The Evolution of Dakota Graves

Revenge

I open my eyes to see myself tied against the chair, the undead's groans never seem to fucking end. I haven't shut my eyes since the past hour. All I ate was a bag a fucking corn chips.

I look at the mirror, my black hair was tousled, my knuckles are bruised from beating up Daxton, my eyes had bags under them, and I had bruises all over my face. My skin is paler and my scars are starting to show on my neck and face.

Hannah....she didn't deserve this. SHE DIDN'T.

I yell hysterically, hoping I get a chance to kill Cecil. It's probably been hours, why am I alive? Why do I deserve to live.

God....bring her back....or take me with her.....I could care less about the pain I go through.

I long for a cigarette, I long for my pills, I long for Hannah most of all....she was my only family.

The door slowly opens, Daxton steps inside, closing the door and sitting in the chair across from me. He was the last person I want to talk to.

"Look Dakota...I'm sorry about your sister." He tries to say, I glare back at him, he inches away for a bit.

"You're gone. You're not fighting anymore." Daxton says.

"As much as I want to apologize....this is your fault." He adds.

"I know." I said, letting a smile grow across my face.

"I'm a shitty brother. Nothing but shattered glass, I thought I could glue the pieces together...but no matter what...I still get cut trying to fix everything. I'm a terrible man." I admit.

"And why is that?" Daxton asks.

"Because of the things I'm going to do to you." I add.

"I'd like to see you try." Daxton says.

"No, just wait." I said grimly.

Daxton chuckles. He had that low ass annoying chuckle. The chuckle that makes me want to cut his balls off and make him walk on shattered glass.

"You're all talk Dakota." He says, shaking his head as he leaves the room.

Soon as the door shuts the only thing that comes to my mind is revenge.

A box of matches was on the table, I use the chair, scooting closer to it, I manage to get my hand free from the ropes by pulling a knot, I grab the box, hiding it in my pant pocket.

I look out the window, besides the undead pressing at the fence, I saw tubs of gasoline. I'm gonna set this bitch on fire. Then save Daxton for last.

The door opens again, Daxton slams the door after two guys walk in behind him.

"You're under my power, my roof and my authority-understand?" He asks.

I stay silent.

"Men, take him back into the room, take him outside for a bathroom break within fifteen minutes." He orders, a bag slips over my head and I feel myself being lead into the room I practically lived in.

"Wait for a minute, I'm gonna get your break over it." The guy mumbles before taking off the burlap bag, I look around, nothing but a table and pipes that lead to nowhere.

"Fuck." I mumble.

I turn around, waiting for the fifteen minutes to pass, it was already dark outside so they won't be able to find me. I wait until the door opens again, as I get escorted outside, I reach inside my pocket, there were only two matches.

As the cool air beckons me, they walk back inside. I look around. I'm in a abandoned factory.

I can't think about that. What's the fucking point?

I run to the other side of the building, crouching down. I grab the tub of gasoline, then I pour it around the corner, backing up. I use the other gallon of gasoline, pouring it outside the wooden door. I grab the matches I found, setting them off and throwing it into the puddle of gasoline.

It takes only a split second for the fire to spread, it started on the door I climb inside a open window, our weapons are here, I grab my glock-no ammo.

I open the drawer, quickly reloading my magazine into my gun, then I grab my switchblade, the fire gets inside, people begin running. I hop out the window, running to the fence, I watch as the undead break inside, groaning and moaning, I run to see Cecil staggering out, he looks at me.

I see red.

"Fucker." I groan, running after him. The undead is busy being distracted by the fire to notice us running, as we reach the woods, I catch up with him, tackling him onto the ground. He tries to yell but I put my hand over his mouth, he bites into it so hard it drew blood, I could feel my hand burn as I yelp in pain. He tries to get up but I pin him down, using my weight to overpower him. He grits his teeth.

I don't want to just kill him, I want to make him feel the pain Hannah and I felt. I wanted him to feel every single last bit of it.

I grab the huge rock from near the tree, I hold it up, his eyes widen but I swing it into his eye socket, blood slowly spilling down his dome, I kept clobbering the rock against Cecil's head until his heart stops beating and he stops putting up a fight.

I pant heavily.

A roamer staggers towards me, I use my switchblade, pulling it closer by the collar and stabbing it by the head, I run down farther into the woods and as I didn't look back.

My legs ache and I soon hope for a flear road where there are no roamers around.

They deserve it. They fucking deserve it...

They tortured my sister worse than they tortured me. And for that, they had to pay.

No more kissing ass, no more getting walked over. This ends tonight.