Novels2Search
Apocalypse? Paradise.
Chapter 7: "The second day of Paradise, Personal Psychiatrist"

Chapter 7: "The second day of Paradise, Personal Psychiatrist"

“Are you fucking serious?” I heard her asking over screams of young children and authoritative shouting of instructors from long ago.

She grabbed me over the table and forced me to look at her; her figure overlapping Anastasias. I told myself it was not real, but her straight wheat coloured hair was becoming brighter and curls were beginning to form in my eyes.

“A fucking god darn Russian operative ran amok in Union soil on a killing spree?” She demanded.

I sputtered, almost speaking in Russian, but the caning stopped me. “Not Russian. Not Russian.” I squeezed out as I tried to pry her fingers off me with shaking hands. But I was too afraid to harm her, her golden locks and navy blue eyes filled me with guilt. I had left her. Why hasn’t she come to hunt me down? Is she dead?

My emotions swirled out of control, reality and fantasy intertwined. I was now seeing our first survival exercise. Empty, lifeless husks and gunfire, dogs barking. I bit my lip to suppress a scream.

I knew it was not real; I had lived past it, unlike many. I needed quiet to recollect, but she hounded me further.

“Well, if you’re talking the truth, what the fuck are you.” She snarled while shaking me. My trigger finger squeezed twice as my sight bobbed over her body. I saw myself standing over bodies with a shot to their head and chest. My heart picked up erratically as I stilled.

A convulsion shook over me as the echoes of the past left me and all that remained was the beating of my heart.

I blinked and placed my hands on hers and applied pressure as I slowly began crushing her arms.

She yelped and let go as she looked at me fearfully.

“Calm down.” I said, while looking at her. She flinched as she caught my eyes in hers. I let her go and motioned for her to sit down.

“Sorry, I was not expecting you to believe a crazy person..” I started awkwardly.

“Yeah well, neither did I till you had a full-blown panic attack from speaking Russian, a language Kaine Smith should not be able to talk.. Fluently.” She answered carefully, “I considered for a moment you picking it up here but what I’ve heard you did not have library privileges.”

“I seem to be a hot topic for the mind doctors.” I say to clear the air after what had happened.

“You have no idea.” She muttered absentmindedly as I sat uncomfortably in my chair as I had trouble coming to terms with her knowing. And telling her the truth.

“I was an orphan in Russia.” I stated after a while. “Siberia to be exact, no passport or birth certificate, living in an orphanage.”

“Some old man ran it, helped by some nuns from a nearby cloister dedicated to some saint I think.. I don’t remember much from my life there.” I explained while trying to reminiscent those times.

“Then an official came with Americans, had us line up in the gentle spring morning. Took most of us in the end whilst money switched hands.” I tapped the table as flames flickered in my mind.

“I remember being loaded into a truck and watched as the orphanage was burning..” I glanced at her and saw horror on her face as she realised it.

“As a whole there were, I guess 40 of us, either mistakes and given away or left alone in this world in some manner.” I continued as I continued to tap the table to keep myself calm. “The Americans were searching for ghosts who they gathered up for The Conglomerate as a private army and operatives.” I sigh as the voices slowly begin to surface, followed by the desperate screams as the smell of smoke and burning flesh clogs my nose.

“And that is as much as I’m willing to say.” I state and stand up from the table to put my mind off this topic.

“Just know that despite the tragic backstory, I am still the monster people claim.” I add, while glancing back and smiling before walking out of the break room.

I close the door behind me and run my hand through my messy hair. It slicks partially backwards from grease and probably other things that have accumulated into them due to poor hygiene these past few days.

With a heavy sigh to calm down, I scan over the room again.

Billy was near the door where we came from. Locks of the doors were still engaged. Kaitlyn’s purse was near the vending machines with her wallet on the ground next to it.

It was quiet.

I moved over to the vending machine and picked up her wallet and took some coins from it and purchased a bag of skittles. My mind needed sugar. I considered for a moment to just smash the glass of the machine, but I wanted a bit of me time.

With my skittles in my hand, I lied down on the sofa. I ate them in a colour sequence of my preference. Green first, followed by orange, then purple and red. Lastly, the yellow. I had a thing for sour, but lemon candy was not among them.

My eyes wandered over to the television showing the desolate news room that was still shown. I read the headlines running below as I made quick work of the candy in silence.

While snacking and feeling more whole, I searched for the remote. I found it below some magazines on the lower part of the coffee table.

I flicked through the channels, many showing nothing, while others showed seemingly regular broadcasts planned for the week. I lazily skimmed through them.

Then I came across a different broadcast that piqued my interest.

A weary-looking man in worn out suit was shown in an office. He looked dirty with a heavy stubble covering his lower face. There were videos playing on the upper right side of the screen, showing images of handheld videos of different scene around the Union. The quality of the broadcast was low, probably through a web camera.

I unmuted the tv slightly.

“-in doors and stay safe. Do not leave under any circumstance at the moment unless running out of food, water or other necessities you absolutely cannot survive. “ The man said in a sombre, authoritative tone, clearly trying to dissuade people from leaving a safe place.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“Those in the rural, less densely populated areas should probably be safe to leave and gather supplies under extreme caution and avoiding unnecessary risks while avoiding detection.” The man continued with a hint of uncertainty.

“As far as we know through the internet and getting in touch with viewers after giving our number, we are unsure if there is a working government or plans to retake control. One survivor in Washington living near the White House heard gunshots yesterday, like heavy fire so there is hope but..

We implore all to move around this first week and.. Stay safe as possible, learn survival skills, arm yourselves with what you can. I know it is tempting to go out and try to gather as much as you can, but these next days will be the most dangerous.

I chatted with a prepper on discord after the earlier broadcast.” He paused for a second and chuckled.

“ Bless those crazies, anyway he said that the zombies will be densely packed for now and in any large city, the survivor count will plummet massively as people leave safety. And the horror movie creatures are not you only problem as others also will aim at those supplies. Conflicts will ensue and you’ll lose ether way as you will probably draw attention to yourself.”

After his monologue, he took a slight pause to let his speech simmer in.

“I feel he makes quite a lot of sense, but then again, I’m a news reporter trapped in my workplace with seven other co-workers. Believe him or not, I have passed on his message. We’ll be broadcasting every day as long as we can on this channel. Remember to hope for the best and plan for the worst people. Stay safe out there.”

The broadcast ended abruptly, switching over to show the videos in full screen. They showed of devastation, not only in American soil but around the world. A global pandemic turned apocalypse.

There was a phone number at the screen’s bottom.

I smirked as I watched the videos in quiet rapture. A world where I would have a place in.

My fingers dug into my palms as I felt anticipation. I felt the nails dig deep and draw blood.

Warm liquid trickled down my palm.

I wondered how people like me would view these events. Would they feel the same rush he was feeling?

I felt a presence nearing and turned around to see Billy wobbling towards me, its blank stare focused on me. Its maw was letting a slow hiss from air, leaving the vocal chords.

I picked myself up from the sofa while still in a good mood, even humming slightly. I extended my wounded hand and watched Billy turning towards it and making a beeline for it.

Another leg sweep later, I mounted his chest while placing my right leg on his neck to keep it in place.

Drip.

I dripped my blood in to its mouth and watched as it desperately swirled its tongue like a water deprived in a desert, desperate for the last drops of vital essence. I smeared my healthy hand in blood before I used the wounded on to hold its head in place with a fist to avoid contact with the wound.

I offered it my smeared hand.

The cool, bloated, purplish tongue lapped around my hand as it groaned in a hollow voice. I watched as the dull eyes had taken a maniacal sheen to them; it sniffed and growled, overwhelmed by the smell of vitality. Its body squirmed underneath me but could not do much.

A door opened behind me and hurried footsteps stilled.

“What in hell are you doing?” Kaitlyn hissed behind me after rushing into the room, probably hearing the groans. Had she been behind the door all this time?

“Bonding.” I answered while I watched the desperate creature underneath me. Taking a glance towards her and nod at the tv showing the videos.

“I saw a broadcast made by a survivor. Seems that things are bad in big cities.”

She glanced at the video feed but focused back on me after a glance.

“Yeah, heard most of it, don’t change the subject.”

I roll my eyes before focusing back on the shambler.

“I just injured myself and got a reaction so I’m feeding it.”

She comes over and pulls my hand away from the mouth.

“What the fuck, you should know their saliva might be infectious!” She hisses and takes an antibacterial spray from her pocket and sprays it on my hand.

“Relax, I’m not interested in joining their numbers.” I say as I wipe the hand into my clothes and switching hands on its head to show her the actual injured hand.

She harrumphs and spays the other as well, before taking a seat on the sofa. A relived sigh leaves her mouth “I thought you were going to reject humanity.” She says as she sinks into the sofa.

“Wouldn’t put it past you to think you’re some protagonist and only partially getting turned.” She chuckles, “Hell, I think you might pull it off somehow.” She adds.

I shake my head with a scoff.

“Sure, I’m a protagonist of some story where he mysteriously gains superpowers from getting infected.”

Billy had gone still after disinfecting my wound so I get off of him and move over to the sofa and wipe my hand on the sofa.

“Think about it, tragic childhood filled with trauma. I’m sure I have read a story like this.” She offers as I move towards her purse.

“Any bandages in your purse?” I ask her.

“I think I have a pad in it.”

“That’ll have to do.” I say and look through the purse. “Didn’t expect you to read such stories.” I add as I unwrap the pad and stick it on my palm.

It looks silly, but it’ll have to do.

I can see her kick her feet on the coffee table and relaxing. “Just kind of found some translated stuff on the internet after growing bored with western stuff, you know, escaping everyday life with a good story now and then.” She explains before gesturing towards me, “You read any novels?”

“No, I prefer non-fiction.” I say as I make over to her, “But I guess stories like these are no longer non-fiction.”

She smirks at my statement and makes room for me to sit down. I do just that.

“What was the story? The zombie apocalypse one?” I ask her.

“What you interested now?” She asks mirthfully as she looks at me.

“As I said, I’m a fan of non-fiction.” I merely state with a shake of my head. She turns to look at the video feed.

“It was quite like this.” She starts after watching the videos for a bit in silence.

“Non-fiction indeed.” She spits out. “A stupid harem story, but a good one. Few stories about zombie apocalypses, so it caught my attention.”

I leaned my head on my right arm as I listened as she described the story.

“So does that make you the first harem member?” I asked with a laugh.

She snorts and bursts out laughing.

“I do feel that would be a possibility if you weren’t a psycho agent of a multi-billion corporation.” She says between chuckles. “God just saying that out loud makes you sound like a poorly designed main character”

“And it hammers it home that this is a zombie apocalypse story.” She adds with a downhearted voice.

“Well, you better start believing in zombie apocalypse stories, miss.. You’re in one.” I say to lighten the mood.

“I see you at least watch moves.” She snickers. “I can feel my affection points increasing.”

“Oh-ho, does that mean my harem has a chance?”

“Why, of course, you’re only at -45 points so anything is possible.” She sates with a deadpan face, but the corner of her lip was twitching upwards slightly. I feel my own doing the same.

We threw jabs at each other and talking about some zombie lore in between for a while as we rested. I finally decided to just break the glass of the vending machine and we snacked while chatting. A well-earned respite before venturing forward.

Finally, she brought it up, “So you being a corporate, what? Ghost operative? What was it like?” She asked, while throwing a handful of salted nuts into her mouth.

I shifted uncomfortably from her question.

“Hard topic?” She queried after seeing my reaction.

“No, just not used to talking about it to outsiders.. It was a lifestyle.”

“Honestly, the way you talked about your background, you totally sound like some character from a novel.” She says before imitating my voice with a Russian accent, “It was a lifestyle.”

I snort out my energy drink as I hear her poor imitation of me.

She continues her act, now standing up and taking a tough guy pose as well. “Mondays I kill. Because Monday is kill day. Tuesdays I threaten because HR says corporate want better image, tells me not kill on Tuesdays.. So Tuesdays is vodka day. Like any day but worse.” She continues her act.

“We weren’t allowed to just drink outside of undercover work.” I laugh at her antics as I wipe my face clean of the drink.

“Wednesday is group activity day. We do things in group. Wholesom. All comrades together killing for glory of home corporation. To seize the means of monopoly.”

She does a twirl around and faces me with a shit-eating grin. I look back at her with amusement.

“You’re technically right.” I say as I try to sound serious.

“The best kind of right.” She adds while turning around and bending over, taking a drink from the table. “How does the Conglomerate cover up their ghosts and all this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Like any other power, hide it, ignore it, deflect it, threaten and bribe.” I explain. “And most of all, don’t get caught or connected.”

“Sounds hard.” Kaitlyn mutters as she sits down again.

“I’m not too privy to that, but it’s not that hard when you’re a behemoth like them.”

“Fair enough. So what did you actually do besides my accurate interpretation of a villain henchman?”

“Mostly what you said, undercover and group missions around the world for one reason or another.”

She muses over my answer while nodding. “So, you unemployed now or you think they will bounce back from this?” she asks while looking at me carefully.

I take a moment to think about it. They had technically suspended me when I got caught. I’d be dead if I were to be ‘fired’. If anything would have a contingency plan or even hands in this, it would be them. I looked over at her.

I kind of wanted to be left to my devices even if they survive this.

“I guess I am unemployed.” I say, while crossing my arms.

“With what I heard from the broadcast, I’d say I’m in the same boat.” She nods while scratching her head while frowning.

“Well, we better get a move on then.” I say, while standing up. “Gotta hurry out of here and enjoy our early retirements.”

“Paradise awaits.” I say as I take Jason into my hands.

“Only a madman would call it Paradise.” She says wirily in response to my comment.

I wink at her.

“Well, lucky for me then that I have a personal psychiatrist around.”