Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 93: Hit Like A Girl

Chapter 93: Hit Like A Girl

I heard the sound of the front door closing before the soft scraping of footsteps made their way to my bedroom.

I was sure that for most people, it would be impossible to hear Ghost walking, but for me, it was so loud it might as well have been elephants walking around.

When the sound of footsteps was an indication of a beating, after a while, your entire body became in tune with them. Even now, I can’t stop my heart beating in time with each muffled sound. I wasn’t nearly as scared right now as I was before, but my body was still conditioned.

The sound of my door opening was almost as silent.

"They are gone," I grumbled, sitting down on the foot of the bed, my arms crossed in front of me. "You can drop the act. Even if you aren’t tired, I am."

Ghost entered my room, causing it to become almost frigid. There was something inside of him, something unclean, that was using his body. Every instinct that I possessed screamed for me to kill him, and it...

But why bother?

Ghost was nothing more than a dull tool used by a dumb idiot. He thought he was the one in control, but that wasn’t the case.

"If you know what is going to happen, why let them go?" demanded Ghost, coming to stand right in front of me. The inky thing of whatever was inside of him seemed to stretch out of his pours, trying to touch me.

To contaminate me.

"Why would I willingly let them walk into danger?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "Tank is too sweet and naive to ever consider the fact that you would betray him. To see it firsthand would kill him. I hope you have a good excuse for what is to come next."

Ghost chuckled, taking my elbow as he guided me out of my room. I hated the feeling of his touch against my skin. It made me remember all the times I was touched when I didn’t want to be... where I didn’t want to be.

"Or, maybe I’ll just kill you, and he’ll never have to know."

"You seem oddly protective of someone who has killed more than three hundred people. And that was before the world ended," sneered Ghost, tightening his grip on my arm.

"So?" I asked, not sure what his point was. "Killing people doesn’t make you the bad guy, and saving people doesn’t make you the hero."

The world was never black or white, right or wrong. It was only a matter of perspective. Tank could kill 10 thousand people, 10 million people, and I would still think he was the sweetest person in the world.

He was mine. He could do no wrong as far as I was concerned.

"I wish you the most painful death you could ever imagine," I said, my head held high as Ghost led me toward the elevators. "I wish the first thing to happen to you is for your tongue to be cut out of your mouth so you can’t tell Dante or Tank your role in this. I wish you death by a thousand papercuts."

Ghost scoffed at my statement, but I heard the woman in my head accepting the deal. The blood that I spilled next would be my sacrifice for this wish if it were needed. But I would rather Dante and Tank continue to think that Ghost was a good guy than someone who betrayed them.

"And then I wish for whomever you sold your soul to return to Hell where it spawned from. I wish for it to be imprisoned in the deepest of circles, those reserved for the betrayers. I wish for it to pray for death, only to be denied from now until the day that Hell is no more."

"You know that wishes aren’t real, right?" asked Ghost as he leaned forward to press a button. "If they were real, then Jacques would be alive. At least I now have the power to survive the coming days. No thanks to you or a stupid wish."

Only half paying attention to what he was ranting about, I stared at the lit button on the control panel.

Huh, the basement... it was so overdone for torture scenes that it was cringy. Then again, I guess the basement would be better than the rooftop. That place would be too cold right now.

I was okay with death, just not the cold.

There was silence in the small box as we continued dropping one floor at a time, the bright lights with numbers teasing me as I approached my death.

Hopefully Hell was warm this time of year. O City was now going on three weeks of snow, and I was done with the cold.

A light chime, and the doors opened to a very familiar scene.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," I growled under my breath. Ghost pulled me toward two pillars encased with chains. They were the same pillars and chains that Dante had shown me from his nightmares.

A small part of me wondered if he realized that he had built his own torture chamber.

Taking in a deep breath, I didn’t bother to fight as a second pair of hands pulled my right arm closer to the pillar.

"Antoine, I presume?" I smirked, turning my ’gaze’ in his direction. I refused to look through their eyes. I wouldn’t mock my own death by watching it through the eyes of my killers. I was born in darkness. I lived most of my life in darkness. I would die in darkness.

"See, I told you she can see," growled a deep voice beside my ear. My arm was jerked even harder as the cold metal chains dug into my tender flesh.

"I don’t need to see to know it’s you," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I can smell you just fine from here. You are the only person I know who still insists on wearing cologne. And not a good one."

The slap came from out of nowhere, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as Père’s. "I would like to say that you hit like a girl, but I am pretty sure that Jennifer could have hit harder than you."