Tag Archives: Zombie

Zombie, from Ian’s perspective

One of my readers posed an interesting question on my last post. I would suggest going and reading that, as this post is the same story from the “bad guy’s” perspective. I have to say, it was pretty hard writing from that perspective, as I wrote that particular character to be as inhuman as possible, but this is my stab at it. So without further adieu:

The rage was the worst. Whenever he saw her with them, all he could see was red, and Ian couldn’t understand why. He knew she wasn’t cheating him, knew she would never do anything to hurt him, yet as he slapped her across the face for the fourth time that night, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was going crazy. He knew she deserved so much better, but it was like she was the life raft and churning ocean all at the same time. He knew he couldn’t live with her, but was terrified to let her go. Not that she would have left anyways.

If there was anything that Sarah craved most, it was the love and acceptance of everyone around her. He knew she thought it was her fault that he beat her, and he used that to his advantage. Her parents had never given her the praise she needed or deserved, so she went looking for it wherever she could, even if that meant staying in a relationship that she should have run from a long time ago.

Six weeks after that night, she came to him in tears. He couldn’t figure out if it was because she was terrified of him or of what he was capable of. She was pregnant, and there was no doubt it was his. As much as he wanted to beat her, he held back. There was no point beating her now, and it was mostly his fault anyways. He had told her to stop taking the birth control, and even though she didn’t want kids, she obeyed. Why she listened to him in the first place was beyond Ian.

She begged him to go to an anger management class for the sake of the baby, but he refused. It took every last ounce of his strength to not beat her for that, but he resisted. He knew that above all else, that baby needed to be healthy, and beating her wasn’t going to help. Instead, he started monitoring her even more closely, even telling her she couldn’t have a baby shower. He knew it was stupid, knew that her friends would hate him even more, but he didn’t care. If he couldn’t physically hurt her, he was going to turn her into the lifeless shell everyone already thought she was. Night after night, she would cry herself to sleep. He knew he’d achieved his goal when she didn’t cry anymore.

Ian forbade Sarah’s friends and family from coming to the hospital when she gave birth. For once, she didn’t complain. He told them that if they came, he would hurt the baby. The only one who even put up a fight was Lindsey. She saw right through him, saw right through the front he put up that kept everyone else away, from looking too closely. But Lindsey had problems of her own, so she couldn’t keep as close an eye on Ian and Sarah as she would have liked, and he used that to his advantage. He knew that if she came, they would have words at the very least. He prided himself in the fact that if need be, he could take her.

What he hadn’t counted on was how much Lindsey hated him. When she saw him in the grocery store by himself, she walked right up to him and punched him, knocking him out cold. He would go home that night and beat Sarah with Samantha in the next room, screaming. The baby’s cries just egged him on. When Sarah called Lindsey the next day, it was to tell her to never call her again. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, but with one punch, Lindsey had managed to achieve what Ian had been trying to achieve for the last three years. Sarah had cut herself off from virtually everyone she knew.

The night Ian came home to find her packing caught him off guard. She had loaded the baby up in the car, but hadn’t realized what time it was. She was closing the last suitcase when he came barreling through the door, baseball bat in hand. The first swing hit her across the back. He laughed when he heard her spine crack and watched her crumple to the floor, unable to move.  He saw the terror on her face when she realized he  was going to kill her. He grinned. He considered drawing it out, making her suffer, but in a moment of clarity, he realized he’d already killed her in every other way, so his last swing was at her head. He didn’t miss.

The neighbors had heard the commotion and had called the police. He heard the sirens as he carried the bat out to the backyard to wash it off. He was going to need it for his game on Saturday and thought people would talk if there was blood splattered all over it. As the police knocked on the door, he opened it and told them where they could find her body. He didn’t put up a fight as three officers tackled him to the ground and hand cuffed him.


When the detective walked in, Ian just smiled. He had one more request before they locked him up forever. He knew the best attorney in the world couldn’t save him, so he waived his right to counsel. He said he would admit to the murder, admit to every last thing he had done to Sarah if he could just attend the funeral and hold Samantha one last time. He knew they wouldn’t say no.

When Lindsey walked up to him at the funeral, he could tell she wanted to hurt him in any way possible. He knew he was the only person Lindsey had ever really hated, that he was the only person she wished she could hurt. It didn’t help that it was written all over her face, but he decided to fuck with her some more.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed at him as she made her way to pay her last respects.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to honor the memory of my wife,” he said, an evil grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Seeing as how you were the one to put her in that coffin, I really don’t think you have any right to ‘honor her memory,’” Lindsey said as she walked away.

He could see the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. It made him smile to know he had caused her pain, and he didn’t understand why. As the armed guard shuffled him off to the squad car, he smiled as he realized that his work here was done.


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I couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, like he OWNED her or something.  The way she looked at him scared me even more. It was like she accepted his ownership of her, like a cute puppy who doesn’t know any better looks at the owner who beats her for no reason. The bruises were the worst. Her hands were the size of cantaloupes and her wrists were black and blue from where he had grabbed her and shook her. How could a human being do that to another human being? It didn’t make sense.

Then it dawned on me. He wasn’t a human being and neither was she. He was a monster and she was a shell of her old self. All I can think about now was the promise of her life. She was smart, talented, beautiful, and funny. And when I say smart I mean a perfect score on her SAT’s and full ride scholarships to ivy-league schools all over the country smart. She could have been anything she wanted to be.

But then that bastard came along and ruined her life. He capitalized on her non-existent relationship with her parents and ran with it. I should have said something. I was supposed to be her best friend, right? The first time she came to me crying should have been the last. I should have stuck with her, even if it meant getting hurt myself. But I was too selfish, too caught up in my own mess to even really see what was going on in her life.

If the tears weren’t enough then the hospital trip should have done it. I’ll admit I acted rashly. I probably shouldn’t have knocked Ian out, even if it was what he deserved. I should have known she would have defended him. By that point he had ripped the very soul from her and turned her into a mindless zombie. I couldn’t recognize her the first time I saw her out of the hospital. She weighed maybe 95 pounds, which is small, even for her. He was starving her, trying to control every aspect of her life. When she went home that night from seeing me he beat her for leaving the house.

Six months later she became pregnant with their first child. When I found out I went directly to her parents, trying to get them to help her, but they said she had made her choices and she had to live with them. They actually had the nerve to say I should back off and let her live her own life. Before I left I asked them if they could even call what she had a life. I left before I could hear their response.

I had some hope that maybe a baby would straighten things out between them, maybe make Ian less of a monster. I was wrong. He wouldn’t even let her have a baby shower, saying they were only for good mothers who didn’t cheat on their husbands. By this point the only thing stopping me from killing him was the fact that Sarah begged me not to. The only way she was even able to communicate with the outside world was through a prepaid cell phone. He monitored all her phone calls on the house phone and her other cell phone, to the point where he would call the number, see who picked up, hang up, and go beat her if he didn’t like who she was talking to. He swore she was cheating on him with anybody and everybody, her friends included.

I don’t know that I would do anything differently. I just know that I didn’t want things to end the way they did for Sarah. I remember getting the phone call like it was yesterday, even though its been three years since he killed her. All I can remember about that day was I downed an entire bottle of jack like it was water.

The day started out normal enough. I got in my car to go to school, dredged through my classes for the day, went home, and began to prep dinner. Then the phone rang. I had chicken guts all over my hands, so I asked my mom to pick up the phone. She answered it and Sarah’s mom was on the line. My mom said it sounded urgent, so I quickly washed my hands, dried off and took the phone. All Barbara said was she’s dead, and hung up the phone. No details, no blame, no explanation. I got a card in the mail a few days later with the funeral details, but still no explanation.

The funeral was the worst. Ian was there, holding the baby like nothing had happened. The only thing that was out of place was the armed guard standing next to Ian and the shackles around his feet. I wanted to slap him, wanted to strangle the life out of his body, but I knew he would get what he deserved in the end. Barbara came up to me and apologized for hanging up, but I could barely say anything to her, I was so full of rage.

Rage at her for not doing something sooner, rage at myself for not defending her, even rage toward Sarah for not getting out when she had the chance. But I was vengeful towards Ian. Yea, I was mad at Barbara and Sarah, but I’d never wanted to kill someone so badly in my entire life. The only question I dared to ask him was what the hell was he doing there. He had put her in that coffin years before he ever killed her, and he had no right to even think he was welcome there that day.

I couldn’t bear the thought of that jerk, that bastard, that wife beater getting to live on while Sarah’s life was wasted. In my mind, he didn’t deserve to live. I just kept comforting myself with the thought that he would never be able to hurt another woman again, never be able to destroy another life. That is the only thing that allows me to sleep at night…


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