DS Chapter 13

His voice was a bit more upbeat this time.

“Come back safely.”

I repeated the farewell, and Logan, who had been lingering at the door, finally left the room.

His face had been slightly flushed. A worker heading to their job should be glum, but what was making him so happy that he was smiling?

I couldn’t fathom what was going on in his mind.

Click!

The sound of the door closing was followed by the turn of a lock. I was now stuck in this room until he returned.

The windows were also locked, so escaping was out of the question. Not that I had any intention of trying to escape, anyway.

For a moment, I felt confined.

But then, ‘I’m sleepy.’

The medication was kicking in again. By the time I woke up, a lot of time would have passed. If I walked around the room for a bit to stretch, Logan would likely be back by the time I was done.

I probably wouldn’t have time to get bored.

* * *

It had been a string of unsettling days for me.

The fact that I had lived as a zombie for a year, that Logan had become my guardian, and that I was trapped in his house with no way out weighed heavily on my mind.

There were so many things troubling me, but I decided to focus on getting my health back. That was the only thing within my control at the moment.

Every day, I received two injections, and I made sure to eat the meals he prepared.

Even though the meals mostly consisted of bread, potatoes, and vegetables, I couldn’t help but complain a little about the lack of variety. It was hard not to lose my appetite.

“I want some meat too.”

“No.”

“You need meat to build muscle. And it tastes better.”

“I’m already giving you protein powder. Stop whining and just eat your food.”

I pouted, staring down at my plate piled high with vegetables. Carrots, potatoes, beans, and olive oil pasta—I was getting sick of it. As I forced down the veggies, I couldn’t help but glare at the sausages on Logan’s plate.

‘The reason Logan’s starting to look appetizing must be because all I’ve been eating are vegetables. The more I’m told to restrain myself, the more my cravings take a strange turn.’

Regardless, my strength steadily returned.

I could now get up and walk around on my own, and my voice had fully recovered.

On weekends, I could go outside with Logan. We would walk around the yard and the area in front of the house, enjoying some fresh air.

The first time I went outside, I was excited, thinking I was finally escaping the suffocating house. But now, that excitement had faded.

Whenever people on the road saw me, they would flinch, curse at me, or even spit in my direction. After experiencing such sharp reactions, I started to dread going outside.

Although I thought the discrimination and contempt from the locals were too much, I couldn’t entirely blame them. After all, I had been a zombie until recently.

“Why are they acting like that? I’ve been treated…”

“It’s because you’ve escaped a few times before. I should’ve been more careful. It was my negligence.”

Not long after, someone reported me, and Logan had to fight hard to send me to the zombie research facility to save me from being executed.

The treatment was only available in small quantities, so securing it hadn’t been easy.

I stared blankly at the crumbling wall around our home. That explained the writing on it.

The wall was covered in colorful graffiti and slurs, sprayed with messages like “Get lost, zombie,” “Monster,” “Disappear,” and “Die.”

As I read each of the insults scrawled on the wall, Logan suddenly covered my eyes with his hand.

“What are you doing? I can’t see.”

“Don’t read it.”

His deep, subdued voice told me that he was concerned about how I felt.

What was the point of covering my eyes? He must have passed by those insults written on the wall long before I noticed them.

It felt like I had swallowed a burning stone without water, the heat boiling inside me and settling heavily in my chest.

Even while being scorned by everyone around him, Logan had never abandoned me.

The feeling was strange. I started to feel both guilty and grateful toward him.

He had killed my mother and had been carrying the guilt of me being bitten by a zombie in her place, yet he still protected me all this time.

The sharp thorns inside me softened and melted. I tried my best not to focus on the swelling emotion. It was easier to leave it untouched because digging into it would only add to the confusion.

‘If it had been me, I probably would’ve killed Logan the moment he turned into a zombie.’

Even if I hadn’t known he killed my mother, I think I would’ve still killed him if he had turned into a zombie.

Logan as a zombie would’ve been too dangerous and terrifying. How could I ever win against his size? I’d be lucky if I didn’t get torn to pieces.

*Thud!*

The sound of a neighbor angrily slamming their window shut echoed across the street. They were likely locking up because I had stepped outside.

With a discouraged look, I tugged at Logan’s sleeve.

“Let’s go inside. I think my legs are getting tired.”

Though the weather was beautiful and I had been in a good mood, the thought of my mere presence disturbing others made me feel uneasy.

I was an uncomfortable, strange, and unpleasant presence in this town of survivors.

Would people’s attitudes soften once I received my full cure from the research facility? What if they continued to reject me? The future seemed both frightening and uncertain.

After our short walk, I immediately sat in the rocking chair once we got back inside. I found a strange sense of comfort letting my body sway back and forth in the chair. It helped ease some of my sorrow and anxiety.

Maybe it was because the gentle rocking reminded me of a mother rocking her child in her arms. Either way, this chair felt oddly familiar to me.

As I stared up at the exposed wires peeking through the cracked ceiling and the patches of mold shaped like Munch’s *The Scream*, I asked Logan a question.

“Why haven’t they gotten rid of all the zombies yet? Didn’t they say a cure was developed?”

“There’s not enough of it. Only people with power or connections can get their family treated right now.”

“Filthy world.”

“You were only able to get treated because of that system.”

I snapped my head toward Logan.

“What kind of influence do you have?”

“I volunteered for an experiment in exchange for your treatment.”

“What kind of experiment?”

Logan’s lips twitched. He looked reluctant to answer.

“They’re experimenting on people who are immune to the virus. I donated my cells to help develop the cure.”

“Immune…?”

I mumbled with my mouth agape, my expression dazed. Was he talking about those rare people who naturally carried a resistance to the virus?

“Wait, so that means… if you were bitten…?”

“Yeah, I was fine.”

Damn it. He saved me for nothing. I felt an overwhelming sense of injustice wash over me. My fists trembled with frustration.

“I got bitten just a little, and look what happened to me. But you? Nothing at all? What did I save you for? You would’ve been fine if you got bitten! I should’ve just saved myself!”

“Hm…”

“This is so unfair! How can the world be this unfair?”

I fumed, grumbling bitterly about my misfortune.

‘So, does that mean I could take a bite out of him, and it would be okay?’

The absurd thought crept up out of nowhere.

What the hell? Am I out of my mind? What am I thinking? I’m human now—I’m not a zombie anymore.

I slapped my hand over my mouth, my heart racing wildly in my chest.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked.

“N-Nothing.”

I stammered, quickly shaking my head to dismiss it.

I couldn’t let him know what I had just thought. If he ever found out, they’d drag me back to the research facility and put me down without hesitation.

Feeling Logan’s confused gaze on me, I quickly changed the subject. Putting on a casual air, I stood up from the chair and rolled up my sleeves.

“I’ll help with dinner tonight. I can move around more now.”

“Really? You’ve already regained your strength?”

Logan was much more interested in my health than I was. At the mere mention that I was feeling better, he brightened up and immediately came over to check on me. His large shadow loomed over me as he approached.

Without hesitation, he began squeezing my arms and thighs, checking if I had gained any muscle or weight. In the past, I would’ve been horrified and pushed him away, but by now, I was starting to get used to it.

Being subjected to injections and examinations every morning and evening, I was growing tired of reacting to each one.

I figured Logan would stop on his own once he had checked everything. I let him continue, wearing a look of annoyance on my face, feeling like my body no longer belonged to me.

“You’re definitely getting better. You don’t seem as exhausted from the medication anymore, right?”

“Hmm, maybe. I used to pass out for three straight hours, but now I only sleep for about an hour.”

As I tilted my head in thought, his hand landed softly on top of my head.

“You’re doing great.”

There he goes again. I scowled up at him with a grumpy expression.

At first, his gestures had felt irritating and awkward, but… they were starting to grow on me. How annoying.

“Do you think I’m your pet?”