Zombie Extermination, or Murder
"What...?"
Everything around me feels suddenly, terribly far away.
"...? What's wrong with you, Renit?"
A dizzy rush climbs my spine, and for a second I nearly black out.
"If it's nothing, I'll just head back..."
"Stop!"
The shout tears out of me before I know I'm going to make it.
"W-why are you suddenly— Renit! You scared me..."
"Don't move. Stay exactly where you are."
No. I can't get worked up, and I can't jump to conclusions. It might only be a wound. It might. Right?
"My lady."
I call to Esmela without taking my eyes off Gillot.
"...Everyone. Get away from him."
The order comes out of nowhere, and every servant in the hall falters, thrown.
"That is an order. Now!"
Only when Esmela snaps at them do they start backing away from Gillot, opening the distance an inch at a time. They settle into a loose semicircle around him, and inside that ring only three of us are left: Esmela, Gillot, and me.
"My lady."
Even my own voice, saying it, sounds strange to me.
"Everything you've told us is still nothing more than an unverified hypothesis. There is no guarantee this apprentice, Gillot, will turn into one of those things."
"I know. Even so, I have to watch how he progresses. If only for a little while."
"My lady, what are you saying? Turn into...?"
Gillot looks from her to me and back again, growing more anxious by the second.
"Someone bring rope. Enough to tie Gillot."
I shout it at the servants ringing us, but they only stare, bewildered, whispering to one another as they watch me. Not one of them moves.
"Now!"
Only after I lose my temper does a butler break into a run toward the storeroom.
"What are you even talking about? Tie me up? Why are you suddenly doing this?"
Gillot pleads as he comes toward me.
"Don't come any closer!"
My shout stops him where he stands.
"Why...? Why are you doing this?"
He looks ready to cry.
"Gillot, please. I'm begging you. I'm not trying to do anything to you. Just— just for a moment. Stay right there. Don't move."
My breathing turns ragged. Even getting the words out is getting hard.
"Just one thing. How do you feel right now? Your body."
He stares at me as if the question makes no sense at all.
"Why are you suddenly asking how I am?"
"Just answer me. It's nothing. Right?"
Now I'm the one begging.
"Uh... I'm fine... aren't I? My head feels a little hot, maybe... and kind of foggy..."
He keeps going, but the words drag, and the tone of his voice begins to warp. I watch the focus drain out of those green eyes until they go dull.
"..."
All at once he falls silent and drops his head.
"Gillot?"
I try his name, carefully.
"...Huh?"
The face that lifts at my call—
"Gillot, you—!"
Pale as paper, he suddenly starts bleeding from the nose.
"Wh-what? All of a sudden... my nose is..."
He mumbles as if drunk, staggers, and sinks to the floor.
"Gillot, are you all right?"
A maid among the servants calls out, worried.
"I... I'm... fi..."
Still slumped where he fell, Gillot can barely shape the words. And then—
"Urgh. Kweeeegh!"
He doubles over and starts vomiting blood.
"Aaaah!"
The maid who had been fretting over him screams, and panic ripples through the servants.
"We have to treat him, quickly...!"
Some of them even start toward Gillot to help.
"Stop! Don't go near him!!"
I shout to hold them back, and they turn their anger on me instead.
"What nonsense is that? We have to treat Gillot right now!"
My molars grind. There is no other way left.
"O Herta's Flame, become a sword and cut down the enemies of this house!"
⟨ Herta's Flame ⟩
I draw the hilt from inside my coat and chant. The sword of flame ignites once more, and I level it at the ones trying to reach him.
"I did warn you."
"Y-you've lost your mind?!"
They flinch at the sight of the flaming blade and stumble back.
"My lady, please, stop Renit!"
The other servants rush to Esmela and plead. She only stares at me and at Gillot, saying nothing.
"My lady!"
"...Tsk."
She clicks her tongue and brings her right hand to her throat.
Announce
"Everyone, freeze where you are!"
Esmela's magically amplified voice shakes the central hall of the first floor. Only then do the servants stop where they stand and make no sound at all.
"When this is over, I will explain everything. Until then, all of you will watch."
Her order ends, and silence settles over the hall again. The only sound left is Gillot retching and choking as he brings up blood. What he vomits runs across the marble. He has already emptied more than a small bucket's worth, and still he does not stop.
Please. No. It can't be.
I want to drop the sword in my right hand this instant. Helpless, wretched, I can only wish that all of this is a dream.
Then, abruptly, the vomiting stops.
Every eye turns to Gillot. He stays slumped exactly as he is, perfectly still. A silence follows that is almost too dreadful to bear.
Grrrk...
A sound that should never have come from Gillot slips out of him.
"Ah. Aah."
The groan escapes me before I can stop it. I can't deny it any longer.
Gillot slowly lifts his head, and his eyes—gone red—fix on me. Blood and spit drip from his mouth together.
Grrrrr...
Like a mad dog, he bares his teeth and lets a snarl thick with hostility spill from his mouth.
Kyaaak!
It happens in an instant. From a crouch he launches himself at me with a speed no human body could ever produce, and yet his movement looks slow to me, like a film dragged into slow motion.
I have to cut him down. He isn't my colleague Gillot anymore. He is only a zombie.
What is so hard about it? I have already burned dozens of them to nothing with this flaming sword, easily enough. All I have to do is bring the blade in my right hand down and split his skull in two—
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I can't. I can't do it.
In sheer despair I simply wait for him to tear into me. But instead of teeth on the nape of my neck—
Thud.
A dull impact rings out, like a club striking flesh.
"...?"
I open my eyes, carefully.
Arit has Gillot pinned to the floor, her club driven down against his chest. Rings of light lock his hands and his feet, binding all four limbs to the marble.
Kiek— kyaaak!
Even with his limbs pinned, he thrashes with everything he has, trying somehow to break free.
"Sir Renit."
Arit calls me in a low, grave voice I have never heard from her before.
"If you cannot bring yourself to do it, I will guide him to salvation in your place."
She lifts her head and looks at me. Those golden eyes seem to see straight through to whatever I am trying not to feel.
...Now it is my turn to decide.
"No. This is something I have to do."
Step. Heavy step. I force my unwilling feet toward him. After what feels like an eternity, I finally stand at his side.
Grrrrk... kraaak!
The moment he sees me, his hostility surges. He shrieks and thrashes harder.
I glance down at the sword gripped in my right hand. Herta's blade is still burning, black and red. I reverse my grip with both hands and drive the flaming sword down toward the zombie's brow—
I open my eyes.
A familiar white ceiling. I sit up and look around the dark room. My room. My room on the first floor of the annex set aside for the servants. The wardrobe, the desk, the bed I was lying on—every piece of it is the furniture I use every day. And yet even this space, which ought to be utterly familiar, feels strange to me now.
I get up. I am not tired, but moving my legs feels awkward all the same. I walk to the window and look at the sky. A moon just past its first quarter hangs in the night. I stare at it blankly, thinking of nothing.
Grrrk...
"!"
Gillot's face, turned zombie, flashes through my mind without warning.
"Damn it..."
I whip my head from side to side. Bang. Bang. I slam my forehead against the wall again and again, and still the image burned into me—Gillot, become a zombie—will not go away.
"Haa..."
I put my back to the wall and slide down it until I am sitting on the floor.
...
I wouldn't call myself a fan, but in my previous life I used to watch zombie movies whenever I had a little time to spare. And in those movies, doesn't that kind of character show up all the time? The one who can't bring themselves to kill a family member or a lover who has turned, and ends up getting bitten too. Every time I saw them I thought, privately, how frustrating they were. Hesitating like that doesn't only put you in danger. It puts everyone around you in danger as well. You shut your eyes once, and you finish it. Isn't that right?
"Haha..."
A hollow laugh slips out of me.
And yet when I was the one standing in that exact situation, all I did was close my eyes and do nothing. It isn't as if I was especially close with Gillot. I had only known him for two months. Even so, the moment I faced him as a zombie, my body locked up and I couldn't do a thing.
I think of the zombies I killed today. I can't even remember their faces anymore, but when you get down to it, they were human once too. It frightens me. I am afraid of the version of myself that cut off those heads without a second thought—heads that once belonged to people. And I am afraid of the version of myself who, from now on, will see Gillot every time a zombie comes at me, hesitate, and fail to protect Esmela and everyone else around her.
Knock, knock.
"?"
Someone is knocking.
Who is it, in the middle of the night?
I get up off the floor, go to the door, and answer with care.
"Who is it?"
"It's Elina."
Elina. The head maid.
I open the door in a rush.
A proper Victorian maid's uniform, falling to the shin. A beautiful woman with a black bob stands in the doorway. Her black eyes, glinting where they catch the moonlight, rest steadily on me.
"Ah... what brings you here? The women on staff aren't supposed to come and go from the men's quarters as they please..."
"I'm aware."
She cuts me off, flat.
"Then... is it that urgent?"
Elina gives a single, slow nod.
"Lady Esmela is calling for you. Go to her office at once."