Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 369: Strength

Chapter 369: Strength

Apparently, while I was away, the house did a bit of decorating. Where it once looked like a haunted mansion, the columns on the front porch were now covered in vines and blooming purple flowers. Entire sections of the bank between the foundation and the moat were covered in the moss Selene had called Death.

The purple and red flowers moved back and forth happily, dancing in the soft evening breeze. Even the handrails on the bridge were now covered in different vines. Some had flowers, others had thorns, while even more looked like mini skulls, the jaw open as if laughing.

"I see de house likes de jungle," said Ronan, his fingers reaching out to lightly brush over the skulls. However, the second he touched it, a four-inch thorn tried to impale his hand. "But de jungle no like us."

Shaking my head, I took his hand and kissed the tips of his fingers. "I like you," I whispered to him. Rising up on my toes, I dropped his hand and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down even further. This time, I kissed him hard.

"That’s all I need," grunted Sloth, looking out at me from Ronan’s eyes. "The rest of the world can go fuck itself."

Humming, I kissed him again, before slowly pulling back. Resting my cheek on his chest, I felt myself relax. The house was back, everything was fine. Life was good.

"Ugh, guys," muttered Beau, calling to us from the front door. "We might have a little problem."

My legs went weak, and I collapsed in Ronan’s arms at Beau’s announcement. Biting my bottom lip, I refused to cry. But having everything that I could possibly want and need right in front of me, only to be denied entry, was a little more than I could take at the moment.

I honestly think that this was the most vulnerable I had ever felt in a long time. It was like I was made of glass, and the slightest wrong move was going to send me shattering into a million pieces. I was exhausted, hungry, and in desperate need of my house.

So why couldn’t I go in?

"What’s the problem?" demanded Chang Xuefeng as he strolled past me toward the house. He paused for a moment to stroke my hair in reassurance before continuing over the bridge. Climbing the stairs leading to the front porch, he reached out and placed his hand on the knob of the door. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t open it.

At least the house hadn’t sent him flying like it had me on the cliff.

"Let me try," grunted Désiré as he approached behind the Angel of Death. When the Sin of Lust turned the knob, it opened easily.

"What the fuck?" demanded Beau. Stepping up to the threshold, he stopped suddenly. "Why won’t it let me in?"

"I don’t know," mused Dante, cocking his head to the side. When he raised his hand, expecting to be stopped just like Beau had been, he found that he, too, could easily enter the house.

"So the house hates me?" demanded Beau, his eyes narrowing in anger as they flashed orange.

"I don’t think it’s that," announced Tank as he was stopped from entering. "Désiré and Dante have both completely merged with Hattie and their demons; therefore, the house let them in."

"But you don’t have a demon inside of you," smirked Beau, looking the hellhound up and down. "Does that mean that you’ve been kicked out of the Queen’s bed?"

"Like you’re one to talk," replied Chang Xuefeng, going to stand beside Tank. "You have a part of Hattie’s shard, and yet you haven’t offered it back to her. At least if we’ve been kicked out of Hattie’s bed, so have you."

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged out of Ronan’s arms. "It doesn’t matter. I decide who is in my bed, not the house." Walking across the bridge and into the house, I looked at Désiré and Dante. "And right now, I need sleep and food before I need anyone in my bed."

Spinning around, I went upstairs to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.

I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

-----

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Tank, blinking at where Hattie had disappeared up the stairs.

As if to answer his question, a piece of paper fluttered down from the ceiling of the porch and landed in his hands.

-Get Stronger

Dante looked over Tank’s shoulder at the two words.

"We have our orders," he sighed. Leaving the house, he dragged Désiré behind him outside and down the steps.

"Why do we need to get stronger?" asked Beau, following reluctantly. "We are already strong enough."

"Are we, though?" mused Wrath, his eyes glowing in the sunset. "Cause I don’t feel nearly as strong as I used to be."

Dante simply shook his head, not bothering to comment. To him, strength wasn’t a matter of physical strength. When he read that note, the first thing he thought about was not how well he could fight, but how well he could lead.

After all, he had once been one of the most feared me in the underbelly of Country M. Now, he was nothing more than one of ten men chasing after their woman.

If the house wanted him to be stronger, he was going to have to figure out a balance between giving Hattie what she wants and needs while staying in control of the situation.

"Figure it out on your own," announced Dante, his eyes narrowing at the darkening jungle. "Either way, be back before the sun rises. Don’t get hurt, don’t do something that will make Hattie worry."

The rest of the men nodded their heads. Something had shifted; if they wanted to stay beside Hattie’s side, then they were going to have to get stronger... whatever strength looked like to them.

Splitting up, each man went in a different direction, their backs straight with their new purpose.

----

Tink watched the ten men walking back over the bridge. Some of their heads were high, while others were lowered. Either way, the men were completely lost in their thoughts.

Twitching his tail, Tink pushed himself out of the moat and onto dry land. If the men were going out hunting, then so could he.