the happy

The blade sunk deep into flesh and skull with a satisfying thump.
I stifle the beginning of a grin underneath my gas mask, must not let the happy come out just yet.
I pull the hatchet from the dead head..heh heh…a small luagh…stile, stifle.
I can hear more of them downstairs…more poor victems…more blood, and flesh.
Something stumbles up the stairs…good, they know I am here..heh heh…stifle.
Meaty fist assault the door, heavy shadows block the light from the bottom.
I reach into my bag, pulling the 5lb sledge hammer free. I broke it’s long handle once when I stabbed and young girl through her rotted chest.
I feel a surge of happy at this memory…stifle..heh…stifle!
The door splinters, its hinges beg to lrt go of the wood holding them in place.
They do so want me..my next victems…heh..heh.
Through the cracks I count about 5 heads just waiting to be split.
Hammer in one hand, hatchet in my other.
I rise to face the pounding ghouls on the other side of the door.
Outside, gunfire erupts from the porch. Lights flare through the windows behind me. Casting the room in a green light.
“komradz are here…”
I turn at the sound of the door hitting the floor, as 6 ghouls stumble in.
I let the gas mask fall, taking in the sweet smell of rotted flesh…blood…
“heh, heh..” I let the happy out…….