Chapter 22

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I can't take this anymore, this is worse than dying.

I had been down in the basement for a few days, rarely going to hunt. During the night I would simply lead Crawlers to the humans with the smell of blood, and during the day it was so hard to find prey in the middle of a Canadian winter.

I had pretended to take the sleeping pills each day, and, almost like clockwork, the man and woman came down to check for any new injuries and sometimes changed the bandages on my arms and neck. Thankfully I found a spot in the rafters where they couldn't reach me, so usually they weren't able to do more than make me extremely uneasy.

I didn't want them to know I was aware of their plans. I still didn't know what these plans were, and if they ended up being something I really didn't want to get involved with, I could feign indecision and escape in the night. I had no idea what I was going to do now, if I was nearing my breaking point already.

The problem was that my Crawler legs were healing, they were regenerating over time, like always, and the bandages around my torso grew tighter and tighter every day. I had to assume the reason they were taking so long to heal this time was because of all the other wounds I had. They were too thick and strong to break out of yet, and they were getting painfully tight. It hurt to breathe and I could barely walk for more than a few minutes without needing to stop. I was reaching my limit. I felt like a piece of twine holding up a concrete block, that any moment I would snap.

I was planning something I would probably regret, but feral instincts were clouding my mind, and pain was driving me mad. I was still trying to suppress my instincts, and I had been until now, but it was getting harder and harder to shut them down. I was worried they were starting to overpower my human mind.

I took the pills from the pack and hid them again, my hands were starting to shake and my teeth would chatter for no reason. It wasn't like before where my jaw would chatter with emotions, it would just start and stop, start and stop, at random. A few times I had woken up after biting my tongue whilst chattering in my sleep. I stared at my quivering hands.

I stared at the pills. Why was I still doing this? I was a top tier predator, the highest on earth, I was made to hunt humans. They were torturing me, like those gangs did. Trying to break my mind and drive me insane, but they were doing it all wrong, all wrong! I could still fight, I was not averse to attacking them, I would show them why you never keep a Crawler captive.

I heard the humans come down the stairs, the shaking slowly spread to the rest of my body, isn't this what withdrawal was like? My eyes darted around the room. What was I looking for? Right. The humans. Wait, they had come into the basement already, why had they not come into this room yet? They know, they know I'm awake and they're going to kill me. No wait, they said they weren't going to, they needed me. But then why weren't they talking, they always talked when they were in the basement. The only sound I could hear was a ringing, a buzzing noise that wouldn't stop.

I had to run, they were going to kill me. No, I couldn't, I was too hurt. But couldn't I just hide in a building with my Crawler legs? No no, they were broken and I couldn't extend them, they were all tied up, Megan tied me again didn't she? I guess I did scare them a lot.

Travis did this, he attacked me and tried to kill me, made me get this badly injured so he could trap me down here. But, wait, wasn't that Raven? How would she do that? Travis has a gun, she's just Raven. A harmless friend I met while we were running away from a Crawler where Daniel died. He fell against a tree, he must have died.

I looked around, my vision was filled with black spots, the shadows contorted and spun, the walls looked like they were warping, as if the building would collapse at any moment. I felt like I was going to black out, like my mind was being submerged in inky blackness. I could swear the ringing was getting louder, making my head spin. I tasted blood, and I realized I had bit through my own lip while clenching my jaw shut.

I can't kill a person! That's murder! Wasn't there a virus or something turning people into zombies? Or was it bugs? Is there still a law against murder then? No, there wouldn't be any laws, so I can kill them for capturing me and blinding me. Shouldn't I just try to escape then? No, no I had to teach them a lesson. They tried to kill me for some reason too, so it would be self defense, right?

These people found me and tried killing me, they locked me in a basement and are crushing my ribcage to try and break me. They're trying to suffocate me, I can't breathe. I need to get out. They're going to feed me to the zombies!

I have to kill them.

I saw the door open, it looked like it was jittery and fluid, like it was blipping out of reality much like my own sanity. I clenched my fists tightly, standing up off the floor and staring at the humans, or at least I think I did. I want hiding this time. I let out a snarl of rage and pure, feral instinct.

THEY HAVE TO DIE

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