My heart beats faster and faster, as though it can escape me, soon I almost mutter aloud and yet she sees, one of the many and if she thinks I can turn around and face the rest of them as her voice breaks through. “How about today, Mr. Berton” Ms. Everard tutted, how she surely must have gone into the wrong profession, but who better to teach a man about life and death but a woman but this was Math.
How long have I been staring at her, could I count the breaths that I missed and apparently I must be missing a brain, I must be the Tin Man, minus the ax as well… one more reason I couldn’t turn around. Her eyes as brown as the dirt I wanted to bury myself under, was I not one more dead man and yet it’s dead things that make others grow, as hard as the board I haven’t touched in ages, please let me just hack away and build a coffin. Yeah but my heart won’t allow it, or that’s what I keep telling myself, fighting to stay alive though I was already in Hell, though nobody would know it with my complexion but hers?
The dead can be monsters, lucky for her, though I could see the rivers of red run along her tanned cheeks, the small scars healing as though she met a beast long before me, though her soft pink lips called me anything but her worst nightmare. “Mr. Berton” she cried as she walked over to me, her black top barely containing her but it could be worst, if it were her heart I was after, and then men chase skirts, the tigress’s one she was wearing, no I would instead trace the black heart tattoo along her cheek or the designs along her wrist. Surely she must be crazy to approach me, killing me like this or bringing me back to life, I would choose the former rather than face the class once again in this state, I just couldn’t.
Saved by the bell, as the class began to leave, my backpack not big enough to hold me, no EMT’s or coroner’s to pronounce what I already knew, was it wrong for me to even wish for a cop, death might come that much quicker. No, I wouldn’t need that, as Ms. Everard, cautioned “see you tomorrow,” now honestly I am no track star, but I am surely going to give it a chance as I ran out of there as fast as my feet cared to carry me now.
If I didn’t see her, her, or even her, why was I still going to school if my only job prospect was looking at the ground, knowing the moment I looked up, I would be knocked off of my feet, better to find the whole now, get it over with.
Better a cabin in the woods than being eaten alive, a careless whisper, a kiss, the scent of perfume, there was no fighting this, I wanted to believe, as I scurried along, call me a coward, or worse one of the infected. Rage, at them, at myself, hell that’s what I felt, but it’s nature, even the animals that have no concept of it, knew it, and here I thought people were supposed to prefer the privacy of their own homes. That’s where I was headed, maybe I could attribute my sickness to anything but the butterflies in my stomach, though I doubted even Noah had the problems I was feeling running through my veins.
No, they will not make a monster out of me, idle hands being the devil’s playthings and all but I didn’t have anyone to call, no money to spend, and while violence was far more accepted, it could never be condoned. If I could be like the cool kids, I could probably get a drink somewhere, maybe I could smoke something, it might even make me that much braver and live or die, it wouldn’t matter in the end perhaps.
Some idiot laughing on the ground and the pretty girls’ laughter brings him back to life, and he’ll only fall down again, for her I suppose or she for him, why don’t I find more joy in my immunity to all of this? Sickness is never a good thing, and that’s what the world would make of me as I ran that much faster, I must look like a lunatic and if only they knew they would have me committed by sundown. Why couldn’t this all exist in the dark, that’s where the monsters were supposed to come out and play, but where was I headed now, there were no bright lights where I was going if I kept my computer off of my obsession.
I would make myself a sacrifice for the good of the world, the sole survivor but to what end, and her’s, had God chosen to curse me so, as I stared and in the next second wondered who put that pole there as I crashed.
Light as a feather but only a board, was written on one of the books she carried but she did not stop, perhaps I was already a ghost, and none of them could see me, even if she was attuned with the spirit world as her library would suggest. It would make sense the way I was haunting her, some might say stalking, others would make me out to be a creep, nobody ever saw me until far too late.
Not good enough for Heaven and not bad enough for Hell and yet I was surrounded by angels and the devils that would have them, if but a word from me, after all, a ghost still needed a place to haunt some nights. It would explain a lot, I didn’t eat much, nobody ever heard a word I said, well at not women and some women loved to pretend that I would jump out at them when they least expected, it’s like being an alien only that beast would be my heart crawling its way out of my chest. Just it wouldn’t be today if I could make it back to my haunting ground without any more bruises or scars.
At least that’s how the guys saw me, maybe I was surrounded by ghosts or angels, and every guy saw me as a necromancer, I was paid to bring girls to life, and those men got to “love” them, I could be the grim reaper. Only it was grim I would ever see that girl again, her burgundy hair, those greenish-brown eyes, her snow-white skin, clad in black top similar to my teacher’s and blue jeans that would have to be peeled off of her slowly. Much like my dark skin if I ever got the chance, she was probably looking into the tarot now, coming up with a million reasons why we couldn’t be together in some way maybe.
I could help her out with that, but I will be damned if I was chasing after such a beauty like the beast I could not choose to be for the life of me, or for the life of her, and that was one million and one if she could hear me. We didn’t belong together because I was already dead or would be I imagined all the more as I saw my reflection in a puddle, yes I decide what I was going to be or was, a zombie.
Some zombies were only interested in brains, others were connoisseurs of the flesh, and while I could admit there was something about brunettes, I was not picky from wanting a dark-haired single mother, to a girl interested in the next realm. Still lacking my brain, why else would I feast on or find any thought I had elsewhere and not on the tip of my tongue, I must be starving.
Werewolves would lock themselves in cages, vampires had one coffin, but what could hold a zombie, the cure would be a million times worse than the virus, the ground may not change on the path, but these people were walking obituaries. Feasting upon each other time and again, some for their whole lives, and they pitied me… maybe they were right, but I accepted what I was a long time ago, and how dare I take somebody with me, zombies have mobs, as for me… I wanted to tear her apart, but I wouldn’t turn around and follow my black magic woman, I wouldn’t taste those juicy pink lips, bite or even nibble upon her.
Too many people had taken bites from my brain already, no wonder I couldn’t remember what it was to be like them or at the very least what I pretended to be because what I was could not be allowed anywhere. Let the disease run rampant all over the globe, I would run, I would hide, better than being one of them, no never, I kept telling myself, until I turned blue in the face, but I was so close to the house now. A zombie that would not bite, because no the world did not need more of me running around and I’m sure there were enough women that wanted to blow my head off for a few reasons.
What kind of monster thinks that; not a zombie that’s for sure they fear nothing, most monsters don’t, but there is something that is full of fear as I ran faster and I saw her standing there waiting to be let in. Have I had it all wrong, as I was clad in my black hoodie with matching jeans and boots, staring at the brunette vixen, cleaning supplies in hand, not that it would be enough; am I a psycho?
I’m only a man, and there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide now, but she was just the maid, not that I would think of her in such simplistic terms, not with a body to die for, the thought kept replaying in my mind. My would-be prey who was making sure to clean all the evidence of her arrival, she would be all that was left for me, the only picture taken in her soft brown eyes, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and the matching underwear I bought her for Christmas once.
A psycho was always prepared, only there were no axes, no playroom, not a respectable torture device to be had, gloves, machete, or a chainsaw, and they say that humans are made in the image of God. While I still wasn’t a believer in such the things I wanted were less than holy without a doubt and would damn me for all eternity, well damned if I do or damned if I don’t, so why was I the one backing away looking to get out. She was only a girl, but any would-be man would tell you that can be the scariest thing in the universe easily; witch, siren, succubus, and yet somehow here she was on her knees keeping me at bay easily enough.
“Is there anything else I can do?” Kaelyn asked, probably reading my darkest intentions as she hurried towards the door, but my hands were shaking as I reached out to hand her the money and she was on her way, safe and sound. As I was lying on my bed, throw in alone, and all would be well except for the knock on my door, Kaelyn forgetting something I wanted to believe but there was nothing there and everything, it was in the air. My next question should have been how did all these ladies get in my house and taking hold of me, but I didn’t need to ask who they were, Aphrodite runs deep these days; if anything I should be flattered but terrified would have to do.
“Who do you think you are,” Cupid asked me, already there was an arrow pointing straight at my heart, as the women held me down and telling them I was a Titan might be the wrong answer as I was surrounded by these gods and goddesses of love. “Now you take the time to find me” I grunted, as they moved forward hungrily, staring at everything that womankind chose to ignore forever and a day.
“Our worst nightmare” Eros chuckled, putting two fingers to my forehead and suddenly I was filled with visions, broken hearts as far as my eyes could see, I indeed was one to be despised so why bother to apologize. On the other hand, they owed me that much and a lot more but what made me think they were interested in me as a person, not when I saw those fangs and claws come out.
Finally, my hands were traveling to the loveliest of places, of course, they were ripped from my wrists, with all sympathies to the Devil, no more worries for any of these gods jobs at this point as I found my voice. I screamed as I felt their jaws, their claws tearing me apart piece by piece, ripping into me, my final love letter and it was being written in blood, or is this why they wanted me all along. Even now I couldn’t help but find the beauty in even this or at least one part of me continued to believe so despite being made into a buffet for over a dozen or so gods of old, that didn’t understand that love has now changed.
I could have even been one of them I sighed or was that my last breath as my heart was finally stolen and Aphrodite smacked her lips holding it in her hands announcing then “I Love The Way You Run.”