I was born in Elektro into a family of sinners. My father, a Serial Killer who I never had the chance to meet because he was hanged before I was born. My mother, who was convicted of the murders of three children who were found dead on a park swing set impaled with crosses.
I grew up with my uncle. He despised every pour on my skin, every hair on my body, every crack and crevice. I would go days, even weeks without food or water in that putrid basement. When he was feeling generous he would throw a lone bone down the staircase, then he'd quickly lock the door again so I couldn't escape.
The only water I got was from when the pipes leaked. I could hear the water start running, so I would rush to the leak and sit under it. Mouth open, waiting for droplets to begin seeping through the ceiling. The only light that got in was from the crack on the wall and whenever it rained, my floor starting flooding.
It was lonely. I tried my best to keep my sanity, but it was hard. I spent countless hours playing with a doll my mother gave me when I was younger. He would mock me for it, but I had nothing else to do.
The more I sat there in that cold, dark fucking room, the more my hatred for that evil fucking bastard grew.
I began grinding the bones he send me against the rocky floor. The bones got so sharp that just lightly touching the tip would make you bleed relentlessly. I loved the taste of blood.
I sat by the door for two days and two nights. It finally happened on the third day.
He unlocked the door. I hid behind it as he slowly opened it. He peered down the staircase, and took a few steps. He was looking for me. What if he thought I was dead? What if he was concerned? What if he wanted to let me go? What if he was here to free me from this prison?
No. He had another bone in his hand. Just waiting to throw it down to me again. He could care less if I was dead, in fact I'm not sure why he hadn't killed me this entire time.
I waited there patiently.
He threw it down and headed back up. I held the sharp bone tight, and flung past the door. I struck ten times, gashing into his throat each time. The fucker was dead. I cut open his stomach and his blood began spilling out. I licked it clean.
I was sentenced to life in jail, but only spent 10 years in Komarovo Corrections Center. I saw the outbreak unfold from the view of my cell.
It was only a couple of weeks ago when I started venturing outside of my cell. The entire time, I have been free to leave... I just chose not to. I did not know any other life than living in confinement up until that point.
That was when I saw a group of survivors.
To be continued...