II. Nightmares

Ferdinand has been sleepless these past few days, not only because of his busy work but also because he's been worrying over his daughter and grandson. He was also very sad, due to his son-in-law's unexpected passing. He's been observing his daughter, and he knows she's been trying her best to remain calm.

Ferdinand sighed as he arranged his thoughts. He keeps thinking—human life is indeed so fickle, so fragile and so easy to take. No matter how humans have evolved this far, humanity is still in a disadvantageous position against the millions of undead, awaiting them just outside these tall walls that are protecting their base. Everyone knew that sooner or later, they would lose their lives in this huge battle against fate, but when it really comes to the time that people lose someone they love along the process—it is still very hard for someone to accept it.

Ferdinand could only wish that Dior would find his peace, as Ferdinand promised to protect the Family Dior left behind.

When Farrah came in, she saw her father's dazed and haggard look, making her feel even more guilty. During these days she's been locking herself inside the hospital acting like a “selfless hero” but only she knew that she's actually acting selfishly all this time. 

Her father is a senior researcher, and his work is more vital to humanity than hers. In this time of crisis, does she have the right to act selfishly as Eden said?

Throwing her bag on the couch, she softly called her father. “Dad?”

Ferdinand jumped in surprise when he heard her daughter's voice whom he hadn't seen much these past few days. Looking at his daughter's sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, he seems to see his wife with the same appearance before she passed away. Ferdinand immediately gave his daughter a hug, whispering: “It's been hard on you, Fae. I'm sorry, it's daddy's fault. It's because I'm still in a bottleneck with my research, and can't produce an antidote anytime soon... If I was able to finish my—”

“Stop,” Farrah cut her father's words off before he could finish his ramblings. Sighing, Farrah broke away from her father's embrace gently. “...Don't blame yourself, Dad. Dior's accident, it has nothing to do with you. It was the zombies. I know you've been doing your best, and I'm already thankful for that. For now, let's try to move forward—if Dior's here—he would agree with me.”

Ferdinand no longer argued. Hearing Farrah's determination to move on, he was relieved. He could only hope that Farrah would be able to cry out all her agonies instead of bottling it up inside her.

Smiling at his daughter, he asked. “DaeDae has been waiting for you to come home. Come and give him a big hug.”

Ferdinand went inside the master bedroom, taking the giggling Dae with him. When Farrah saw her son, another sharp tingling sensation appeared on her shattered heart.

Dad noticed the depressing atmosphere inside the room, influencing his own emotion. As he was about to cry, he saw her mother's familiar face. All the tears that were about to break out disappeared, replaced by joy and delight.

“Mama! Mama!”

Farrah smiled, her pain minimized. Sure enough, if Dior is her kryptonite, then Dae is her antidote.

“Hi, baby. Did you miss mama?”

*

Farrah's dreaming. Inside her dream, there seems to be endless darkness and the only thing she could see was a large iron door covered with cobwebs, dust, and dirt, proving that the door she was seeing wasn't opened for a very long time. There's no sound, just deafening silence. She took a step forward, another, and another. When she was in front of the door, she hesitantly stretched her arm, checking if the door was locked.

Surprisingly, it was not. Using minimum strength, she slowly pushed the door open. She closed her eyes, in fear that any monster would pounce on her the moment the door completely opened, yet seconds passed and no monster devoured her whole. Farrah slowly opened her eyes, her long and curled eyelashes fluttering like butterflies. 

She thought the room would be filled with blood, monsters, or even dead bodies like those dreams she used to have back in college, but instead of those—a familiar master bedroom greeted her. It was exactly like the one, in reality, the only difference was the man sitting on the side of the bed with her back facing her, both familiar and unfamiliar to Farrah.

It's Dior.

Farrah's whole body began shaking, her feet moving on their own, as she began moving towards her husband. As if hearing her movements, Dior slowly turned around.

When Farrah saw Dior's face, she froze.

Dior's face was pale, having a huge contrast to the crimson blood smeared on the lower part of his face—his mouth, his chin, his cheeks, and nose. There's a flip inside Farrah's stomach. She wanted to cry, yet no noise seemed to escape her mouth. She wanted to call her husband's name, yet her mouth inside the dream remained shut. 

“F...Fae...Fae?”

Dior's hoarse voice tinged with confusion pierced Farrah's heart. It's been so long since she heard his voice calling her nickname so intimately. She instinctively wanted to call back with Dio, but her mouth refused to heed any of her thoughts.

Farrah's silence seems to have stimulated something in Dior, because the latter stood up in a stiff manner, and slowly made his way towards Farrah. As he neared him, Farrah's heartbeat also started accelerating. The newly widowed woman greedily observed her dead husband's face despite the blood smeared on his face, no matter how he looks—he's always so handsome.

“...Fae...Fae?”

Farrah badly wanted to say yes, but no noise came out from her. She could only express her longing through her eyes. 

“...Fae...want...eat?” Dior growled, slowly extending his hand—and this time, Farrah noticed something in her husband's hands. Something bloody, a lump of meat—extremely familiar to a doctor like Farrah.

This time, there's nothing but chill inside Farrah's heart. At this moment, fear mixed with pain assaulted her senses because what was sitting on her husband's hand was a half-eaten brain of a human. 

Farrah woke up in a silent scream, her chest undulating fast. She gripped her quilt so hard she almost tore it apart. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm down. It's just a dream, but could it really be nothing but a dream? Dior died in the hands of zombies. There's a 70% possibility that he would evolve into a powerful zombie, knowing how powerful he used to be when he was still alive—but it doesn't mean Farrah dismissed the remaining 30% possibility that Dior is completely eaten by starving flesh-eating monsters and was left with nothing but bones.

It's so frightening to think about. 

Glancing at the sleeping David, Farrah stood up and went to the table near the bed. Pouring herself a glass of water, she drank three glasses of water in a row—somehow, it made her regain a bit of her composure. 

As she was about to head back to bed, a buzzing sound from her bag caught her attention. Call? Looking at the clock, it's already midnight, who would call this time? Could there be an emergency at the hospital?

With furrowed brows, Farrah took her phone out of her bag. She blinked as she looked at the caller's ID. What she saw almost made her throw her phone on the wall because on the phone's screen was a familiar caller ID that used to make her happy every time she receives the call, but now, there's nothing but the desire to throw away the phone remained inside Farrah's mind.

Calling... 

Husband Dio

Decline / Accept

Farrah felt like she's going crazy. It's probably because of her lack of sleep that she's been having delusions. No longer glancing at the vibrating phone, she tossed it inside the first compartment of her cabinet and went back to bed. Maybe this time, she would dream about something happy and wasn't morbid like the last one.

With these thoughts in her mind, Farrah surrendered into dreamland once again.

*

When morning came, Farrah discovered that her father left very early, yet still cooked them breakfast. He also left a note saying that a mercenary team brought a level-3 zombie for the researchers and scientists to study. It might give them crucial information in creating an antidote. 

It seems that the antidote was finally on its way to completion. It's just a pity that Dior wasn't able to survive before that day. 

'Dio, you bastard! Why die at this time? When there's a huge possibility that the antidote is about to be completed?'

She buried her thoughts at the back of her mind, took a shower, and finally decided to clean up her mess during these past few days. If Dior was still alive, Farrah's quite sure he'll scold her for being unhygienic. It's probably the same even when he's only a spirit. Who knows maybe he's scolding Farrah right now, right?

It reminds her of years ago before the apocalypse happened. Back then, Dior used to be a neat-freak, indifferent, cold, and God of Learning—while Farrah was arrogant and a domineering student in her department. When these types of people collide, there's a huge rivalry tension between the two of them.

No one knows that years later, they would be married and even have a child together.

Just 3 years ago, a mysterious virus came from a mountainous village. No one knows what this virus is about, people just turned ill all of a sudden then would die after a few hours. Vomiting, high fever, loss of muscle control, diarrhea, uncontrollable hunger, and death. After a few minutes of death, they would re-animate and began attacking people in their sight. Their instinct was to pass the virus and eat their victims. 

This virus caught people off-guard. Because it wasn't concealed from the public, people began to panic. People fled left and right, and the government lost control of the people. It made it harder for the higher-ups to minimize the damage, and it also made it easy for the virus to spread. 

Lack of action led to the world's first-ever apocalypse in modern times—many people died no matter who they were. Rich, poor, kids, older people, women, men—everyone was affected.