It's always tough to say goodbye, he thought he would be good at it by now, but seeing the PTV travel down the desolate street still brought a tear to his remaining eye, and a tight emotion to grip at his heart. It was better this way after all, he knew what would happen if he left with them, he couldn't bear the thought of being the reason his wife and daughter lay dead in the street with the others, it was better this way…right?
He waited until the last visage of his loved ones were far beyond the horizon before whipping away his tears, he gauged his surroundings before turning back into what was once his family's home just a few short weeks ago. The time before felt like an entirely different life, filled with the silent joys you don't even realise you had until they are ripped away from you, it was a bitter feeling, knowing that those times are now gone, ripped away and replaced by what could only be described as something apocalyptic.
He had seen his fair share of horrors in his life, the wars between Europe and the USA were devastating to say the least, the entire world was still recoiling from what they had done in Europe 7 years ago, the countless lives lost still weighed heavily on his shoulders even if he didn't kill all of them himself, it was the actions of the countless soldiers just like him that ended the wars for good, for better or for worse.
The scars of the battlefield had followed him all the way home, even after he returned he was never the same, not just the psychological ones either, his right eye was ripped from its socket by a sniper in central Europe, but he had managed to return the favour, earning the furthest killshot in the past 20 Years, what an honour. That injury had ended his career as a sniper, despite his protests at the time, his eye was completely lost and parts of his brain were also damaged, he was in no state to fight any more and yet here he was, years later with his trusted rifle clutched in his hands, fighting for the lives of his family.
Not that it mattered anymore, he was already as good as gone and the only hope his family had was to flee, because sooner or later he would become one of them, the infected as people were calling them. It started as a rumour through the network, that people were mysteriously falling asleep all over the world, not that anyone truly believed it, how could thousands of people all across the world suddenly fall asleep over the course of a few days, so people paid it no mind. Until it was already too late, suddenly all of those people awoke from their slumber, no longer human, by the time people knew what was happening hordes of infected where charging down the streets, the bigger cities suffered the most in their wake, according to the reports those things could not even be considered human any more, their bodies were twisted beyond recognition into monsters of all shapes and sizes.
Finally reaching the stairs he rubbed his eyes and blinked before continuing to think back, at first there were constant broadcasts telling people to stay calm and that the government had it under control, not even two weeks later they cut all broadcasts with only emergency announcements being broadcasted, telling people to stay inside and keep away from the windows, warning that it was still unknown how the infection spread. Despite these dire warnings he had still somehow managed to catch the infection, his wife and child were fine but he was doomed to die.
As the drowsiness scratched at his mind he remembered the instructions he had heard before all communications cut out, the first was the location of a shelter on the west coast a few hundred miles away, the second was what to do if someone became infected, the only thing known at this time is that the infection stops once a person dies, as long as they haven't mutated yet, so in order to prevent more outbreaks, people had been advised to end their own lives before they harmed anyone.
This was a bitter pill to swallow, after all he was only at the spry young age of 34 , he still had his whole life ahead of him and now that would be taken away as well, he supposed it was fitting, a person like him destined to die by the very gun he used to reap of the lives of so many others. But he didn't really care about dying, at least not for himself, but for the effect it would have on his family, no child should grow up knowing that one of their parents died of an incurable disease before they truly grew close, and no partner should have to comfort their child, knowing there was nothing they could do to comfort themselves with the knowledge that the love of their life had an impossible task to complete, in order to protect them.
He and the world had already put his family through so much and now they would have to face far worse horrors, knowing that he would never return, that was bitter, that was what he regretted the most about the state of the world, but there was nothing more that could be done, it was simply a matter of time. Entering his bedroom for the final time he laid the rifle onto the bed before staring into a small bedside mirror, sitting onto the soft mattress he picked up the mirror and gazed at himself, his face was rigid and firm, his features pronounced as if drawn on, his hair, once jet black was now speckled with patches of grey, making it seem to glisten in the dim light passing through the nearby window.
A thick beard covered the bottom half of his face connecting all the way around his face into large sideburns perfectly cut to fade into the rest of his hair, which now wild and unkept reached just past the base of his neck, his olive skin now drained of most of its colour was wrapped tightly around his muscular body, granted he had let himself go in recent years but still looked great for his size.
It wasn't long before he was ready, he had taken off his more casual clothes and replaced them with his retired military uniform, he didn't know why exactly but it just felt… right like a piece of him he wished to bring to the other side with him, staring at the rifle on the bed he felt conflicted, he knew what had to be done, he knew it was the only way to make sure no one else got hurt because of what he did, but that didn't feel right.
He had spent the nearly a third of his life on the battlefield, facing impossible odds every single day to make sure the people he left behind had a chance at a better life, sure he may have regretted his actions but he would do them all again if he could give those he cares about the life they deserve, his wife deserved to grow old with her husband, his daughter deserved to grow up in a loving family in a better world, it just…isnt fair. After all that he sacrifice to be where he is today it all amounted to nothing, his wife was going to end up a widow and his daughter would wonder where he went until she was old enough for the truth, it was heartbreaking but not just that, it made him angry, angry enough to consider forgetting everything else and just fight for their right to live in a better world.
Despite his thoughts, he knew it wasn't possible, he was just being irrational again, he had a tendency to do that after everything that happened, standing quietly he walked over to the window and gazed out to the streets below, the pale moonlight shining of the broken road and shattered glass of the nearby houses. He focused his mind, just as he'd been taught, but it was hard, every second was a constant fight against the building pressure of sleep building up against his mind, he knew he didn't have long so he had to act fast.
Turning back to lay in his bed for the final time he grabbed the gun laying next to him and turned it on himself, staring down the barrel he wondered if this is what it felt like for the countless souls he extinguished, to be starring down the opposite end of the barrel felt almost poetic, his eyelids growing heavier with each second he quickly held his finger over the trigger, taking in a deep breath he thought about what his grave would have said.
Here lies Damian, a man who thought for everyone but himself, as these words crossed his mind he found his peace and pulled on the trigger.
He never felt the bullet enter his skull, and never knew if it did in the end, the eternal darkness that surrounded him like a mantle finally spoke out in a voice, both pleasantly familiar but strangely alien;
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your first trial...]