No Rest For The Wicked (Edited/reworked)

'This is interesting,' thought Levi, prodding the head that snapped at his finger. The impossibility was not lost on him, but it took more than a sentient decapitated head to rattle him; though he wasn't far off.

He heard a startled voice and turned to see the officer he'd saved. As far as near-death encounters went, he looked in fine spirits. At least if you ignored the shell-shocked expression and worrying pallor. 

"How?" he asked, agape at the feisty head Levi held. 

"Sure, let me check my dictionary for, 'shit that makes absolutely no fuckin' sense.' Ah! Would you look at that? I have no fuckin' clue," he snorted out in a deep southern drawl while he let the head drop to the floor, a wet squelch as his boot crunched it underfoot. A sloppy soup of flesh and cranial fluids squirted onto his boots and trouser bottoms, a momentary regret filling him; especially when he heard the officer retch and the sound of puking ensued.

"Did you have to do that?" the officer asked a few minutes later, his voice hoarse. 

"Nah. Just wanted to," Levi replied, with an amused smirk. Noting his ruddier, but disgusted, and gave him a slap on the shoulder. "Brighten up, at least you're still alive to throw up. More than I can say about some of these fuckers," his foot kicking a decapitated body on the floor.

"What about Jack? Is he alive?" the officer asked, Levi's gaze wandering to the still body of the other deputy. 

The man's face fell when his eyes also settled on his partner. His hands slipped in his own vomit as he scrambled to his feet, and ran over while muttering to himself. 

Levi followed, flicking the blood off his sword and using his shirt to clean the remnants from the blade. He scrutinised it for any nicks, and with a self-assured smile found nothing; deftly sliding it back into its sheath. 

He observed the officer sobbing over his companion covered in blood before he whistled getting his attention. "He's not dead if that's what you think. Hell, besides that sprained ankle and maybe a concussion, I'd say he's fine. All that blood's from when he knocked himself out."

"Really?" he asked, voice anxious.

"Watched it happen myself. And my eyes ain't never wrong," his tone filled with unquestioned confidence. 

It wasn't long before the first cops arrived and things started to get under control. But with the return from insanity came its own set of problems. 

People who hadn't been seen before then clamouring as they got from their cars to demand answers. For one, why somebody was walking around with a deadly weapon. And two, how to handle said citizen decapitating two people in the middle of Longfellow Bridge on the highway.

When he first saw the gazes staring at him, he knew he should have made himself scarce, but pride and belief he'd committed nothing wrong kept him there. That didn't stop the police from taking his sword, slapping him in cuffs and putting him in the back of a police cruiser.

"I hope you don't take this bad. We appreciate what you did. Rudy told us everything," said the cop driving, the eyes in the wing mirror unsure of what to make of Levi. Who ignored him, and was looking out the window at a couple of billowing plumes of smoke. "Told us you saved 'em both. Said they'd be goners if it weren't for your... Well. Well, I'm not really sure what it is you did," he looked away. "But I saw what was left."

"I don't care. You've still arrested me, what's there to talk about? " Levi said, his voice icy. "I'm sure I'll have a real blast in the big house, imma send you a postcard and all."

"Though I'm sure I'll have a better time than you'll have out here," Levi added, a mirthful smile on his cruel lips. His eyes narrowed at that.

"What's that supposed to mean," his previous tone replaced with guarded hostility, Levi's smile widened and he pointed at the plumes of smoke in the sky.

"You know I've always been told that despite my many talents, my greatest has always been my intuition. My pops, god rest his soul, knew it as well. And he damn made sure, that I learned to," Levi said, the man's eyes scrunching in incomprehension. "And right now it's telling me, compared to what I had to deal with earlier you're gonna have it a hell of a lot worse," the officer's eyes shrunk, and looked over at the smoke in apprehension. "But I suppose, you already guessed that."

As far as ideas went, antagonising the officer bringing him to jail wasn't his brightest. But he'd shaken him enough with his words that his mind was occupied. So he was booked, searched, and shooed off into a cell with zero trouble; which all things considered was better than he'd expected.

At least the man had all but confirmed what he'd suspected, that what had happened today wasn't no one-off. He'd thought as much when he saw the reaction of the officers when they arrived. Although they were shaken, it was more than the brutality. It was something more existential. Of spotting a familiar ghost you were aghast to see again.

But for how far it went, he didn't know. Though he had his own guesses. It was hard not to when people were attacked, killed, and five minutes later got back up transformed into raving lunatics.

In the car, he considered catching up on some sleep in the cell until they brought him for questioning. That idea went out the window the moment he walked in. The whole building was alive with frantic energy. The dispatchers kept answering calls, while officers ran in and out of the building responding to calls. The prisoners picked up on it and hollered for answers from those who walked past. 

While it only affirmed his guess that something was happening and the police were scrambling, it also killed any hope of getting sleep. Ideas circulated, but within the cell confines, there wasn't much he could do. So instead, he leaned against a wall and closed his eyes resigned to bide time until he was released.

Hours passed, and with only the artificial cell lighting it was hard to tell how much. There wasn't much to break the monotony besides the yammering of the prisoners and the occasional new arrivals. 

He'd gotten two himself. They weren't great company. One was a thin and gangly man called Eric, who was content to hide in the corner shaking like a willow branch. And the other was a tattooed brute, whose name he never got. Levi had found him less agreeable. He entered, proceeded to give Levi the stink eye, got in his face and in short order got knocked out.

Officers didn't burst through the door and restrain him like he'd half expected, and instead, the man had lay out cold on the floor for some hour or two now. It seemed those cameras flashing in the corner were more for show. That or they had bigger fish to fry. And as it turned out, it appeared to be the latter.

Levi didn't know when the first distant screams or gunshots had started, but by the time the first gunshots sounded outside his cell, he'd long been on the ground behind his cellmate's unconscious body. Shouts and screams abounded, the shooting unceasing at a foe unseen from behind the cell walls. 

Twice he felt his body shield, in front, shudder, Eric letting out sharp breaths behind each time. The whole time muttering about someone called 'Rose', and promising to high hell he'd give it all up if he survived. 

It was several minutes before the sounds got further away, and several more before Levi finally felt safe enough to get to his feet. 

No surprise the man he'd used for cover was dead. One shot to the liver and another to the lung. He doubted he'd be missed, he certainly wouldn't lose any sleep, but still gave a silent thanks for tanking two bullets that might've killed him. 

Eric was fine, physically at least. His eyes though, now reminded him of the local evangelicals that used to go door to door when he was a kid, proselytising the joys of the 'good book'. A newfound purpose burned within those eyes. Near-death experiences were always a great motivator.

Outside the cell the floor was slick with red, a few corpses sat in pools of their own blood. Hunched over a few, were several figures who ate at the remains. As much as he loved being proved right, this was one of those times where he wished he wasn't. Because the implications did not bode well for him. Not one bit.

"Hey, open the cells," Levi heard someone call out to his left, making him step out of sight. The agitated gnarls followed moments after, then a scream, before consecutive thuds sounded against metal.

Levi looked back out and saw the figures had moved, and guessing by the ruckus were harassing another cell. He contemplated for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he nodded with certainty.

Under the confused gaze of Eric, he walked over to his dead cellmate and pulled his leg straight pressing his boot in the middle of his shin. *Snap!* One clean jolt and he'd snapped the shin bone, the jagged edges perforating through the skin. The sound invited the presence of a couple guests who soon appeared in front of the cell door.

"Oh fuck," he heard Eric groan but ignored him and applied more pressure, manoeuvring the bone until finally, he managed to get one jagged shin bone free. He didn't stop there and kept his bloody task going until freed another jagged bone, and let out a breath.

He wiped his slippery hands clean on his shirt, before doing the same with the bones. After he held the two bones and tossed the smaller one to Eric, who horrified, dropped it to the floor. "Pick it up, or don't. I'm not the one who'll get ripped apart if they get caught," he said, as he walked towards the growls at the door.

They were ugly fuckers. Pale skin, painted in networks of blackish blue veins and had hazy yellowing eyes that wouldn't be amiss on the blind. Patchwork scratches and wounds covered their bodies, and oozed brackish blood, looking almost infected.

He rattled the bone against the hatch, fueling their agitation. When he saw the first head bite at the opening, he thrust the bone forward, the bone slipping in and out of its eye socket. It sagged to the floor, and Levi repeated it two more times until he could no longer hear more of the creatures.

"For those that can hear. Things aren't looking good for us. Unless these doors open, we're trapped," shouted Levi, his voice carrying over the pin-drop corridor. "So I'm asking for something. It might seem stupid, but it could be the only thing that might give us a fighting chance." 

"I need you to make as much noise as possible," he finished letting his voice linger for a moment. "We're trapped, and whatever's outside can't get us. So we draw them in, everyone goes quiet and I'll take them out one by one," the sound of footsteps now faint in the distance.

"Did you kill the ones here a minute ago," he heard a baritone voice shout out. A smile formed on Levi's lips.

"That's right," Levi replied. "The way I see it, the more we attract and thin them out the more chance there is for someone to open the cells," the animalistic growls closer now.

"Here! Come and get it! I'm here, you sons of bitches!" the same baritone voice thundered, soon a melody of other shouts joining in. The previously quiet corridor now alive with both the sounds of the living and the dead.

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