For the last year I’ve spent many of my days watching so many people die. And they didn’t die well. Their demises have been slow, brutal and heartbreakingly excruciating.
Today was no exception.
There I stood in the pummeling pouring rain, in the middle of a large subway car yard transfixed by the searing sight of a family of three fighting for their lives. My blood boiled as I witnessed death manifested in the reanimated form of a shambling shell of what used to be a robust man, savagely pouncing on a woman who was also a doting mother. Her two sons, ages eleven and fourteen, watch in horror as the ghoul repeatedly clawed into their beloved mother’s flesh like a vexed vulture.
The two sons cried out for their mother as she was begging for them to run to safety but her boys were stunned with feelings of terror and helplessness . I, too was unable to do anything but helplessly standby.
It wasn’t long before the oldest son suddenly snapped out of harrowing hesitation and grabbed hold of a long piece of discarded railing rusting on the soaked ground and bashed the cold blooded ghoul on it’s back. The blow delivered was heavy but the damage was minimal. The ghoul grew even more pissed off, it’s full-on fury shifted to the brave teen who took another swing at it. The teen intended to bash it’s head. Unfortunately the ghoul caught the railing with it’s hand and flung it aside.
The ghoul quickly raised up, brownish slimy salvia trickled down over shriveled lips as it extended it’s bloodthirsty maws . The older son staggered back and then fell back. The ghoul viciously tackled him down. By this point, my already sunken heart plummeted several levels more. I knew the kid was done for.
The younger son painfully screamed his brother’s name. The prone mother, bleeding heavily, cried out,”Leave my baby alone!” The petrified teen’s eyes widened in horror, as the ghoul’s face got uncomfortably close with his own. Droplets of slimy salvia fell into the teen’s eye. Then rotten teeth sank into the left side of his face. An ear splitting wail quaked the yard. Whatever sliver of hope left in the mother and little brother died. The ghoul hungrily bit off another chunk out of the poor young man’s face - a face that was just starting to make the girls go crazy.
The mother bursted into inconsolable tears, as she laid dying. The powerless little one scurried away sobbing. By this point I was incurably despondent. The ghoul continued to strip the flesh off the young man’s bones while his mother had finally succumbed to her wounds. Her lifeless face permanently marked with the look of crushing despair.
The hurt in my heart became compounded with volatile anger directed dead center at the ghoul. I’ve helplessly bore witness to every single atrocity this callous creature had ever committed. So many bodies, so much blood...I’m sick of it! It’s too much to take. This monster needs to be put down! But the chances of that happening aren’t good.
This predator is quite clever. It is also very resourceful and is incredibly relentless in it’s pursuit for survival. I know all it’s strengths and weaknesses as well as I know myself. And I should… because the monster is me. Or what used to be my body.
I died several months ago, sacrificing my life so good people could live. When I passed my soul departed from my ruined temple but it didn’t cross to the other side.
Since my death didn’t involve any trauma to the brain my earthly remains rose back and quickly began an feverish run of slaying and feasting.
I don’t know why my soul hasn’t ascended. Perhaps for one to rest in peace, one’s soul must be at rest and my soul is consumed with distress. I believe as long as my rotten body continues to wreck havoc on this Earth, I’ll never be able to take my place above in our Father’s home.
Nothing else I can do but watch and wait. Until someone comes along and seals my corpse’s fate.