Shrine Of The DEAD part 1

"Does anyone like that deserve love!?" she practically bellowed, her voice becoming nearly hysterical.

Takashi stared at the purple-haired girl, shocked to the core. It was astounding to see Saeko Busujima of all people sounding on the verge of a mental breakdown, but after what she had just told him, how could he expect anything less? He'd figured that there was something in her past that had caused to her freeze up the way she did when confronting those undead kids, but he never could have guessed anything like this.

When she first started telling him of her past and how she was attacked by some pervert the streets, he had been horrified, thinking she was going to tell him that she was raped. But then her story had taken off in a completely different direction, where she revealed that she knew she had the upper-hand against the man and feigned fear and helplessness, only to turn the tables on him and beat him to within an inch of his life.

He felt no sympathy for the molester, and would have congratulated the swordswoman for successfully defending herself and delivery a well-deserved punishment on the pervert, but upon revealing the sheer delight, the absolute total pleasure, as she had so put it, to have hurt the man so violently, that had shaken him a bit. Who would have guessed that the seemingly perfect Saeko Busujima was carrying around such darkness inside her?

But he also recognized her burden. Saeko was a good person, anyone could see that. She was kind and compassionate, but deep down, there was a sadistic pleasure she got at hurting and holding power over others, as she discovered when she attacked her attacker. She recognized and accepted that part of herself, but she also feared it. She didn't want to hurt people, she didn't want to take pleasure in it, but she couldn't help the way it made her feel.

Was it any wonder she felt herself undeserving of love? She acknowledged her darkness, but she viewed it as a handicap of sorts. She saw herself as this dark creature, a monster, and she feared that others would as well if they knew what she was really like. And she had carried this fear with her all this time, trying to keep her darkness in check while hiding it from the world. But it seemed that she could no longer keep it to herself.

Now he recognized that situation with the zombie children for what it was. She had been afraid of what he would think of her if he saw her taking such delight in cutting down those kids. They may have been children that were Them, as he and his friends had taken to calling the zombies, not wanting to use the actual words for what the walking corpses actually were, but they still were the bodies of children. And what sadistic freak would take enjoyment in killing kids, even undead ones?

He would, he realized. It was something he hadn't really thought about until now, but had gradually become more and more aware of ever since the outbreak had started. With hundreds, if not thousands, of Them walking around, trying to eat any living thing that crossed their paths, there was no way to avoid killing them, not if you wanted to survive. But as the days went by, and he put down more and more of Them, he began to find that he was enjoying what he was doing.

It was survival, sure, but he enjoyed it all the same, and he almost found himself grateful that the world had taken this dark turn. He got a sick thrill out of putting bullets in these zombies' heads, of crushing their skulls with his bat, of running them down in a car.