I Can't Take It!

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       I.....I just can't keep doing this anymore!  Every time that I travel from group to group in this wasteland, I just end up being knocked down or beaten by some...thing!  and every group that I decide to help out here in the wasteland just end up dying off!  All because of me!  I....I just need to try to calm down.  This isn't the first time I've had spilled blood on my hands.  I just need to think back to what happened.  I was still on a trip down the old Route 66 road, heading down with my group towards Los Angeles.  We hoped to find refuge along the West Coast, but we were ambushed.  Another pack of survivors ambushed us in their cars and had us forced off on the side of the road.  They popped our tires on our vehicle and forced us off of the road.  In the open and desolate desert, we were left with two options:  give up our supplies and die of starvation and dehydration or to die and they take our supplies anyways.

      Our group's leader, Ron was very hesitant to make the decision, as he knew that being left to die was not something that anyone wanted.  Our captors were less patient than Ron was and decapitated him with a large machete.  Ron's head fell over silently with fear and frightened everyone in the group.  The main speaker for our captors began doing the same with the other members.  No one wanted to give them anything, but no one wanted to die, so he began to do the same with the others.  Two of our other members were beheaded before one of our members tried to run for it, and was shot in the back of the head.  The noise awoke some zombies in the distance and they began to make their way towards us across the desert floor.  Our captors decided to take our supplies and run, laughing the entire time they did so.  Their vehicle was full of food, water, and ammunition, so they obviously took pleasure in doing this, and had already robbed other people.  They enjoyed victimizing us and made sure to leave us nothing to survive.

      We were left with nothing and a horde of zombies on their way to eat us.  We did our best to fend off the zombies, but everyone in my group ended up being eaten by those undead creatures.  I barely escaped with my life and continued on foot down the highway.  I was a valuable asset, as I am the only person alive who has known immunity to the zombie plague, and I needed to make it to Lost Angeles.  There's a research center there that could make use of my resistance, but what good is it now?  There's nothing left, the only people left out here are ruthless thugs, and no one here is worth saving.  I've also noticed something too.  Ever since I was first bitten, I've been having moments where I black out, and I wake up to a pile of dead bodies, with claw marks on them or slashes from a knife.  I usually find a blood-covered knife in my hand.  A rage or something comes over me and the people I know and care about are dead.  And after they left me and my new friends to die, that rage overtook me again.  Only this time, I could actually see what was happening.

       I had control of my body or my actions, but I began to run, not just run, but sprint after that car.  It was too far in the distance for them to notice me, and I was gonna only get close enough to see them.  I would wait till nightfall to strike.  As nightfall came and they stopped off on the side of the road with a campfire, I slowly made my approach on them, making sure to not disturb the very ground beneath my feet.  I trekked slowly through the shadows behind the campsite, and before they knew it, I was upon them.  I went for the executioner first and stabbed him in the back of the head with my long knife, his deceased skull sliding slowly off of the blade.  The others were shocked by my presence, and one of them spoke up and revealed their reason for terror.  "His eyes are completely green!"

      One of the other members screamed out a phrase that made my blood run cold, but didn't stop my body from moving forward, "He's a walker!  Kill him!"

      My body moved forward in a long arch and jabbed one of the members in the neck, the next person I stabbed was the biggest member of the group.  He received a quick stab to his frontal lobe and fell backward from the force of the blow.  The blade was brought to my lips as my tongue reached out and felt the warm, hot blood be spread across it.  After the blade was licked clean, my body lunged forward and stabbed the sniper of the group in the left eye, his body being forced down onto his seat, slumped over in immediate death.  The final person to die was the "brave soul" who had ordered the others to kill me.  I stood over his cowering body, still incapable of stopping the horror that ensued on in front of me, trapped inside my own body and incapable of looking away.  "Please, please give me mercy!"  I wanted to stop myself more than I wanted to live, but a terrifying thing happened when my body spoke in a powerful and terrifying voice.

      "You deserve no mercy.  ONLY DEATH!"

       The blade was driven directly into the man's chest, and my body didn't stab him only one.  It carried on from one arching blow to five, to seventeen, and finally ended after seventy stab wounds that left the man's rib cage a bloody and fleshy mess.  My body stood up and exhaled out, with my eyes facing towards the star.  "Every time you lose your anger and lose control of yourself, I shall surface."

        I asked in fear just beyond my own body "Who are you?"

        "I am your protector and savior, Jericho, and you will do ask I say if you want to live."

        I was overcome by fear and turmoil that I agreed to his demands.  And with that, I had regained control of my body.  The experience of being outside the control of my own body had ended, and I was left to take up the supplies and continue towards Los Angeles before he left my body he ordered for me to take as many supplies as I could and to continue on foot towards the research institute.  I've been walking for the last two days since that event, but still have enough food and water for another week.  I decided to get this off of my mind and to write everything down in my notes.  There's a car coming down the highway now.  I remember how Jericho told me to travel on foot, likely to ensure my safety.  It's an SUV with a man in the passenger seat and a woman in the driver's seat.  I'm gonna raise my thumb and hope they take me.  Hopefully, I can reach Los Angeles before Jericho kills again.

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