The Art Of Zombie Killing

The Art Of Zombie Killing [Chapter 1]

Chapter 1 

The beginning

-Seven years ago-

"Take my hand," Larissa sang quietly in her dimly lit bedroom, frustration replacing determination as she struggled to find the right pitch to the songs she sang. It seemed like that for her life, too. If she could, somehow, find that right tone to show her power, to explain what would become of her life, she would feel content.

"Take my hand and we will run."

Larissa released the notes from her lips and out into the open room, forcefully but slowly. Her voice had a different tone now and she felt the words differently and it didn't feel right.

Larissa let out a sigh in partial defeat, walking backwards to the bed that was behind her and the mirror she was facing, and let her body fall. Her room was plastered in pictures only he would remember, pictures from her toddler years. Pictures of a beautiful young woman with curly brunette hair, porceilan skin and smoky green eyes. Looking no older than 20; she was holding a newborn child. Larissa almost felt bad to have ripped such a beautiful young woman's life away.

"Nothing else... feels like this..." As Larissa halted her singing, she realized that with each passing moment, another moment will be spent with him taking advantage of her. She won't let it happen again, not like the other days and nights she let this go.

Larissa shuddered once and proceeded to make herself focus back in to her reality. Why did everything to come out of her mouth feel wrong? Had he demeaned her so much that the mere thought of something to make her feel in control left her to believe that she couldn't be?

She got up once more and looked into her body length mirror. Her short, brunette hair that curled at the bottom, with bangs, hugged her face unlike the woman she saw in the pictures. Larissa's face was slightly round with dimples that were prominent, even when she wasn't smiling. Fair skin and green eyes were the only thing her and the woman in the pictures had in common.

"Taking on seven years..." This seemed like the wrong song for her gentle voice but she didn't care. The constant feeling of days waiting for this moment was finally over. She continued.

"Test my arms, kick like crazy," Larissa sang to no one but herself, more power and enthusiasm in her voice. It's the sound that she was looking for; the sound that wouldn't make her afraid, wouldn't make her feel powerless.

She stopped suddenly when she heard the dreadful click of the doorknob turning and sprinted to the closet of her pink, cramped bedroom. Like she had planned, Larissa hid behind all of the hanging coats and other pieces of clothing she put in her closet. She had prepared for this occasion.

"Come out, my dear Larissa. I have something for you to celebrate your 18th birthday," He said gently before letting his disgusting laugh fill the room, making her nose crunch as if she had smelled something awful. With a hint of teasing in his voice, he continued to prod Larissa out of her safe spot. 

He stepped up to the closet and began moving clothes aside. Larissa grabbed the large kitchen knife that she had placed in there for this moment and gripped it tightly behind her back. He had no idea, and he wouldn't until she was through with him.

The evil man smiled triumphantly at Larissa's false fright when he finally found her, congratulating himself by roughly pulling her out by the hair and fiercely undressing her. She dropped the knife without his knowledge and felt a lump build up in the back of her throat.

She would study him in better light; at the dinner table or in their tiny garden in the back yard. She could tell that his facial features were very ugly and annoyingly chissiled, making her want to vomit every moment she spent looking at him. The toned body of this man was something that many females would be caught staring at and aweing over, but Larissa knew the true horror behind his daunting blue eyes and she hated each and every woman that enjoyed him.