The only choice was to surrender.
The exit was blocked by three of the Cursed. The Cursed. I shuddered at the mention of them. Much like everyone these days, the trio were infected with a disease so vile it was like a curse.
But curses didn’t exist even when you swear they did. I had one weapon–the only weapon that works against them. So, I shouldn’t be worried, but I am.
Those that contract the disease are never the same. Their minds are wiped clean and what’s left is a vessel devoid of emotion and urged by basic instinct.
The Cursed aren’t the same people anymore. That should have made it easier, but it doesn’t.
Oh God, they’re coming toward me.
I know what I have to do, but I don’t think I can do it. The exit is ten steps away, but it might as well be miles from here.
Their eyes are unyielding, bottomless voids–they’re terrifying, but I can’t look away. Tight skin, jaundiced and flaking from sickness, stretches across their bones–their heads covered by mere tufts of hair. These Cursed aren’t who they used to be.
But no matter how I rationalize it, I’m not going to do it. Even if they are lost to me forever, I can’t kill them. I take one last look at the exit and shudder as my mother, father, and sister come for me.
God help me.