Kill or Be Killed
'Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do?*' Marshall's eyes lingered on the well worn page between his fingers, staring at the same eleven words that were printed in black and white, trying to analyze the author's intent of such an ignorant question. He knew from all of his mother's counseling texts and the mundane lectures that she hosted at the local college [and he was forced to attend] that evil was both an action and a trait. You could readily be born with malice in your heart and the mind of a clinically diagnosed psychopath, producing a truly evil individual just as easily as you could be born a sane human being that commits an act that would be seen as heinous. There was no category to being evil, whether you were born evil or just did something that seemed inhumane; evil was evil, wasn't it? Marshall let the book fall away from his fingers and onto the floor as he contemplated the question further, the loud thud of the book against the hard wood stopping the click clack of footsteps in the hallway. Outside of his room, he could hear someone press their ear against his door and listen, their breathing become quiet and hushed for stealth.''I'm okay.'' He grumbled as an instinctive eye roll followed.
He could hear his mother, based on the black high heels she was wearing that could been underneath the crack of his door, breath a sigh of relief and then...another breath as if she were preparing something. Oh god, she wanted to talk.
''Are you sure?'' Her voice was riddled with worry and concern, the final barrier between them broken as she opened the door and invaded what little private space he had left in the house. ''I didn't...want to ground you, Marshall. It's just...well, you can't use that kind of language in the house. All of the curse words, especially the f one that you used, are strictly forbidden.'' He could see several small creases appear around the corners of her mouth, forehead and her even her eyes, each worry line even more prominent than that last in her pale alabaster skin. All of them had a name attached to them too: Marshall; he was the cause of each and every one of them. As she looked up to meet his gaze, an unruly strand of brown hair fell out of her tightly kept bun and into her caring brown eyes, which were now filling to the brim with tears, causing the gold to overtake the chocolate hue. ''I j-j-just love you so much! It j-just make me so sad w-w-when y-yo-you talk like that!''
Now he had done it - she was blubbering again. Marshall tried to lean in for a quick in-and-out hug for comfort but she pulled him as close as the two could get and held him tightly with her arms locked around his body. ''I won't do it again.'' He offered, trying to wriggle free from the mom hug that he had come to hate. ''And if I promise not to do it again, can I go?''
''Out?'' She asked softly, running her caring hand over Marshall's rebellious black hair. ''You're...grounded. You can't go out.'' She said delicately provoking Marshall to rip away from the iron grip of the motherly hug.
''What?!'' Now he was pissed. ''Dad said no tv from this morning until six and then we could talk about it!''
His mother shook her head, the apologetic expression on her face the only answer he needed. ''We...can't let you go out Marshall. You've got school tomorrow and I just...don't know if we can trust you to go out with that Alex boy, especially with all of this bad behavior lately. What if he's causing it?''
''Oh my GOD, he's not doing anything!'' Marshall whined, picking his book up off the floor and putting it back on the shelf where it belonged. He couldn't sit still when he talked to his parents, especially his mom who enjoyed hugging, holding hands and eye contact above all else.
''He could be a bad influence on you!'' She pleaded, following the dark, raven haired boy around the room ''We just love you and we think you need a little more time to think about what you did.''
Marshall didn't want to hear any of it. It was a trip to the movies with one of his friends from school - not a party where everyone was going to get wasted off of their ass and then go around the city, destroying public property like a group of drugged up stoners. ''So fucking stupid.'' He muttered underneath his breath, snatching the small black device from one of his drawers along with a stringy pair of headphones to go with it. ''But Marshall!'' His mother tried to start in but Marshall shut her down, popping one of the ear buds into each ear, an automatic stop sign for parents to back off. ''We just w-''
''Whatever, just fuck it.'' Marshall yelled a little too loudly from beneath his headphones, his mother jumping slightly where she stood at the teenage angst that had just been directed at her. ''Get out.''
He could see more tears in his mother's golden eyes but he turned his back towards her, adjusting all of his weight to his left side so that he could be on his bed, staring at the wall alone. Behind him, he could hear the tap of her heels against the floor, exiting his room and the click of the door closing behind her, leaving Marshall with nothing more than some music and his thoughts.
Why were they always so insignificant? It's not as if Marshall had ever expected something like this to happen but one would have thought that in the case of a disaster such as this, he could remember a more emotional memory. A birthday from his childhood, a holiday where the whole family was together, the last time they ever spoke - anything more than these fragmented days that were like watching another person's life play out in his own mind. They didn't even feel like he owned them anymore but then again, nothing felt okay anymore.
Before him were the dilapidated ruins of a red brick building that had crumbled over the last few months until it finally toppled into itself, leaving only a pile of debris and the scattered remains of inhabitants that had once occupied it's great halls. Marshall stood in the middle of the destruction, crumbled popcorn buckets with nothing but roaches left inside, burned ticket stubs with a date and time printed right in the middle, rotting corpses that smelled of death and even jagged shrapnel from car parts were as far as the eye could see. Even from where he stood, he could make out the dirty, blackened sign that read ''Cinema Eight'' - a movie theater much like the one in his hometown. He moved one of the corpses with the edge of his shoe, pushing it with the slightest amount of force only to have it fall apart and expose all of it further, including the horrors that were inside. Marshall covered his nose with the sleeve of his jacket at the putrid smell of death, stepping out of the junk pile that he would chock up to a total loss; there was nothing of interest or use to be found.
Through the wasteland of abandoned vehicles and the mountain-like heap of rusted scrap metal, Marshall rejoined the small group of weary travelers, sneaking back in without any of them the wiser, save for one. There waiting for him, unwavered by his callous exterior, was the same young woman that had been his faithful companion throughout their extensive journey, her bright emerald eyes glistening with curiousity and tresses of chocolate brown hair clinging to her face as a result of the copious amounts of mud that had attached itself to her dirty form. The second she spotted him phase himself back into the group, the bohemian brunette took her devoted place to the right of him and began her perpetual chattering. Most of the things that she described were uninteresting, stuff like her home life before all of it happened, her opinions about what was around her, observations and thoughts she had and even things that Marshall didn't want to know about, she would tell. It seemed to make no difference to her whether Marshall had his headphones in, pretending not to hear her babbling on about nothing, or if he had his nose crammed in a book, her perseverance was unwavering; it's what had kept her going for all of these months.
Minutes turned to hours and afternoon gradually faded to night as darkness began to chase away any measurable amount of light from the wasteland that the Earth had become. Before any of them knew it, they were walking by the moonlight, dodging bodies and holes alike. Marshall had resigned to his fate, having his ears talked off by the blathering flower child now that he could no longer read under the light of the moon, though he was still managing to act disinterested enough that she still probably felt as if she was having a one-sided conversation. It wasn't until he heard the footsteps in front of him come to a full stop did he realize that his group was no longer walking, the largest, bulkiest man in front standing awkwardly in place.
''Why did we stop?'' A woman from the small crowd questioned, her voice shrill and bothersome but also hoarse from the dry, sweltering air. ''We need to keep going.''
But the man, towering in stature and hulking in strength just shook his head. ''No. We need to stop and rest.'' His voice was so low and deep that it could hardly be heard; Marshall recognized the symptom of a breaking point about to be shattered though everyone else seemed unaware of the danger at hand. They all nodded understandingly and dispersed into their own factions.
Marshall attempted a brisk getaway from the chatty woman but she was right on his tail before he got the chance to retreat, yanking on his aching arm with all of her weight. Dead on his feet, he was ready to tear into for her carelessness but just as he turned, ready to give her the verbal lashing he felt she had earned, he could see that she wasn't even looking at him; instead, she was staring at her feet. Since he had met her only months ago, Tranquil refused all other footwear that Marshall offered, clinging desperately onto the beige, hemp sandals that she had left home with. Now, the sandals were shabby, frayed and crimson red as a result of the blood that had been oozing from Tranquil's blistered heels onto the soles of the footwear. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of her condition, all animosity towards her dissipating, replaced by genuine concern of her well-being.
''Here.'' Marshall held out his arm for support, her compassionate jade eyes filled with optimism despite the agony she must have felt as she walked. She glanced up to meet his eyes and his show of good faith, a beaming smile growing from the corners of her mouth in the wake of what she must have perceived as tenderness. With her arm around him now, bracing herself against his steady frame, the two made a small camp of their own, only a few steps away from the others.
''Thank you...for helping me.'' Tranquil began, bursting the peaceful lull they had between her prattling on. ''I really should have realized that my feet were so worn down. It's kind of weird that I didn't.''
Marshall nudged the blazing campfire with his foot, watching the embers of red-orange ash come alive in the air. ''It's fine.'' He said simply, hesitant to respond with anything further that might stimulate one her long-winded speeches about hope and faith. They were total bullshit - Marshall didn't buy any of it. Anytime that Marshall skimmed the skyline of the damaged land they walked, between the scorched forest line and the remains of decaying homes and businesses, he couldn't see anything to be happy about; it was all gone now. The life he had grown up with, the family he had come to know and love - all annihilated within a matter of seconds. It was as if he had blinked and in a single, fading flash: life had become this accursed hellhole. The ebony haired cynic must had shown too much of himself through his eyes in that Tranquil placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and leaned in close.
''It's going to be okay, you know. I have a good feeling about where we're going!'' Ever the pessimist, Marshall just groaned. ''I mean, they wouldn't leave if they knew people were here! We just have to trust each other and we'll make it through!''
That was all of the distorted view that Marshall could tolerate in a single day, rising from the fractured dirt beneath his feet before retreating to the shallow crater that he had shoveled through that would be his bed for the night. He laid down on the dirty, solid ground with his back faced towards Tranquil, the essence of earth swirling in his nostrils and eyes with each movement he made. Behind him, where she had been sitting next to the weakened campfire, the sound of cool water being poured over scorching cinder caused the fire to breath out a dying hiss followed by silence and grayish haze of smoke that rose into the eventide air. Soon after, she crawled into her area, directly to the right of his own and laid down as well. It wasn't until he heard the sound of her exasperated breathing slow and the hippie had dozed off that Marshall granted himself the freedom to move about the camp as he pleased, looking for his prey. After all, he had hunting to do.
There was a vicious famine growing within Marshall that could only be tamed through quenching a bloodlust that had been ready to burst forth for a number of days now. The gnawing discomfort in his gut, that was comparable to a rusty blade being driven into his stomach what with the acidic bile eating through his throat and the indescribable way in which his organs felt like they were contorting, could no longer be ignored; it was time. Under the safe cover of darkness in which secrets from many were kept in silence by God's watchful gaze, Marshall began the tedious task of stalking his next victim. All of them looked so peaceful, sleeping so soundly in their shallow graves with no inkling of an idea of what could happen to them if Marshall decided that he would play God, choosing tonight as their last on Earth. But by no means was it straightforward; the process was long and trying, especially on Marshall's taxed mind.
'Him.' He decided, looking at a man much older than himself who could have been in his late 40s for all Marshall knew. However as the prowling ebony haired hunter approached the silver haired male, Marshall could see that wrapped up in the gentleman's arms so snug and safe was a small child that looked to be age five or even younger; he was a father. Under his breath, his deep, almost emotionless voice mumbled a swear and again, Marshall was back on the hunt but this time, there was a problem. Marshall was beginning to question himself.
'Who are you going to kill if there is no one left to kill?' The voice questioned in a mocking voice so foul that Marshall had to frown. 'What then?'
'There is always someone to kill, there has to be or else, I'll die.' The desperate teen tried to reason.
'Really? So who will it be this time? The father protecting his daughter? The pregnant woman? The older woman with nothing left to lose?' Each option he was presented with was even more unimaginable than the last, the faces of each human being sticking in his mind as he stood over their bodies threateningly.
Marshall held his head between his hands as if trying to wrestle his conscience right out of his brain but the voice just echoed louder like it were being amplified. 'What about the leader? Or the man without his wife?' Until finally...'What about the girl?' And that's what finally tore it. Within a matter of seconds, Marshall had awoken one of the fellows travelers from their sleep, luring them away from camp as quietly as he could manage until they were out of view from the others. And from that moment on, the man's fate was sealed and Marshall was now in control.
Rich, thick shades of red drenched Marshall's sleeves and even the deep blue denim of his jeans had been stained like a bloodied war zone where ligaments, muscle matter and even bodily tissue clung as a grim reminder of his reprehensible deed. Despite his previous kills, some of which had been even more appalling than the one he had just committed, Marshall had not gained the amusement of a true killer that he had craved from the infancy of his immorality; each murder he committed was a life-altering event that left him numb to his core. With little courtesy left for the deceased, Marshall gathered what was left of the decapitated corpse in his blood soaked arms and began the obligatory campaign across the land where the bones could be laid to rest. Roughly a half-hour later and a mile away from those of whom he had traveled along side, the shell-of-a-boy who had become so devastated and starved by disaster, dug the grave of a man whom he hardly knew at all. Time passed by as if it were speeding down an open highway at a dare-devilish 80 MPH but then slowed to a crawl, altering Marshall's ability to measure time until the burial was over and Marshall could exist again, not as a spectator of his own actions and mind, but as himself, feeling the full effects of what he had done. The guilt set in immediately in his chest, winding the muscles of his heart up in a tangle of remorse and sorrow that Marshall's attempt to outrun it with his own two feet proved to be futile, even as he looked back to see that the unmarked tomb was fading in the distance. Ready to continue onward with the hopeless journey, Marshall turned back to his path but heard the slightest, tiniest whimper of a female voice. He turned to face her, the bright, glittering eyes of all that was good in the world, staring back at him in fear of the ghastly scene of carnal homicide that was apparent by his blood stained clothing.
''You left?'' She stated simply, trying to set it up as more of a question as to why rather than a statement.
Marshall couldn't bring himself to answer her - after all, what explanation was there to give? So instead of attempting a half-hearted apology for what he had done, he turned on his heel and walked. Without hesitation or question, she followed silently...at least for a few minutes.
And then began the talking. So much talking that Marshall didn't have time to needlessly dwell on the thing he had just done, what with her soft voice prattling on like a small, gentle stream beating against the river rocks, washing away all of the grim that clung to them. Wound up in her chattering that made his mind dizzy and exhausted by the fight, Marshall could feel his legs trying to buckle beneath him. Each step he took was fighting against all that his body wanted him to do until finally, he was on his knees in the dirt with his head bowed down. At his side, Tranquil grasped at his chest and arm.
''Marshall! Marshall, are you okay?'' He could hear the concern in her voice, even if he couldn't see her eyes. ''We should rest....it looks like there's a building up there that we can stay in!''
Her voice was fading in and out and his head was spinning so fast that he couldn't even figure out which was was up but still he shook his head, denying her request. He forced himself back onto his feet and jerked his head up, his eyes widening to the size of golf balls.
''Marshall, you shouldn't be u-''
''Shut up.'' His hand was wrapped around her mouth, stifling the words. ''Do you see that?''
She looked up and pointed one her long, thin fingers towards a building just beyond the one she had been referring to previously. ''That one?''
Marshall nodded. ''I...know where we are.'' And it all came back in full color - his parents leaving, his sister packing, their long drive here; it was her university. ''This is where my parents were. This is where my sister is.'' Even he knew he shouldn't fill his head with such positive thoughts that would be nothing more than broken dreams by the time he reached it but he couldn't help it; this was his first potential chance at seeing his family. ''We have to go. Now.''
A step forward and two steps back, Tranquil tugging on his arm. ''We can't go there yet...we need to rest. You are too tired.'' ''I'm going.'' He argued.
''You can't, you're too tired!''
''I'm NOT too tired, I'm going. We are so fucking close.''
''Marshall, yo-''
''I am going, with or WITHOUT you, Tranquil. I will leave you here if that's what you want me to do but I am going. So come with me or don't, I don't fucking care anymore.'' The words sounded harsh when he said them aloud to someone he had known for so many months but they were the honest truth. He was so close to his family; he couldn't stop now.
Step after step, Marshall pushed his body to its limit, making the slow ramble towards the shining beacon of the university. He could already hear his mother's sweet voice calling to him, his sister's snide comments and even his dad's keyboard being typed on as if everything were okay again. His sights were set on his destination, he could make it if he pushed through the exhaustion! But his vision began to blur and his legs started to pull him down.
''No.'' He whispered, with the scene of the school burned in his memory. The scene faded and then, there was only darkness and the hazy sound of Tranquil crying out his name. ''Marshall!''
Fatigue had won.
Another day, another early morning where Marshall was late to school...again. Most would assume that because his mother worked at the school as the counselor that they would be on time but the two were never so lucky. His dad had already left for his work earlier that morning and Veronica, his older sister, was locked in her room still packing away for her big move to a dorm at university. And where was he? Still stuck in high school, waiting on his mom to get her shit together.
''Mom! Can we go now?'' He howled at the top of his lungs just as a blonde haired woman with eyes much like his own came into the room.
''Alllmoooost!'' She sang with a smile, running back into the kitchen to grab something. ''Almost forgot my keys!''
Marshall just shook his head at the flighty woman, questioning whether he should even step in the car with her but before he even had the chance to think it through, she rushed him out the door and into the passenger's seat of the car. ''Buckle up!''
Marshall did as he was told and the two were off down the street. He could see his mother preparing to begin an early morning conversation but he was faster, pulling his earbuds out of his backpack and popping them into his ears. Her mouth closed instantly and the drive was a silent one until they reached the school. Marshall was about to step out of the car, pulling the headphones from his ears when he looked over to see his mom staring at him with a look on her face that he didn't recognize.
''What?'' He raised an eyebrow and she snapped right out of his, grabbing her things.
''Nothing, nothing sweetheart.'' She tried to play it off, her rosy red lips turning to a frown. ''I just...I love you so much.''
Marshall groaned.
''Can I have a hug?''
''No.''
''A kiss on the cheek?''
''No!'' Marshall protested but she was already leaning in. He considered all of his options carefully, eyeing the car door and the lock switch on the other side of his mom. Could he reach it fast enough? No, there was no way - he had to appease her someway. So Marshall gave in, leaning in to accept the embrace begrudgingly despite the fact that they lasted way too long.
''Mom. Mom. Mom!'' He said grumpily, trying to pull away. ''I have to go.''
''Of course!'' She said, finally releasing him so he could slip out the door. ''Have a good day!''
''Mhm.''
''I love you!'' The voice that she spoke with was motherly, kind and a little bit out the ordinary. It was laced with sadness, unlike anything he had ever heard before; she said I love you all the time but this sounded more like goodbye which almost made him want to cry too. Marshall leaned back into the car and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
''Love you too.''
*Quote from American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
