Deadly Epidemic - Chapter Two

Would you ever fall in love with a killer? Was that even possible? I wondered that as I stared at Russell's back. He was like a raisin in the sun, ready to dry up and wither up even more, probably into something hard. Russell looked into my eyes and smiled partially, "Do you want me to go into the grocery store and see if I can find us a feast for this evening?" I shrugged. "I don't care. I am happy with my freeze-dried food." I was rather bluntly cheerful for a zombie fighter.

He seemed rather peeved, "Well I am going to scrounge the food mart down the street. I'll be back...whenever I guess." Frustrated he walked off and I knew this was my cue to head upstairs. It was time to do some scrounging of my own. Preferably in the doctor's things. I went up the stairs to the rooms and went into his forcing the lock with a hair pin. When I opened the door, I smelled the smell of decaying body in the room. I looked around for paperwork, or his journal. I knew he had kept one. I had seen him writing in it the day before.

I spotted the leather-bound volume on the table beside his bed. I smirked as I opened it. I skimmed over the pages until I came to the entry a week before my sister's death. I was shocked at what was written on the page:

October 7th, 2008

I think she's onto me. She knows too much and has threatened my job too many times now. She has to pay. But how? Am I, as a doctor, capable of purposely taking a human life? I have never purposely taken a human life before and it is killing me to know that I must now resort into doing that. Her name is Carrie Byrant. I lust for her but I cannot touch her without getting the dreadful disease she has. She carries the HIV and it is deadly to those who catch it. I have no desire to end my own life right now. I am on the very verge of finding the cure that would make me famous beyond recognition. My wife says that she cannot wait until I find the cure. She just wants my money so she can spend it on those idiotic looking porcelain figurines from the drug store.

Too many times have I wished for her death by accident. It could happen if I really wanted it to. I don't love her like I should, or could. She has become a nuisance in my existence. I want her to die the most hurried way possible. If people knew the evil that lurked within the depths of my mind, I would be tortured into today's justice system.

But onto Carrie Byrant. I hate the little snit. She should have kept those beautiful lips of hers closed when she had the chance to. This is what happened and maybe God will forgive me. I went into the room and saw her lying on the bed in a state of disarray. She wasn't moving and her hair lay on the white pillow like a hallow around her head.

I looked at her and saw the breath in her chest moving it slowly up and down. The movement was regular. I stood there watching her for the longest before pleasuring myself. I then took one of the tongue depressors and stuck it inside her. It was the best experience I ever had in all my years....

I stood up and gagged almost. He had raped my sister with a doctor tool. How sadistic could a doctor get?! He was meant to love his patients and take care of them, not have some sort of sick lustful fantasies with them while they were under medicine. I wanted to cry. I wanted to weep so hard and then rip the doctors head off. I got up and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I went over to the table and laid the journal down. Two hours had passed and surely the doctor would be returning any moment.

I would finish the entry later. So it was true, he had killed my sister. As I came down the stairs he came in wiping what appeared to be juice from his mouth, "Oh my dearest I didn't know you were up. The hour is late. Perhaps you would like to go to bed I would have thought. Are you alright? You look quiet pale."

I gulped and sighed, "Forgive me please. I have been working out, doing some exercises of my own." He moved towards me and took my hand into his. His own was rather clammy and I hated the contact almost immediately. These were the hands that had killed my sister. I jerked them away as if I had been burned. He smirked at me, "You should go lie down, Virginia. You look as though you have seen a ghost." I was almost appalled by what he had done to her. To imagine the things he had done to her. I wanted to choke the life from him. No one would ever find out. We were the only two alive in this entire building.

It was tempting but it was myself who was battling for her soul. I had to save it and I wouldn't have his death on my conscience. Not by my own hands anyway. I nodded, "Uh yeah I think I should go and lay down for a while. I shall see you later, doctor."

I literally ran upstairs and found myself locking the door and bolting it. I didn't want to wake up to him standing over me ready to do the same. I found myself staring at the walking corpses outside my window. They were numbering now in the thousands. Tourists, and people of all walks of life were out there....watching and waiting for human flesh. How could I still find myself here in the morning? How was I to survive my time in New Orleans?