites into Janet’s neck. She pushed against him, and he let go for a moment, growling. He tried to stand and fell to the floor. Grandpa could barely walk without a cane, so he couldn’t get to his feet, but he went for Janet’s ankles as she was holding her neck. Her face was tight from pain and fear. It was horrific.
It wasn’t just Grandpa. Uncle Phillips, he went too. That man had made me laugh for years, and now, he’s dead… he’d gotten hold of my nephew Timothy… this is horrible.
When it became clear that this was some kind of pandemic, we moved Grandpa, Uncle Phillips, Aunt Janet, and Timothy to the back yard and burned their bodies. We all sat around the living room with the windows boarded and the doors locked. We sat, tuned into the news, until all the channels just went off the air. We were able to gather some information at least: these creatures can draft you into their ranks. Don’t get bitten if you can help it, because there is no known cure to this… whatever the fuck this is.
The evening’s events did eventually come to a close. I am sitting here now, with a cold bowl of beans. Everyone is fast asleep, well, sleeping the best they can, to my knowledge. You can’t blame the family if they are up with horrible images racing through their minds. Erin is laying nearby on the futon, asleep. She just fell asleep a little while ago, I think, and I will lay down next to her soon. When I’m through with these beans, and this entry. I’ll wake up my brother, James, to take the next guard shift, and then hopefully get some Z’s.
Of course I’ll say a prayer first. It’s important to keep faith, even in times like these.
Day 71… What a day! Fuck me! What a horrible day. Dear God…
I don’t feel right. I might puke after today’s events. I’ve managed to keep pretty secure where I’ve been. These fuckers are relentless sons of bitches. It’s really horrible having to deal with adult Dark Ones. It’s terrible. But when you’re faced with a child, a mere, innocent-looking child… it’s not easy. I cut myself today. It helps relieve the pain a little. Even if just a little, it makes my life easier.
I was in need of some supplies. I go on runs periodically, and I was in the store. The empty fucking store. I thought it was empty, anyway. A little girl walked out from behind a cart of groceries. She was wearing a pink Barbie shirt with frilly sleeves. It was covered in blood. Some of it was turning brown, but most was fresh. It was wet, and probably still warm. Just past her was a body with all its unconsumed innards poured out on the cold floor.
She heard me, and I saw her see me. I froze momentarily, and didn’t know what to do. I felt as if it were day one all over again. The little fuck charged at me. The Dark Ones are rather fast these days. She was trying to get me open within a few seconds, and I kicked the girl off. I didn’t care to deal with her shit any further, so I pinned her down, and she squirmed and gnashed her bloody teeth.
I brought the gun I’ve been carrying for a while now to her forehead. Her head moved back and forth while my finger rested on the trigger. I saw her eyes, and suddenly felt a great emotional tidal wave. This was a fucking little girl once. She played with Barbies, judging by her taste in clothing, and she probably set up tea parties with her stuffed animals and spent time with her family on Sunday mornings. I’ve never had to deal with a child that was changed like this. Her eyebrows were slanted down, and her mouth was in a tight scowl, but her eyes. Her eyes, though they didn’t look right, seemed sad. They were a dark grayish green, and they seemed so sad. I hesitated, and was almost fucking bitten.
That seemed to turn off my emotions for a moment. This saved my life. I shot the girl right in between the eyes, and she fell limp on the floor, blood leaking out of her head. I sat down next to the little girl’s corpse for a little while with the gun in my hand. I felt a song creep into my head, and heard the tune escape my closed lips in a soft hum. Pretty soon, I found myself singing it. A creepy children’s rhyme. It makes the pain melt away… for a time.
Day 1,902… Everyone keeps fucking dying around me… it must be my fault.
Breckhart looked at me from across the dinner table. He wasn’t hungry. He just stared ahead in my general direction.
He was practically drenched in blood, sitting there. I wa
nted to say something, but I didn’t want to argue with my only fucking buddy. No fucking this up. He’s all I have now. He smells awful. I don’t understand this. It’s such a horrid smell, but I guess I can just learn to live with it. He sits in his chair, flies buzzing near him. They adore being around him.
Gross.
I hope he doesn’t hear some of the mean things I say about him. God forbid he read this entry.
Day 1,903… Breckhart… no. You’ll be missed, my friend…
Breckhart is dead. We were playing cards to kill the boredom. The boredom was really getting to me. Don’t wanna get too fucking crazy. First, he had a pretty bad fit of coughs. It seemed endless, until it ended. He fell over, and was just gone. He didn’t respond to me. He didn’t even turn. I looked him over, and realized he’d had several ribs exposed on his chest. There were other sections of decomposing flesh all over him. When I felt his skin, it was ice cold. So quick, too quick. Why?
No one will read this and be able to tell me, so why would I ask?
I buried my dead friend today. It was a sad funeral. I don’t want to write anymore about this matter. Leave me alone; I’m gonna sit in my corner in a minute. It’s my punishment for letting Breckhart die, among other things.
Day 6… We needed supplies, and we got them. But we paid dearly for them…
A few days ago we decided to send a few of the more able-bodied people out to the nearest store for some food. Some stayed behind to guard the house and the people inside, like our grandparents. Erin, myself, and four others headed out. It seemed safer to go in one car, so we all went in the SUV.
There were accidents all over the streets, bloodshed, bodies littered the curbs and sidewalks. There were a few in the parking lot of the store, some defiled, some intact, all covered in blood and attracting wildlife. We went into the store with our weapons, carefully. I didn’t know what to expect. I hadn’t ventured outdoors since we burned the dead in the back yard.
All went smoothly until we reached the furthest reaches of the store. The back room was dimly lit, at best. The lights were dark, and it was hard to see what was there, but we thought there might be something useful back there. Barry, Erin’s older brother, lit a lighter, and that made him our leader. The flame illuminated the dark areas as we moved along. It was quiet, and that worried me.
As Barry led us with the light, I heard a chewing sound. The flame light washed over an open torso, legs and arms sprawled out. The Dark One making those sounds looked up immediately, and Barry didn’t have the chance to react when he was pounced upon. We worked to get the creature off of Barry, but the scratches on his arms and bite marks on his chest and arms were pretty bad. I knew what we should have done, but Barry protested. He sobbed, and Erin defended him. It was terrible.
I was not the one who proposed the idea, though. It was a friend of mine, Marty. He had been my friend for years, but he wasted no time threatening to shoot my wife’s brother, just like that. I know it was silly to think Barry wouldn’t be affected by his bites, but for God’s sake, Marty just pointed the gun straight at Barry and began shouting.
He yelled that he was going to end Barry’s life so that he wouldn’t end ours. That did not go over well for the rest of us, Erin especially. She stood in front of Barry, who was completely mortified. He had always been so afraid of death, as long as I’d known him. He cried, and begged to stay with us until he turned. He didn’t want to die. I couldn’t blame him.
It felt like a nightmare that just got even worse when Barry stopped crying and grabbed Erin. She screamed, and I tried to grab Barry off before he sunk his teeth into her. We wrestled for a moment, but I was too late. Erin was crying, and she fell to the ground, holding a bite wound. When Marty got a good chance, his hand shaking as he did it, he shot Barry. Barry collapsed, he was dead. Marty went over to Erin, hesitantly.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” I remember saying to Marty. He looked at me, and grimaced. With a nod, he turned away, and said we need to hurry, and get the rest of our shit together, and that we didn’t want to make those at the house worry about us.
I was thankful for the gift I received that day. I was lucky to have Erin for significantly longer than she’d had Barry after the bite. We sat alone together and talked. It was sad, but at the same time it was light, almost a little happy. I tried my best not to think about her inevitable fate. It was going to come at any moment, so I had Marty’s gun ready. I kept it from her view though. I think that her not knowing I had it put her better at ease for our last moments together.
She lasted for almost two hours before she finally changed. After I shot her, I almost wanted to do the same to myself. I wondered if God could forgive me. I’ve always heard suicides go to Hell, but couldn’t God make an exception? Jesus, weren’t we already in Hell?
Instead of shooting myself, I thought about the people still at home, and made myself get what we needed from the store and get back there. When we got back I just sat in my room for a few hours. Marty knocked on my door sometime later, and he sounded very ashamed. By then I’d cried most of it out, but my eyes still burned. Marty and I talked; he urged me to join everyone for a little dinner. I hadn’t eaten since before the store. That was midmorning.
I ate with the family; it was a solemn occasion. Not many words were spoken. After dinner, I took Erin’s body out to the back where the pyre was set up for our other family, and I gave her a proper send-off. I didn’t cry much, just stood there and watched. I miss her so much. So fucking much, but I know she’s in a better place. Another thing I know, we are in Hell. As the flames engulfed her body, I remembered some of what we talked about in her last minutes.
We’d discussed, foolishly, that we should just up and leave. Head to the most wide open, deserted stretch of land, and settle down. Just the two of us, and wait for this to blow over. “It would be so romantic,” she’d said. Shock was obviously affecting her judgment and reasoning, but she wasn’t the only one. It would have been great. I wished we would have, but there she lay, burning.
She’s nothing but ash now. I bagged it up and dropped it down in a jar from the cabinet. “Someday,” I whispered to Erin, “someday we’ll leave together, and it will just be you and me.”
Day 346… This one is short. Fucking insomnia… I want sleep. Too tired to write much here, but too awake to sleep. How fucking great is that?
The Dark Ones don’t wanna give up. Please, God, smite those fuckers already. I can’t stand their incessant moans any longer. That scratching and hitting. I want to stab my eardrums. I can’t sleep either. I had insomnia earlier in my life, and it’s come back to torture me. I guess I should’ve expected this.
Every now and again, I’ll see one of the Dark Ones attacking one of the living. Not too often these days, but it’s horrible. It’s sinful. Their souls are blackened. Dark as coal, and they’re going to Hell. That’s where the name “Dark One” comes from anyway, did I mention that? I don’t remember, and I don’t go back and read these so I don’t know what I’ve already written sometimes. Anyway, it’s sort of my own coined term. Whatever you’re calling them though, they’re horrible creatures. I might have to figure out a way to block the windows better soon. I don’t know… I need some fucking sleep… I feel so lonely. So lonely, and so tired…
Day 1,884… Breckhart.
I almost died today. This guy came out of nowhere and saved my life.
We talked for a while. He was a fun-loving sort of fellow. Really wish I could’ve met him before this shit. I think he said his name was Breckhart. Gavin Breckhart. I was on one of my runs to gather food, and there were a lot of Dark Ones. He shot some of them with his shotty, but one got a hold of him.
He lost a lot of blood, but just like that, he was fine. But he was getting a little handsy. And mouthy. I don’t swing that way, but I think I might have killed him… I feel terrible… he’s fine now though; I think he’s forgiven me. Either that, or it was just a bad dream. He’s fine now. I love talking to him.
He doesn’t talk too much, but when he does, it’s always interesting. Like I said, I wish I could’ve met him a long time ago.
Day 169… I have to leave. They’d be better off without me. I can fend for myself.
Today was just it for me. It was night when I woke up, and made the decision. Everyone was asleep. Everyone was completely passed out, and I figured it would be the best time to leave. I know that when they realized I was gone, they would likely freak out, but I had to leave. So, sometime after two a.m., I got some things together and took off in the little white Camry. I drove for a while until I found a safe place to stay. It’s not too bad here. It’s a bit secluded, and I haven’t had any issues with the Dark Ones thus far. Hopefully I don’t have any at all, but that’s regrettably wishful thinking.
I think I’ll be here for quite a while.
Without thinking, I wrote this letter twice, the one I left for those I called my family. This is what I wrote the first time. It’s not exactly like the one I left them, but it’s mostly the same.
Dear My Loving Family,
I’m sorry, but as you already know by now, I had to leave. I hope that you will be fine on your own. You, unlike me, have numbers on your side against the Dark Ones. I hope you can forgive me. I have some things to sort out here, and with the loss of Erin, I just don’t want any of you to see me this way. I fear it will only grow worse for me, but I assure you, I will be all right.
Also, I am sure we will meet up again sometime in the future. Once the creatures have died off, and our kind regains power over this beautiful planet. I cannot wait for this day. I want you to all know how much I love you, and wish you the best.
After the Bite Page 15