The Last Painting by E.G.S.P.

Here is another great submission from E.G.S.P.! Enjoy this wonderful dystopian story which will surely keep you at the edge of your seat!

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The rain was pelting down on the car as the two drove further and further away from the city.

Danielle hummed and glanced back at the rearview mirror. She saw Xye there. His tall frame was curled up on the seats and a pair of arms wrapped around the bag where he kept his painting materials.

His breathing was calm and soft, normally paced. For once, his face looked contented, an icon of peace even though his tattered and blood-stained clothes said otherwise. In front of them were emptied cars and cracks scattered across the road.

Danielle frowned as she stepped on the brakes as gently as she could, always remembering to keep an eye on Xye at the back. Despite the danger that loomed over them, waking Xye up with sudden swerves and sharp bumps was the last thing she wanted to do. Both needed a good night's sleep, and she made sure Xye got his.

As they began to drive into the countryside, her eyes peeled started becoming heavy. But she knew she had to go on, it wasn't safe to stop in a place where they weren't hidden. She didn't want to see figures in the distance, figures that moved awkwardly with peeling skin and dripping blood down their fingers, figures that would go to any part that gave off light or noise.

Strengthening her resolve, she stopped looking at Xye's sleeping figure and began to stare at the road, and only the road. She had to keep going, Xye's life was in her hands now. He could be killed any second if she wasn't careful.

She shut off the headlights, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She just hoped that luck and fate were on their side.

Cold rations and snacks from the nearby pharmacy were the only things that Danielle had in her bag.

"How did you get dried food?"

Xye's eyebrows were raised as he sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, his hands wrapped around the small package of crackers.

They had decided to stay in an abandoned house for the night, the car parked outside. The only source of light they had with them was the candle between them, even flickering dimly.

His weary face was nearly invisible, and Danielle wasn't sure what to feel about it. Maybe she should feel grateful that she couldn't see the exhaustion and fear that mirrored hers, maybe not.

She shrugged in response. "The army base had their rations out in the open. I got it from them."

Xye frowned in reply. "They couldn't even protect their food properly, and many expected that they would protect us. No wonder everyone died."

His voice was bitter, cracking once he uttered the last few words.

Danielle stayed silent, putting a cracker in her mouth and looking into the darkness, not being able to see the person her life started to depend on once the news of the virus came around.

"Remember when we thought school was stressful?"

Xye scoffed as he reached into the wrapping for more crackers as he reminisced those memories. "Mmmm, remember when everyone complained about the workload?"

"Oh yeah."

In the limited light, she could see a small smile on his face. Even though it seemed like a beacon of hope to some people, it made Danielle frown. That small smile was too reminiscent of the once carefree grin he had.

"How can I forget the first all-nighter we pulled off?"

"If you didn't remember, I would've been disappointed."

"Same here." Xye sighed. He turned away from Danielle to glance at their painting materials on the side. The bags were covered in dirt and blood and who knew what else, but she had to admire how his face brightened up at the sight of them. That despite the whole virus, that despite the constant fleeing, that despite the loss of his family members, he still cared more about art, one thing that never changed. Danielle could only wish she could say the same.

She watched as the flame began to dim, smaller and smaller, taking the both of them into complete darkness. She dreamed of a memory. A change from the usual nightmares she had of the bloody figures catching up on them.

"What would be the last painting you would want to make for the rest of your life? If you can never hold a paintbrush ever again?" she had asked Xye once.

He had replied, "Us. The first time we met."

She was dragged back into that memory. She remembered it as if it were only yesterday. He had been told to take summer classes by the art teacher. According to him, art had to be hated by everyone, why couldn't they take photos? She, on the other hand, wanted extra credit to pull up her average.

Just like that, people who felt the opposite of art became friends. Both of them growing up, loving art.

Her dream ended, and she was jerked back into reality. "Xye, you're very impetuous."

Danielle had tears running down her face as she carried the heavier person to a quieter place in the basement, where they had set up camp. She was breathless when she set Xye down on the white table, blood spilling all over the floor from his open wound. Her hands shook uncontrollably, she knew she wasn't prepared for this. She had always accepted that they would survive together.

Xye let out a groan. "Shush. I know I am. Now hurry up and get out of this place."

"I'm not going to go-"

"I'm going to die, Dani. I'm gonna die. But you don't need to die with me."

Danielle took a breath. She couldn't meet Xye's eyes now. Instead, she chose to focus on the bite marks and scratches on his leg, looking for a way, some way to cure it, there had to be one.

"You still have a few hours left. I'll wait with you until then."

"No." His voice was firm. "You have to go, Dani. You know that the changing time is different for everyone. I could-"

"Did I not make it clear, Xye? I'm not going." She was met with silence, only his breathing was heard.

"Fine."

She sighed as she walked over to the supplies. Her mind was running with the events that had occurred, which had gone by like a blur. They had been looking for food at the market. They had been ambushed. She could see it, clear as day, wanting to push it aside, but it was to no avail.

If anything, she should have been the one to die, not Xye. It was her fault for not checking if the weapon safety was on or off. It was most certainly her fault for panicking and being unable to do anything as one of those monsters chased her towards the halls. It was her fault for being cornered and not being able to fight against them. It was her fault for being so weak that Xye had to show up and take things into his own hands, physically fighting the monster with a kitchen knife. Now here they were.

She swallowed, the lump in her throat growing by the second. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to apologize to Xye. She had tried, but something told him it was the last thing he would want to hear. And for that, she respected his wishes.

After taking a few shaky breaths, she took Xye's bag and his painting materials, to get it closer to the pained figure on the table. Maybe it would help him feel at home, even in the last moments of his life.

"Do you want anything? Food? Water?"

"This is ridiculous, but can you pass me my painting materials?"

"The bag?"

"Yeah. Do you think zombies can paint? Or will this be my last time?" he asked as he used air quotations when he used the word zombies.

Danielle didn't say anything as she unpacked his easel and his palette. It was pure, pristine, devoid of the dirt and blood the two had gone through. She flinched at the sight of the blood that stained the canvas and the paintbrushes as he gripped them tightly in his hands. But Xye didn't seem to mind as he struggled to sit up.

He began taking the paint, mixing them to make the best colors he could think of, humming the tune that reminded both of them of life before. He always had, every time he painted, the melody was always there. And it was something that they had grown to love.

He tried his best to remember everything, what she had looked like, what she had worn, what he did. Everything. Each and every detail made their memory unique and memorable.

She was silent the whole time, she didn't say anything as she watched him paint the memory she cherished the most. The strokes and even the imperfections, they seemed to have made the picture more perfect. Seeing it, she could no longer control her emotions, and Xye was buried in too deep to hear what she had to say.

"I'm sorry, Xye." But he was gone, his last painting as a man completed and as perfect as a picture.

Being alone in the apocalypse was a new experience for Danielle.

Every once in a while, she would paint a little, using the scraps she could find. It was always one of the memories before the apocalypse, one of those that made her feel like she was with Xye, with her family, and with her friends. But alas, she would always have to go back to the nightmare called reality.

She leaned her back against the wall of the empty and abandoned apartment, making sure that the door was locked and the windows were shut before pulling out Xye's last painting. It didn't feel right to leave him without the object he prized the most, but he had insisted on giving it to her.

There was still dried blood staining the back of the canvas, and it served as a reminder of who had owned it. She held back tears as she saw the signature he placed at the bottom, it was what made the painting special. She wouldn't let any fall down, she had made a promise to stop crying and to get over it, to survive and keep holding on.

"I don't care if I'm going to die. Dani, look at me, please."

She did.

"Keep going. Beat the apocalypse, for the both of us. Live the best life you can. Don't let your emotions get in the way of your survival." Tears had filled both their eyes as he said this, his final breath taken and her final moment lived.

After four weeks, she decided to visit the basement where Xye had transformed. Her painting bag was still on the table, along with his. Both were still covered in blood and the dirt, a reminder of what they had gone through.

She had brought a knife, taking in a deep breath as she steeled herself to do what she had to. There seemed to be no end to the nightmare of reality, and Danielle accepted that it was how she would live the rest of her life.

But at least, she could end Xye's nightmare.

She took a step into the basement, the knife in his hand turning colder in her palm as she began to lose confidence. But she had to do it. For the Xye she once knew. She needed to know that he wouldn't be killed by someone else, someone who didn't know anything about the young man she had grown up with. She had to know that his nightmare wouldn't continue if ever the organization would take him as a lab experiment for tests that wouldn't even help. Perhaps they would find a cure if they did, but she had lost all hope on that now.

Expecting to hear his footsteps as Xye walked listlessly, she was surprised as she was met with the sound that chilled her to the bone. She had forgotten about it because she had let go of the tune she loved a long time ago. It reminded her too much of Xye.

But at that moment, she knew it was him. Someone who had transformed into the monster they had once run from. His voice, the same tune, and even some noise of what seemed like an easel being dropped, his clumsy nature had always led him to do this.

But no, it couldn't be.

As she peeked through the curtains separating the basement and the stairs, she learned that it really was. Xye was right there, humming complacently as he took up her brush and painted more of the memories they had shared together.

They had only packed two canvas, but that didn't stop him. He painted on the once bleak walls of the basement, making it full of color. He had lost the careful approach he used to have as he brought the surface to life, but she could tell it was the same Xye who loved painting.

And just then, the question rang loudly through her mind. "Do you think zombies can paint?"

She could still hear his soft humming. His labored breathing. The brush against the walls. The paint on the easel. The little details that couldn't have been true, but they were.

The knife grew heavier. He wasn't living a nightmare after all. But was this the type of life the Xye she knew would want to live? She knew she couldn't ask him now. He was gone, but looking at the figure before her more closely, she could see that a part of him was still there.

Overwhelmed with the emotions, she dropped the knife, making a noise that echoed through the basement. Xye stopped and stared right at her as if he had known she was there all along.

And in his eyes, hunger. Of course, he couldn't get out, no one was there in the basement, he would really be hungry. And right now, Danielle was his food. She quickly picked the knife up, ready to defend herself.

She knew Xye wasn't there anymore, he was truly gone. Not even a part of him was left in her eyes. And if he was, then he was stuck there, fighting to do the right thing. But with this nature, it was impossible. And that was how she decided to end the nightmare for him, once and for all.

As he approached, she readied the position of the knife, and as he ran through her, blood seeped through. And as the life drained out of him forever, he continued to attack her. And this time, it was more than a wound. This time, it was one that would cost her life.

But she didn't care, and as they fell to the floor, tears streamed down both their eyes. There was still some human emotion deep down there. And as they held hands taking their final breath, they realized. The last painting the two had ever painted were memories they had shared, and they all showed how much they meant to each other.