Regressing Through the Apocalypse with the Third Male Lead-Chapter 18 Nightmare 2.2

One Past Life Ago of Freyah

December 21, 2024

Fort Santiago

Continuation...

***

Freyah stared at him, her voice hushed in awe. "What... what is that? A skill? Magic?"

Tatay Timothy shook his head. "I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s useful. With this power, I can store food and supplies, which could save lives." He grinned at her but quickly added, "But this could also attract trouble. So, Freyah, promise me you’ll keep this a secret."

"I will," Freyah said with a reassuring smile, still marveling at the phenomenon. This was her first encounter of skills.

Her gaze shifted between Timothy’s hand and the burger. Then, she glanced at Cherylle, lying on the bed. "That kind of food is probably a luxury now. Honestly, I’m a little jealous," she said with a light laugh.

Timothy joined in her laughter, and for a brief moment, the gloom of the apocalypse seemed to lift.

"If we ever find the right ingredients, I’ll make you something like this. For now, this one’s reserved for my kid," Tatay Timothy said, laughing heartily. "Did I ever mention I’m a baker?"

"Not yet," Freyah replied, a hint of surprise in her voice. "But really?"

"Yes, indeed! So, once Cherylle wakes up, I’ll go out there, find the ingredients, and make you all the bread and burgers you can eat."

Freyah smiled warmly. "I’ll hold you to that, then. I’m already looking forward to it." She glanced at Cherylle, still unconscious on the bed, and her expression softened. "Wake up soon, Cherylle. You’ve got a lot to look forward to."

Tatay Timothy chuckled. "You seem more cheerful than usual."

"Of course," Freyah said with a playful shrug. "Who wouldn’t get excited at the thought of good food?"

"Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right," Tatay Timothy teased, his laughter filling the small space.

Freyah joined in the laughter, the sound offering a brief reprieve from the harshness of their reality. She never imagined it would be the last time she would share such a moment with him.

The next morning, Freyah began her routine as usual. She woke up at 5:30 a.m., knowing that being late could mean missing her chance to receive food on time. By 6:00 a.m., she was already in line, receiving her ration of bread and warm water from the soldiers.

Stepping out of the line, she paused to look at the sky. The colors of dawn—red, orange, and blue—blended together, casting a surreal glow over the camp. Feeling a flicker of excitement, she headed toward Tatay Timothy’s tent, eager to greet him and start the day with another lighthearted conversation.

"Good morning, Tatay Timoth—" Her voice faltered as she stepped inside the tent.

Her eyes widened in horror, and the bread and cup of water slipped from her hands, falling to the ground with a soft thud.

Tatay Timothy sat motionless in his chair, a knife buried deep into his head. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the dirt floor. On the bed, Cherylle lay still, blood smeared across her head and the sheets.

"Ah... ah..." Freyah’s voice broke, her body trembling as she took a step back.

Her knees gave way, and she collapsed onto the ground, unable to tear her eyes from the gruesome scene.

"Ahhh!!!"

Her scream tore through the air, echoing across the camp. Soldiers and survivors rushed toward the tent.

---

Moments later...

Freyah stood outside the tent, her mind blank and her heart heavier than ever. The world around her seemed muted, as if the weight of the tragedy had silenced everything.

"Freyah... you’re Freyah, right?" a soldier approached her, his voice soft yet cautious.

She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the tent behind him.

"This is for you," the soldier said, handing her a small package sealed in a plastic zip bag.

Freyah stared at the package for a moment before taking it from his hands. Inside was a burger. Along with it was a folded letter.

Her trembling fingers unfolded the note, and she began to read:

---

Dear Freyah,

I’m sorry I can’t fulfill my promise to you. If you’re reading this, it means I’m already gone.

Cherylle... she woke up last night. But it was too late—she had already turned into a zombie. I killed her, Freyah. I had no choice, but even knowing that, I can’t bear to live with what I’ve done.

I hope you survive, Freyah. I truly hope so.

We’ll be watching over you from above now.

P.S. That burger is yours. I don’t want it to go to waste, especially in times like this when food is so precious.

Thank you, Freyah, for the short but meaningful time we spent together. I hope you find your family soon. I know that they are still alive out there somewhere. Just be strong unlike me.

— Tatay Timothy

---

The soldiers later burned the bodies of Tatay Timothy and Cherylle, as was protocol, and made a small burial for their ashes. Freyah stood alone at the makeshift grave, staring blankly at the simple markers of a wooden plank shaped into cross. Everything had happened so fast. Just yesterday, they had been laughing together, hopeful amidst the chaos. Now, all that remained was silence.

Her eyes drifted down to the burger in her hands. It was a chicken burger, still intact and clean within its plastic seal. Or at least, it seemed so. But Freyah didn’t care anymore.

She took a bite, her tears falling silently as she chewed. Then another bite, and another, until the taste began to overwhelm her.

"It’s delicious," she whispered between sobs, her voice trembling. "Much better than that plain bread." She took another bite, tears streaming freely now.

"You’re wrong, Tatay Timothy," she choked out, her voice cracking. "I am a picky eater. And I was really looking forward to tasting the bread and pastries you promised. Why... why did this have to happen?"

Her sobs grew louder as she continued eating, clutching the burger as if it were the last connection to him. She cried and ate, her sorrow pouring out with every bite.

Freyah stayed by their graves the whole night, the weight of loss pressing down on her as the world around her continued its slow descent into chaos.

***

Back in the Present

December 17, 2024

East Rembo, Taguig

5 PM

---

"So, what are we having for dinner?" Gwenette asked, eyeing the ingredients laid out on the counter.

"What about burgers?" Freyah suggested with a grin. "Tatay Timothy used to say he was a baker. He could bake bread, pastries, and even make burgers."

"Really?" Gwenette’s eyes lit up with delight.

"Yeah. I’ll go ask him if he can help. Where is he?"

"He’s in the living room."

"Great, I’ll ask him now," Gwenette said, standing up.

As Gwenette walked toward the door, Freyah murmured softly to herself, "I always look forward to the day I could taste his baking..."

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Gwenette stopped mid-step, turning to face her.

"Nothing," Freyah quickly replied.

"Liar."

"It’s not important. Just go."

Gwenette raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, whatever," she said, shrugging before heading out of the room.

Freyah let out a quiet sigh, her smile fading as her thoughts lingered on Tatay Timothy.

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