webnovel

Wither With Me

A deadly disease. The world has ended. Civilization has collapsed. Cities stay silent, barely a remnant of times past, humanity's broken legacy. In this dark and ruined world, Nora tries desperately to survive. Not only for herself, but also for her friend Claire and her little sister Lilian. She struggles to overcome her own weakness. She struggles to run away from her own inner demons. She struggles in a world that gives no second chances.

Uncle_Narga · Horreur
Pas assez d’évaluations
59 Chs

AMANDA

"It's been a while since I came to visit you, hasn't it?"

"I've brought some acquaintances with me this time, I hope you don't mind them."

"Have you been okay? I know, I know, you're hungry… I wish I could feed you, but that wouldn't be too safe for me, would it?"

"Everyone has been dealing with a lot of difficulties lately, but we've been pulling through, you don't have to worry about a thing."

"How I wish I could speak to you again, honey…"

The basement was in complete silence, only broken by William's intermittent monologue. His voice came out in threads. He didn't expect a response. He knew there was no response to be had. In a way, he was only fooling himself. Desperately clinging to a phantom of the past, feigning conversation with a remnant of something that wasn't there anymore. He knew there was no point to it. But how else was he meant to keep his sanity in check?

Amanda's vitreous eyes twitched in the relative darkness of the room, staring at him and piercing his soul. Was there anything left of her original self behind that lifeless gaze? Could that thing still be called Amanda?

Her jaw made feeble attempts to open itself, emitting a faint wheezing in the process, almost impossible to even perceive. William looked at the ragged piece of cloth hanging from her neck. He had initially planned to gag her as an additional safety measure, but he gave up midway. He couldn't bear the thought of silencing her. Not her.

A single tear dropped from William's eyes. What a surprise. He thought he didn't have any more of those left. Although, in all honesty, he shouldn't have been surprised. Even if he was a cold and composed man, always keeping his own emotions for himself, Amanda was able to see past his inner walls; she always had a special way of opening him up like a book, reading his contents page after page, and cherishing every single word within.

It seemed like, even in undeath, she hadn't changed at all.

After watching her for a prolonged period of time, memories of the recent past started making noise in his head. Painful memories he'd rather had kept buried.

######

The flare emitted a blinding light, enveloped by red smoke. The distant sirens blared endlessly, carrying a foreboding sense of doom. Desmond cried his heart out, crumpled on the floor. William's senses were overwhelmed, overloaded by that sudden influx of information.

Not giving him a chance to collect his thoughts, gunshots came from the floors below, followed by multitude of screams. He didn't even try to apply rational thinking. His legs moved on their own, plunging him downstairs, as the realization of what might be going on started to sink in.

'Shit…! Shit…!!'

His partners, Richard and Elijah, equally flustered, chased after him.

"What's going on!? Where did those gunshots come from!!?" asked Elijah.

"Get your guns ready!! The meeting hall…!!" said William, unholstering his pistol.

The trio hurriedly made their way down to the fifth floor, then to the fourth floor, then into the hallway. More and more screaming and yelling flooded the building, coming from the direction of the meeting hall.

The three of them turned a corner. They froze in place, weapons ready. The hallway was full of people. Unknown faces. Most of them armed with either handguns or bladed weapons, in front of the door leading into the hall. Judging by the noise coming from within, they were inside as well.

William was pretty sure many of his comrades in the hall were armed as well. Why weren't they fighting back? He collected himself and got ready to open fire. It was then that he noticed one of the invaders holding someone at gunpoint. During that instant of doubt, his little group was spotted.

"Over there!! There's more of them over there!!"

The strangers turned in their direction. William got a clear view of the hostage.

'Is that… Benjamin…!?'

Benjamin, a usually strong and hard-working man in his fifties, had gone down with a severe fever some days ago, and had ended up bedridden. The man holding him was unusual, to say the least. Fairly burly, half-bald, with messy beard and dirty clothes that made him look like a beggar. His face exuded nothing but ill intent.

How? How had they managed to pull off something like that? It was like they knew exactly what to do, when to do it, who to target, where to go.

[H-Have you ever done something you deeply regret…?]

'Desmond…! Is this your doing…!? What the fuck is happening!?'

"Drop the weapons, boys; or his brains get blown out. You choose." ordered the man holding Benjamin hostage.

Benjamin's face was bright red, and it wasn't because of the fever. He looked like he was trying to fight back, but his captor was exerting too much pressure around his neck, enough to almost choke him.

"Fuck…! W-William…!? What do we do…!?" Richard was starting to panic.

"Damn it...! Alright… I'm dropping the gun…!" Elijah slowly crouched down, and placed his pistol on the floor.

'Come on, think, think… How the hell do we get out of this one…?'

William's mind struggled to analyze the situation. Opening fire was not an option, not with the lives of his comrades at stake. The cries coming from the meeting hall unnerved him. There was a high possibility that someone might have gotten hurt already, and he'd rather not think about it yet. Was surrendering his only choice?

"Too fucking slow. Just get it over with already." said the thug holding Benjamin.

As soon as he was done talking, a barrage of bullets rained down on William and his partners. He felt a stinging sensation on his left arm, like a jolt of electricity that went up to his head and then shook his brain. His hands spasmed, causing him to drop his weapon. He screamed in pain.

Richard howled as well, holding his right leg and losing his balance. His clothes gradually started to get a deep red tint around his abdomen, and he coughed up a spurt of blood. His leg wasn't the only thing that was hit. Elijah didn't even scream; he simply dropped, limp, like a rag doll.

"They're down!! Rush them!!"

"Aargh…!!" Richard's hand clumsily held on to his weapon, returning fire with abysmal accuracy. "William…!! Run…!!"

And he ran. Not because he was scared, not because he was a coward, but because even his most primal instincts were aware that staying would only lead to a meaningless death. Those people didn't care about survivors, they didn't care about hostages. It was war, and they only had eyes for the spoils.

In the infinitesimal period of time he had before the enemy inevitably cornered him in his own home, he assessed the situation. The fourth floor was compromised, including the fire escape access. The fifth floor's exits were covered with big metal hatches he probably wouldn't have time to open, and even if he did, he would be a sitting duck while descending the ladders underneath. The rooftop was a dead end.

The only place he could go was down.

He rested his back against the heavy metal door. The sound of the gunshots was still ringing in his ears, made exponentially more deafening by the confined echo of the parking lot. He had no other choice but to seek refuge in the armory room. At least the door was sturdy and thick enough to stop a bullet.

He couldn't see what was happening outside, but he could hear it. Many sets of footsteps, reaching up to the door and wandering around the parking lot. Several voices were talking among themselves. Someone started banging on the door from the other side.

"Open the door, asshole! Your friends will suffer if you don't!"

William observed the shelves and cabinets in the room. All full of weapons and ammunition. It was no wonder that they wanted to get inside. That one place was probably their main target since the very beginning.

It didn't really matter how much firepower that room had. He wouldn't be able to take them all on by himself, and certainly not without getting his comrades killed in the process. He kept his hands away from the lock.

"It's okay. Let's give him what he's asking for." another voice coming from outside, a voice he had already heard before. It was the unhinged-looking man that held Benjamin hostage a moment ago. "Let's see… Yeah, you'll do. Bring him here." more footsteps got closer to the door. "Alright, do you have anything to say?"

"Fuck you, that's what!! William, don't open the door!! They'll kill you if you do!! Stay in there and—!! Agh…! Guuh—!" Daniels talked to him from outside, but not for long. The swish of a knife cut him off, followed by a wet slicing sound, and then gurgling.

"Well, he started giving bad advice quite quickly, didn't he? That's fine, there's still a few left."

William clenched his fists, his teeth, his heart, his soul. His friends were getting murdered in cold blood, but what was he supposed to do? If he did nothing, they would all die. If he opened the door, they would still all die, but including him as well. The agonizing hopelessness kept him frozen against the door, listening.

"Hey, Jacobs. Why don't you try with one of the kids? Don't you think that might shake him up a little bit more?" another man gave a twisted suggestion.

"Heh, you sick fucker… Alright, bring the brat over here."

'Don't you dare… Don't you dare…! Pieces of shit…!!'

William had always considered wishful thinking to be a waste of time. Ironically, that situation was making him look like a fool under his own principles.

"Stop!! You monsters, stop it…!!!" Emma started screaming. She sounded quite far away, as if she was being held at a safe distance. "It's just a child!! At least spare the children…!!!! N-Noo…!!"

A crying voice, blabbering unintelligibly in between hiccups, approached the door. It was a boy, so it had to be the little Alex.

'Why…? Just why…? What's the point…!?'

"Still won't open the door? I'd love to spend the entire night playing hide and seek with you, but we're kinda in a hurry." said Jacobs.

A couple of seconds of silence went by.

"Alright… I don't know if you're understanding me correctly. Fuck, I'm gonna kill this kid, you know?"

"Have it your way."

By the time he heard the knife slicing cleanly through the flesh, William was crying in silence. He felt powerless to do anything. His body was overrun with savage impulses, the impulse to grab the biggest gun in the room and go on a suicidal rampage, hoping to take at least one of those homicidal psychopaths to hell with him.

"Nooooo!!!! Let me go!!! Alex needs help!!! Oh my god…!!! How can you do this!!!? Aaaaah!!! Aaaaaaaahhh!!!" Emma kept screaming, overcome by maddening grief. Other people in the room joined her, crying and swearing at their captors.

"Okay, bring the loud woman over here."

"N-No…!!! Noooooo!!!! Aaaah!! Not me…!!! H-Help…!!! Let me go!!! Somebody, help…!!!"

"William, is it? Alright, I'll tell you exactly what's happening right now. I'm opening a plastic bottle with soma nasty red gunk inside. Do you feel like guessing what it is?"

Jacobs waited for a while before continuing. William didn't say a single word. He refused to be coerced into speaking by that psycho, he wasn't willing to give him that pleasure.

"Yeah, yeah, you guessed it, congratulations. It's shambler blood. And now, I'm dousing my knife with it. Do you know what will inevitably happen when this stuff pierces her beautiful skin?"

A muffled stab was heard, and the entire basement of the building was filled to the brim with a desperate scream of pain. The picture William got from the other side was of nothing but excruciating agony.

"Aaaa-aaaghhhh…!!! N-Nooo…!!!"

"Take her upstairs and dump her outside."

Emma's wails got farther and farther away, as she was dragged towards her grim fate. Jacobs let out a sigh.

"You're one cold-blooded motherfucker, I'll give you that. But you know what? So am I. Next, that chick over there."

William had enough. He could no longer contain his rage. He turned around, his hand reaching the locking mechanism in a frenzy.

"Honey…?" a very familiar voice talked to him from the outside, stopping him in his tracks.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Amanda…?" he finally spoke. "Amanda, is that you…!? No… No, not you…!"

"Ooh… Is this your wife? Man, this one will be good." said Jacobs, almost chuckling.

"Amanda…!"

"Shhh… You're doing what you need to do, honey. Like you've always done."

'Stop…! Please…!'

"You're going to survive, won't you? You're going to k-keep going! Just like you p-promised!" Amanda's words were irregularly cut off by her sobbing.

'I never promised that I'd survive! I promised that "we" would survive! We'd get through this together… Both of us… Both of us…!'

"H-Honey…? I love you. Please… don't open the door."

William's memory was hazy after that moment. He remembered the sound of the knife plunging into her beloved's flesh. He remembered her cries of pain. He remembered his own screams, his hand closed tight around the door's lock, but unable to go any further.

And there were more screaming afterwards. And more crying. And more screaming. Until the screams were no more. Until all that was left was silence, and the stench of blood and death.

######

"I almost gave up, you know? I was close. Very close." William was sick of dwelling on his memories anymore, he started talking instead. "Every day, I would go to that room… our room. It still had her smell… I could still hear her voice… I could still see her face on the mirror… I asked myself: what's the point? I pondered over the shotgun, more times than I can count. I would put the barrel under my chin, but I could never pull the trigger… I guess I just wanted to fulfil her last wish. She wanted me to survive, to keep going forward. But… Did I want to survive? Did I have a purpose?"

William stood up from the chair, and turned around to face Nora and Claire. They were both staring at him and at Amanda, with shocked looks on their faces.

"When you all showed up out of nowhere, I thought I would give life another chance. Perhaps you'd lead me to something worth living for. But I never stopped asking myself the same question, over and over again: what's the point?"

He looked at Amanda over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed, almost closed in their entirety.

"This thing isn't Amanda. I know it very well. And I know she'll never be Amanda again. I cling to the possibility of a cure, even though I'm fully aware it's a fool's errand. But if there's something in there, something left of what she used to be… I want to fight to get it back. No matter what it takes."

He walked closer to Nora, who was sitting on the floor. He kneeled down in front of her and stared her in the eye. She opened her mouth with hesitation, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

"Listen… Lilian might be Lilian right now, but what awaits you at the end of the road isn't Lilian. You said that you don't want to live in a world where she's gone, didn't you? Let me tell you something, that's a very precarious boat you're riding on… and there's a bottomless waterfall ahead."