Submission deadline for this month is...
feelings are meant for the week
Anonymous /  Wed, 20 Apr 2022

This story was a submission to our March 2022 Short Story Contest.

Another scream ripped through my raw throat as I continued to try and rip apart the chains holding me ,hoping that this time they would break. unsurprisingly they didn’t. My sobs bounced off the steel walls. The doors slammed open as sirens started to go off and people started to flood into my little confined room.A year ago I would have begged them to have a heart to have compassion, but I soon realized that it was a useless feat. Because monsters had no hearts. They were soulless. A disgusting stench assaulted my nose as they dragged the rotting corpse out of the room after years of it being there with no sense of remorse.

I should cry or scream or yell, maybe be terrified. But I couldn't because I realized the only way to survive was to have no feelings. Years ago when I signed up for this stupid thing, me and and my friend thought it would be a way to stay safe from the virus. That they would inject us with a cure they found to get rid of the monsters that people have turned into, in the world,but now hear we were cold, starved, tortured, only difference between us is that I am still alive, when shes being dragged out. Because she was weak.

As the second in command ordered all of them around, they followed with no hesitation, as if they didn't have a mind of their own. When their leader came to stand in front of me, I had to try my hardest to stop myself from flinching. The smell was wafting off him straight into my nose, it made me want to puke, when the lights turned on and I once again got a clear unwanted view of him. He was tall, probably around six foot yet his intimidating build made him seem much taller than he truly was. He had black slimy goo coming off him almost as if it was melting off of his flesh and burning away the last human pieces of him.His voice hit my ears as a muffled sounds, It vaguely reminded me of when the teacher in charlie brown used to talk. His teeth were yellow and green, rotting away and falling out. He was truly terrifying. It made sense why he was the first to get affected when the new virus came around, he was the weakest witch is why it affected him first. Yet now he was the strongest.

After a while a cure came out, the only problem was that when I went to the study site and the doctor injected me with the “cure” it turned out to be the virus that the “doctors” were injecting into us. I remember everyone being very confused on why I never turned into one of them. I thought it was a good thing , it turns out it was the exact opposite. Ever since then I have been locked away in this horrible place by these creatures that want to find out why I was immune. They took my friend for “good measure” they said. She died soon after. I used to feel guilty. I don't anymore.I can't anymore.

I hope they find out what is wrong with me soon so that this endless cycle of pain and misery will just come to an end. Whether it be because they turn me into one of them. A hideous monster with no brain and no remorse or feeling. Or maybe they just kill me. I don't really know. All I do know for sure is that they were growing tired and angry, and soon their frustrations would be let loose. I used to wonder when I first came here if people were looking for me, if anybody missed me or if they just thought I ran away. I prayed that someone did miss me. I let my mind wander as the continuous experiments started. I let myself think about what the world was like now, if it was destroyed or not, if anyone was still human or if they were all monsters now.

I had know idea what was in store for me. I thought back to the movies I would watch as a kid with my family, where the apocalypse would start, and everyone was sacred. As I started to black out I thought about how in those movies there was always a fearless group that would save people, and I only hoped that for once the real world was like the movies. I laughed to myself as I realized how pathetic I had come to be. I used to be strong and fearless. Now I was a shattered broken girl who was by herself. I wished that I wasn't immune to whatever they were because being one of them, well even that would be better than this. Anything would be.

Even death.

If only I knew that I just had to hold on a little bit longer. That soon my dreams and wishes would be coming true. If only I did know, because then maybe I would be more careful for what I wished for. If only I knew that things were about to get a lot worse. If only.