One thing you have to understand about me is that I hate the sight of blood. Very squeamish, can't handle it. I don't know how I held myself together for as long as I did, maybe it was just the shock of everything that had happened. It was shocking, though. What that janitor did to that poor girl, it was gruesome and horrible.

Nevermind, that's done and over with.

...

I was serious about skipping this part though. I don't want to... But... Fine.

I burst through the back door, not bothering to look behind me as I turned and ran towards the rather empty area I had parked my my car. Being an out of town teacher, I had learned that most teachers walked to school. That meant no obstacles to get to my car, but it also left nothing to the imagination when it came to the screams.

It was chaos when I did turn. ~~It was~~ ~~I can't describe~~ It haunts me. The sight was horrific, like something out of a horror movie only so much worse because it was real. That didn't hit me at the time, I think, or else I would have reacted much differently. There were maybe two dozen men and women garbed in torn blood soaked clothing, and some were even missing limbs, and yet they easily caught the terrified teens and teachers as they panicked. They sunk their teeth into various spots on their prey. Most people kept running, and I feel disgusted to be one of those people, knowing that nobody even tried to help.

I guess us human beings can be pretty fucking terrible when we want to, huh? But I'm not here to talk about the humans that will most likely never read this, just this one pathetic human being known as me.

That initial slaughter hit me hard, and if not for the very real danger of death, I might have broken down right there. As it happened, I had a wife to get home to and children to pick up from the folks.

"Stay strong." I whispered to myself, shuddering. "Stay strong for them." I got in my car and started it, hitting the gas and trying to tune out the screams from around me.

I shake my head, trying to clear the images of the children from my mind. "So many people, dead. Because we were too cowardly to save them. Even one..." Unexpectedly, I chuckle. "I deserve this. I deserve everything I got."

Twilight stares at me with a worried look on her face. "I'm sorry, I understand what you've lost, what you've been through. Maybe we should--"

"Do you?" I snap, gritting my teeth. "You've watched dozens of people die in a matter of minutes? Hundreds?" My vision starts to blur with tears. "You've lost the people closest to you because you weren't good enough to save them?" My voice cracks and I yell "You've lost the people you swore to protect before they were old enough to even understand what's happening, all because the person you've loved more than anything," I gesture to my left hand, or the stump in its place, screaming, "took that chance away from me!?" I break down, sobs wrack my body. For some time we sit, the only sounds are my sniffling.

Finally, she breaks the silence with a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"No." I look up at her, sighing. "You aren't sorry until you know what happened."

I drove the fifteen minutes in silence, my dead stare fixed on the road ahead, which was devoid of any signs of life. The sky was grey, the clouds a darker grey as a signal of rain to go along with the gloomy day. Every so often I would pass a dead body, some moving some not, or I would hear screaming in the distance, or I would see a car stopped on the side of the road, abandoned for whatever reason. The machine gun fire started when I pulled into my driveway.

I practically leaped from the car in my haste to confirm my wife's safety, rushing to the front door and hoping it was open so as to not delay my set course. The neighborhood around, thankfully, was devoid of any signs of unlife.

I opened the door slowly, poking a head in to quickly scan the hallway. At the end of the hallway was the shape of a woman, leaning against my bedroom door.

Stacy! I shut the door behind me, calling out to her. She turned, revealing the long object poking out of her chest, a kitchen knife. She stepped forward, into the light cast from the windows to reveal that she wasn't my wife, but rather my neighbor. One who had a tendency to borrow my gardening tools and an even greater tendency to not return them. Her orange hair hung over her dead eyes and bloody face, the right side of which was torn apart by what could be either a bear or a tiger. Or, as it turns out, a dead person.

Her blouse was torn open, revealing the hole in her side, the blood that had once dripped down her side was black and caked to her skin, the blood inside similar. She gave me no more time to look as she shuffled towards me, groaning as though in pain...

Or in hunger. I'll go with the latter.

I took a step backwards as she lunged, pushing her sideways into the closet door. Pinning her to the door, I spot the blade of the knife poking out through her back. I must have pushed it through I grabbed the blade, pulling it the rest of the way through her body with a sickening squelch, grabbing the slick handle firmly with my hand.

Holding her against the closet door as she thrashed, I searched for anything that would make the act easier to commit. With a smirk, I said, "This is for not returning my hedge clippers you bitch." I plunged the knife into the back of her head, stopping her thrashing almost instantly. She went limp, falling to the floor and taking the knife with her.

I took a deep breath, shaking my head in disbelief. That's when I heard a sound in the master bedroom. I quickly ran through the kitchen, grabbing a cleaver from the drawer and another kitchen knife, just in case it wasn't my wife.

When I reached the bedroom and opened the door, I knew something was off. The lights were on. My wife never left the lights on, because... Because...

I pause, causing Twilight to stare up at me with a look of half curiosity and half concern. She tilts her head to the side quizzically.

I smile grimly, shaking my head. "She had a thing about not leaving things on without using them. One of her big pet peeves, along with country music and jello." I chuckle, "To this day, I still don't eat jello."

Twilight rises to her hooves, stretching her wings. "If you want to take a break..." She begins, but I shake my head.

"No, I have to say this now or I'll just snap again." I take a deep breath and try to hold in the tears, I barely do so. "She was leaned against the dresser, blood running down her arm as she held the bedsheet to her neck. She was staring at the mirror, not even noticing when I ran up to her. I tried to move her, but she pushed me away.

"'Honey.' She whispered, taking one of my hands in her free one. 'The kids...' I tried to tell her to not talk, but I was drowned out as she started to cough violently, blood splattering on the mirror. I again tried to help her move, only this time she fell to her knees. I was panicking, I didn't try to understand why I ran to the closet, grabbing the hiking bag from the top shelf and pulling the rope out of the black bag. I don't remember what I wanted to do, maybe tie the sheet to her neck or something.

"'Stop worrying about me!' She said, louder than before with much pain in her voice, 'I'll be fine! Be happy... For me, please.' I turned, dropping the rope and rushing to her side. Taking her hands in my own, I started to cry. She slumped over, the life fading from her eyes. I bit back a sob as I sat there with her body for... Minutes, Hours, I'm not sure." I almost start crying again, but I hold back.

Finally, I stood and turned away, shaking away the thoughts. As something brushed my left hand, a thought hit me. If all these things look like zombies, act like zombies, does that mean..? My thought was cut off by her teeth sinking into my hand, biting clean through three of my fingers in the one swift motion. I pulled away, kicking her as I fell back onto the bed, right onto the cleaver I had brought with me."

"My mind rushed a mile a minute as the pain made me very much aware that my dead wife had bit me after dying from a bite.

"On a hunch, I grabbed the cleaver and bolted across the room, scooping up the rope and running into the bedroom, past my groaning wife. I locked the door behind me, and fell on the floor next to the toilet."

I tied the rope tight a few inches above my wrist, positioned the cleaver on my wrist, and raised it. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, but as you can see... It worked out" I sniffle. "I brought the cleaver down in one swift motion. My hand rolled to the floor, I fell back against the bathtub, screaming in agony and grasping my wrist. I pulled my shirt off, wrapping it around the newly formed stump. I bit back another scream as I stared at my hand and watched as in mere seconds the blood dripping from the wound turned black, the flow becoming akin to syrup."

"Then I passed out, and when I woke up I didn't hear banging on the door. I had survived, narrowly." I look up to see Twilight brushing her hoof across her eyes.

"I'm so sorry." She says, placing her other hoof on my hand. I accept the gesture, though I shake my head.

"Don't be. She hated when people were sorry for things they couldn't control."

Author's Note

Guess what song I got the title from and you get a cookie.

So, the story is not maddeningly depressing like it might seem at the moment.
It might not seem like it, but it does get more lighthearted.