u/CocoaCustard13

CW: >!Mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts!<

When we stepped inside, both the air and the mood had soured. The smell of vinegar was pungent throughout the place. Something rotten lay hidden within. We crept, slowly, gently, as my own dammed curiosity led us further into the den. The place looked more aged since I last saw it. More decayed, more tarnished. It looked as if a feral animal lived there, which isn’t too far from the truth…

We wandered in deeper, looking at the various things left behind. We treaded carefully across the various furniture and tables strewn across the floor, making sure not to make a noise as I saw the hallway. It was as thin and oppressive as I remembered it, suffocating that space in between the walls. We heard him then, though we didn’t know what it was at the time.

A crunch echoed out into the house, it boomed violently like a gunshot. It was followed by wet snaps, sharp cracks and the unmistakable sound of flesh being torn from bone. I don’t know what I was thinking, the sound should have snapped me out of it, but it only lured me closer. I half imagined seeing Shane still being mauled by the thing that grabbed him, as if time had stopped since leaving him for dead so long ago. The truth was more dreadful than I could ever anticipate.

I wasn’t prepared to see him again, not in that state. He was bigger now, broad with only the faint remnants of humanity showing from the dark. Exposed skin glowed under the dark, oily exterior as one side leaked endlessly onto the floor. A gaping hole oozing a thick dark liquid next to the corpse of one of the dark things on the floor, torn apart and mauled by Shane in his new state.

I can still hear the sound of broken glass crunching under her feet… I can still remember the face she made when his ears perked up… Worse of all, I can still recall that brief silence that followed before the chaos…

It was only then that we were shown the full extent of Shane’s transformation. He turned to face us with one dark, slimy hand on the ground. Gone was the old, weathered face of his, now replaced by a mass of hair. Poking out from the thick strands of oily hair was a pair of bright, tusk-like teeth. He was larger than I last saw him, though only in absolute  size, as his body was still lean and scraggly despite towering over us.

I didn’t realise I had his rifle raised until I was staring down the sights, his shrouded gaze focused on me as I aimed towards him again. It only took him a moment to lunge at me, swinging his heavy hands quickly, giving me only a second to block him. The gun flung out of my hands, a shot fired as it hit the wall. I froze as I fell onto my back, looking up at him as he lumbered towards me.

 

Behind him, I saw Julie raise an old chair above her head, before swinging it down against his back. He stumbled against the doorway as I got to my feet, racing towards the gun. I hear him cry out in pain, his voice as familiar as it was foreign. It was as if he possessed two distinct voices that spoke in unison.

As I ran towards the gun, I felt something heavy hit me in the back of my head, before splintering as I fell onto the floor. Glass shards shattering around me as I felt warm blood trickle down the back of my neck. My ears where ringing as I crawled. I pulled myself towards the rifle, my legs refusing to cooperate as I reached out for the gun. I gripped the wooden frame in my hands before I rolled myself around, glass shards shredding my clothes before clutching the rifle once more, reloading it before freezing where I laid.

The moment lasted an eternity; I watched as Julie’s arm got caught in Shane’s grip. His dark hand wrapping tightly. She cried out, first in fear, then in pain, as I watched him snap her forearm like a twig. The sound it made along with the sight of the bone piercing out from the skin made my blood run cold. I snapped out of it as I aimed once more, before firing into him one last time. The bullet zipping just past her as it struck him in his boar head.

The bullet went straight his wet skull as he continued tearing at her arm, before the skin and flesh was pulled taught, snapping in two as thick blood poured from the gaping wound. She fell as his great, dark hands pushed her down to the floor, pinning her as he looked towards me. I am ashamed of what I did next, and I don’t expect to be forgiven for it.

I got to my feet, and while I wanted to fight, and despite me wanting desperately to save her, my legs acted on their own. Still gripping his rifle, I ran out of that place, leaving her there just as like I did with Shane… I didn’t dare turn around… At the time I reasoned with myself that it was because I didn’t want to get caught by him. But I’ve come to terms that it was for a much more selfish and disgraceful reason instead…

I didn’t want to see her… the regret in her eyes, the betrayal of my actions… It should’ve been me, instead of her…

 

I didn’t see that place again. Not that I wanted to, but any signs of those houses ceased to appear on the road again. Maybe it was a mercy, maybe it wasn’t. It wasn’t long after I left that it started to rain. Its been months since then, and it hasn’t stopped. Though no matter how much it rains, the road never floods and the ground is never wet. I appreciate it now, though at the time I couldn’t wrap my head around why any of this was happening. It’s only after reflection that there is no reason to any of this, as it all exists whether I am here, or not…

The road was empty for a long while after losing her. I didn’t have any distractions as I kept driving in the pouring rain. I held onto the hope that she had survived and freed herself after I left- after I abandoned her. I held onto that hope for so long, even though in the back of my mind… I know that I killed her. I left her and she died due to my actions.

When I inevitably did find more of those things, I did my absolute best in attempting to take them down. Though bullets do not harm them, blunt force staggers them just enough. The few I saw were easy to deal with compared to him. I saved the last bullet from his rifle, storing it in a safe place in my Ute as I used it to bash as many of the dark things on the road. All that angered delivered in heavy blows against the things of the road. They didn’t stay down, but I found out a way to permanently deal with them after a fight with a smaller one at the edge of the road.

I had ran it off the road after striking it with my Ute, watching it tumble over, down to a narrow channel that edged the abyss. Seeing it near the edge gave me an idea, but I had to act quickly before it picked itself up. I gripped the empty rifle in my hands; the stock directed towards its’ sickeningly skinny body. I struck it hard, knocking it down, waiting for it to pick itself back up just to clobber it again. Each strike pushing it closer to the edge. It groaned with each hit, and for the briefest moment, I thought I could hear it cry before I knocked it over the edge. I don’t know if it actually made any noise, or if my ears were playing tricks on me.

I didn’t feel the need or the desire to kill any more of those things. After the one I sent over the edge I quickly lost the drive to continue, not just dispatching the things but driving in general. I found myself stopping more often, standing in the rain just to feel my clothes become soaked. The more I slowed, the more the rain started to clear, until it was just a faint drizzle.

Slowly but surely, I started finding people on the road again. Though they were far more unhinged than anyone I’ve seen before. While it was still raining, I ran into a woman walking on the side of the road. I didn’t even think of grabbing the rifle just in case before hopping out of the Ute. I hoped it was her, but what would I even say? How would I apologise? I didn’t need to worry about those thoughts for long though, because it wasn’t her.

She turned around, and instantly I knew that it wasn’t her. She had both arms, wore a white dress that was stained in mud and her hair was a frizzled mess with thick, brown clumps strewn throughout it. She limped along the side of the road. I only just got out of the Ute when she faced me from just beyond my headlights. Dried blood stuck to the sides of her face, and a fearful expression was permanently engraved upon her as she started to run into the dark.

“Wait!” I called out, “are you okay?!”

She didn’t answer.

I didn’t see her again, even after scouring the sides of the road. I couldn’t help but take it personally, like it was just the sight of me that scared her away.  The experience itself was haunting, though I wish her the best.

It wasn’t long after seeing her that I saw my own house on the road. My property sits in the middle of a well kept street, bordered by houses and green lawns, down here it juts off the road like an afterthought, the back veranda half hanging off the edge. There was something about it that was off, it was as if the place was missing something that stopped it from resembling a building. Some angles too sharp, some walls too slanted, just enough that made the place unfamiliar from my memories.

The inside was mostly barren, much like the houses we searched through before. Though in this instance, I felt the rooms around me overwhelmingly empty. The closest I can relate the feeling to is when you move out for the first time, seeing the rooms empty of furniture and souvenirs. That feeling lingered the whole time, and compelled me to stay to look for something, anything that might remain.

The rooms and layout were roughly how I remembered them, only far emptier and darker than I was used to. Not only that, what was inside and strewn about in the hallways and rooms were unfamiliar books, vases, cups. None of the things inside were things I remembered buying anywhere. It’s hard to describe how eerie it was, that unfamiliarity that made me feel foreign within the layout of my own home. Then again, it wasn’t really my home. My home was most likely cleared out, since I haven’t been back to pay bills or take care of it. I left it in the will to my sons to share, knowing them they would probably sell it though.

I left the place empty handed. I felt disappointed after leaving, I wasn’t sure why though. I think I wanted to find something at least a keepsake that would remind myself of the life I’ve lost. I stayed outside my Ute looking at it for a long while before leaving it behind.

The road has been empty for a good while now. The last person I saw was a few weeks ago. That guy with his beer, I tried rationing it as long as I could, but in the end it would all go eventually. I wondered for a while why he was so scared of me, though I didn’t stop to consider how dirty my clothes or vehicle was. No wonder he was terrified…

I forget when the rain stopped, all that remains now is a lingering fog that won’t go away. Makes it hard to see anything though. The living roadkill seems to be jumping onto oncoming traffic less and less as of late. I hit a kangaroo that looked like it had died twice already with how mangled it was. It jumped out and I swerved out of the way, only to just hit it on the corner of my Ute. Not only did it damage one of my headlights, but it also ruined my side-view mirror and even ripped the door handle off the passenger side door. Not that I need it now, but it hurts just the same.

We carry scars from every encounter, scratches and dents from every collision. We don’t need fuel, food, water or the sort, but we still bleed just the same. Little by little, we are whittled down until there is nothing left. It makes giving into the temptation even easier. I catch myself looking at the last bullet far often now…

I was saving it if I came across anything, otherwise the rifle is only a gloried stick. But I haven’t come across any of those things in a while. I said the road has been empty, but empty really feels like an understatement. There is nothing around me besides the road and my old Ute. I’ve been alone with my thoughts for far too long. What if everyone else is gone, and I’m the only one stubborn enough to keep going?

I parked up on the side of the road for a while now. Wondering if I should stop here, or keep going. I once again found myself staring at Shane’s last bullet. The metal casing felt strangely cold in my palm, no matter how long I hold it for. I saw myself reflected on the metal. I could barely recognise the man I saw; I looked beaten, battered and bloodied…

I locked the doors, so that nothing could get in. After looking at everything in my Ute for the thousandth time, I loaded the bullet into the rifle. Though I noticed when looking outside, that the fog was clearing on my left side. Just enough to see something out on the other side.

It took me stepping out with my torch to recognise that I was still gripping the rifle as I left. I treaded down the steep, dry channel as I shined my light. Standing at the border of the fog was that girl again, her ghostly white dress reflecting the light as if she were glowing. She turned away from me, so I followed her, calling out as I left my Ute behind.

I followed her for a while before realising that we hadn’t reached the edge yet. I had been walking for what felt like minutes, though the ground continued on. Though the mist obscured her, I managed to keep pace and followed her. Before that, I had never seen anything like it before. Surely it wasn’t real…

I kept calling out, she kept running, and I kept following. All until we came up to a small, clearing. The space was familiar, as we had passed it twice before. A long, almost infinite fence stretching out from both sides, and the gate containing the same message, unaltered and unchanged.

THE BEND

Though now, instead of dropping off into nothingness, there was a path. A dirt path that was held up by ground that seemingly floated on air. The ethereal hue becoming stronger along the path. I opened the gate, stepping carefully onto the path. I followed it for a long, long while. At times, all I wanted to do was turn back, but I kept going. Even though I didn’t have a goal or destination in mind.

After following the path for longer than I can remember. I came across something I never would have expected. That house again, the one I shot him in, the one I abandoned her in. There again on a small outcrop in the middle of nowhere. Not next to the road, not hanging off the side, nowhere. I wasn’t sure how much of it was real, or how much was my imagination. I would find out soon enough.

The house was fractured with large portions of it lost to the abyss below. I didn’t even need to get close to know that he was still there, but this time I wouldn’t turn back. I pulled the rifle close to my chest, readying myself for the trial ahead. Blood would spill, whether mine, or his.

I didn’t need to look far to find it, it was loudly thumping across the floor, climbing over the gaps, one particularly large one in the living room swallowed most of the room. The roof above had collapsed, leaving a hole straight up into the rafters as support beams bent towards the ground.

They hadn’t noticed me as I snuck inside, I had crossed halfway past the hole as I heard a soul shattering roar. One that sounded like three distinct voices. The ethereal hue from the hole below showed just enough of their silhouette. Jutting out from the tall, scrawny frame was a smaller, one-armed torso that jutted out from its once oozing side, the fleshy hole enveloping her body holding it in place.

The sound and the sight of it made me stop in my tracks. Only when it started to lumber towards me did I find myself moving quickly throughout the house. Evading its’ bloodlust as it crashed into the crumbling walls as I darted past each corner as quickly as I could. I was pulling the rifle around before realising how little good it has done me. Still, I made sure the safety was on before gripping the barrel and fore stock.

I climbed over the crumbling wall, trying to swipe at me. I swung the rifle as the stock made contact with its’ oily, hairy head. I attempted to swing at it again before it lunged out, pushing me against the wall and knocking the wind out of me. Part of the ceiling collapsed above us both. I threw some of the thin plaster at it, hoping to stun it for long enough to climb up the beams towards the roof.

I managed to make it up above the ceiling, the roof above only a fingers’ length from my head as I crawled towards the central hole. I climbed over layers of filth, dragging thick dust with each movement before looking over the edge. Down below, I saw it swiping at the walls, gouging at the drywall as I felt my weight put strain on the beams under me.

I whistled at it to get its attention, hoping it would take the bait. I tried tapping at the spots of timber leading down to the floor next to the hole. It noticed me, and as I predicted, started to climb the beam to reach me. I had hoped that If I could knock it off the beam, there and then, that It would tumble and fall down the hole. That wasn’t at all how things happened though…

The beam below me suddenly gave way, and I found myself falling for what seemed like an eternity. I was aware of everything around me, the bits of drywall and plaster falling with me, a dark hand trying to swipe at me, and the hole just below. In that moment, I thought I was going to fall into that hole, and keep falling until reaching whatever it is that exists underneath the road.

I braced myself as I fell…

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and fell…

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I hit the ground with a large crash, bruising my left side as I wearily picked myself up. I looked over to see it quickly approaching me. I could feel it swipe at me as I brought my arms up to defend myself. I feel my skin ripping as burning pain swallowed me, followed by the warm, wet feeling of fresh blood soaking my shirt.

The pain snapped me to my sense, I swung the rifle hard against it as I sent it stumbling back, the stock getting drenched in dark fluid as I landed blow after blow. Eventually my onslaught left it dazed enough that it was cowering next to the hole. The limbs from the torso flopping around in front of me. I saw red seeing the state of her body, I reached out and gripped on the limp limb and pulled as hard as I could. Its cries of pain weakening as I pulled her body out of him. The gaping hole that remained gushing dark fluid all over the floor, as it gripped its’ side desperately. With the last of my strength, I ran up to him and shoved him, sending him over the edge and flailing into the hole.

I tear off as much of my sleeve as I could, wrapping it around my wound to slow the bleeding. I look over at what remained of Julie, I kneeled beside her as what I saw was burned into me. All I saw that was sticking out of him was all that remained. Her head was completely missing, so was her waist and legs. She resembled more a lump of flesh than a human being now. As much as I didn’t want to move her body, I felt that she deserved a proper burial.

I walked outside and was greeted by a dirty channel adjacent to the road. The path and gate nowhere in sight. I pulled her out to the channel where the ground felt soft. Though I didn’t bring a shovel with me, I used some of the splintered wood to dig a shallow grave. It took a bit, but it felt like the right thing to do… felt like the least I could do…

My Ute wasn’t far away from the house. I sat in it for a good while thinking about everything, and writing this all down. My rifle is still next to me, and I’ve stored the bullet in the glove box. Out of sight, out of mind. I’m a bit worse for wear, but I’m still kicking. I’m not sure what is left for me. The fog has receded a lot, I can see a lot further now. While I can’t prove it, the road seems a bit brighter now as the hue is seemingly stronger.

I’ve written down everything as a way to help comprehend everything. I’m planning to leave my notes so that if anyone finds this, then they can learn from what I did, and hopefully not follow the same path as me. There will be reasons that will make you want to quit; there will be struggles that will make you want to give up. But if you need at least one reason to keep going, its’ that despite how bleak it all is, we can all hope for something better down the road. For me, that is a bottle-o. For anyone else, it might be finding something that you lost. There’s always a reason to keep going…