It's Not Our Fault

Chapter 11

                                                                                         ~Frankie~

I don't know why I'm here. 

I don't know what I did wrong.

I didn't do anything wrong!

So, why the fuck am I in a cell, with the leash on, with the same nightmare poison being injected into my bloodstream! I can't even try to fight the shadows surrounding me. My hands cuffed, and the poison undid the numbness that my turning caused. I'm losing my mind. I'm falling into a void, and there's a godawful screeching that won't  fucking shut up.

Oh, wait. That's me. 

I try to stop screaming, so I can concentrate, but I'm not in control. I'm not in control...but that's not that bad, honestly. If I'm not in control, I can rest. My screams become background noise, and if I'm not in control, that's not my body, the shadows aren't attacking me. Then I'm just a backseat driver. So, if I let the monstrous side of my mind take control, I can escape without a scratch. 

My hands are moving, but with minimal effort on my side. But zombie-me doesn't know how the leash works. I pull one hand out of the cuff, and try to pick the lock on the other, but give up halfway through. I need to get out, and fast. 

I look at the chain that connects the cuffs. When I get out, the chain would get in the way. I help grab the chain, and pull with with all my might. It snaps quickly, and only the other cuff remains. I pull it off with ease and grin. As soon as it's removed, I stands up and walk over to the door of the cell.

I take a look at the human on the other side, but I don't see a human. I see prey, a target to be destroyed. The target in frozen in fear, and I almost feel bad. The target backs away from the door, face pale in fear. I breathe out deeply, then begin to laugh. These pathetic humans thought they could take down the empire? When they flee when faced with a single zombie? 

My smile is so wide it's practically a grimace.

I turn slightly to the side, then slam my shoulder into the door as hard as I can. A large dent blooms, making me chuckle in appreciation. Backing up again, I hit the the door again, and I hear the hinges creak. I can feel their flesh ripping under my nails already. I can taste them. As I kick at the door, the hinges squeal in protest, and my laughter morphs into guttural snarls. I run into the door one final time. It flies off it's hinges and and I began sprinting down the hall at full speed.

All I can do is drool as I plunge my hand into a man's sternum. I rip his chest apart as if his skin was wrapping paper, and his skeleton was a lovely gift. A small voice in the back of my minds yells, begging me to stop, or to slow down so I can regain control, but I ignore her. I excitedly attack the other human, the blood making me euphoric. The humans scream louder, but I am stronger. I will always be stronger. Why are humans so weak? This is why the empire will prevail.

The target that was watching me in the cell shot me, but the drug from the leash has worn off, and mt nerves can't feel anymore. I kick another target across the room, and shoot the pathetic creature with it's own gun. The target who shot me is panicked, and firing wildly at my back. As I turn to kill it, the tinny voice of reason recognizes the target.

Claire.

I want to stop. I want to stop I have to stop I don't want to hurt anyone else-!

But I'm addicted to the taste of humans, and I have a mission. So I disarm the target, and begin to kick her as hard as I can. Claire passes out, and I keep kicking her. As I grow tired and heavy with regret, the door to the warehouse opens and humans flood in.

My conciseness slams back into my body, and human soldiers all point their guns at me. As I frantically try to explain that it wasn't me, that it was the infection, a strong arm wraps around my neck, restraining me. I can tell by the smell that it's Sam, and I go limp. I close my eyes, and give in to the blue. 

I feel cuffs on my hands, but I don't fight. The blue is softer, and I can smell a library, feel cotton cover my body. I want nothing more than sleep, but I know that it won't come. Instead I relax into Sam's hold, and feel my skies turning lilac.

Only to for my veins to be injected with ice as a needle slips into my neck and I fall.

Important A/N

Hey y'all. I know I've been MIA for a while, but I'm finally back! I temporarily abandoned this account, but I've returned finish up my stories and posy whatever the hell I feel like. I will be taking requests for oneshots (sfw or nsfw) if anyone contacts me, and will be be getting back on a proper schedule. Thanks for sticking around!

-Laz