You’re Out! || Event 001 Para (Self)
Allison expected them to come home drunk. She expected at least one of them to curl up in bed with her to get all “c o z y” because their beer goggles had yet again blurred everything in their path. What she did not expect, was for Drew to come home sick with a bite mark deep in the flesh of his arm. Allison joked about how he shouldn’t let bar skanks try to eat him, but Drew wasn’t laughing. It wasn’t funny, the girl wasn’t trying to fuck him or anything of the sorts. She just stared at him, before lunging and taking a piece of him with her. “What the fuck” was all the youngest Keller could say. In fact, she didn’t really care, but if she could say she had a favorite, it would be Drew. At least he was gentle with her...
But Allison shook her head, trying to shake the thought from her head because despite it all he still used her for his own selfish needs and that was just a molecule of the hate that had been breeding beneath Allison’s broken, porcelain surface. So, she cleaned him up and put him to bed without a second thought. She knew how crazy girls were and maybe that poor girl was someone Drew had recently screwed over. If that were the case, he deserved it. She didn’t even bother to check in on her other brother and father. Little did she know... they came home in worse shape.
Strike one. She woke up late. Really late. No one woke her up to make breakfast-- or lunch and Allison was lost in a Nyquil induced coma. She heard noise though, gurgles and scratching from outside her bedroom door that she kept locked. “Come on! That’s not funny, asshole!” She shouted, jumping out of her bed and pulling the sledgehammer she kept beneath it out to scare whichever of them it was that decided to play a joke on her. She charged towards the door, swinging it open and before she could even think, Drew charged towards her, a soulless look in his eyes that Allison could only equate to the kind of emptiness that followed you to Hell. She wasn’t scared, though. Allison was never scared. Even as Drew snapped at her bare flesh, trying to eat her for dinner (the empty tummy syndrome must have really gotten to him) she fought back with a concrete expression.
Everything going black, Allison only came to it when everything had went silent. She looked around her, the wall covered in blood and then looking at the floor she saw Drew’s body crumpled up, her sledge hammer covered in blood and bits of the brain she didn’t think he had. “Hmph-- I feel much better.” She released in a heavy breath, cracking the bones in her neck to release some of the tension.
Strike two. Kaleb was in the kitchen as Allison tried to run away. She stopped in the doorway, watching as he was hunched in front of the fridge ripping his way through the raw steaks that were meant for dinner. Something was wrong-- very wrong and Allison could feel her stomach turn as she tip-toed closer to her eldest brother, the one she hated the most. “For one, disgusting,” She hissed. “Two, what the fuck?!” But as soon as the words came out she regretted it. Kaleb turned, bare teeth, a shriek echoing through the kitchen from the back of his throat. She wanted to cover her ears to protect herself from the God awful sound, but now was no time to let her guard down. Instead, she made the first move of lifting the sledge hammer once more, and smashing his head in.
The rush was something Allison didn’t think she would feel, but as she stared down at yet another lifeless body of the ones she hated the most she felt a sick sense of thrill. She needed more.
Strike three. It was something Allison cherished, but would never tell anyone. What she did to him, her own “father”, was beyond this world, beyond anything comprehensible. He hadn’t been infected, no. He hadn’t even known that her brothers were dead but she was more than happy to explain it to him as time went on and soon he was dead like them. She wanted to feel guilty. In fact, she should have felt some ounce of regret instead of questioning how the Hell she would clean up the awful mess she made. Shrugging, she went back to bed, cuddling underneath the warmth of her blanket and keeping her weapon close by just in case. She’d worry about it later.
