Status: Ramblings of a mixed opinion.
Field of Corpses
Zombie Cannibalism?
I wiped my mouth roughly as I walked out of the gas-station, and at that moment it started kicking in that I wished I wouldn't have done that.
I was the one looking for someone else who could be living, yet I eat one of the last survivors. I always told myself that I would never give into my 'zombie ways', but I just did. I was finally changing, and it was getting to be too late to even make it to another state, let alone California.
I walked out of the place, feeling pretty low about myself, and tried to hurry. Before I could even make it back to the paved street, I noticed more zombies coming towards the direction I just came.
"Fuck these guys can smell better than I can," I thought.
Before long, dozens were coming, and they were coming at a quicker pace. I knew they wouldn't come after me, but that was before I found myself covered in human blood. They would come after me too, now. I wasn't scared, but I wasn't exactly looking forward to a mob of dead people trying to eat me. I'd taste horrible anyway, so they'd eventually spit me back up, but I don't know if I could live through so many zombies attacking me.
The only thing I could think of doing was to run. I didn't know where to go, but I knew I had to run if I wanted to so much as make it to another city north. Before I could think more on it, I took off running in the direction I was headed before I made a pit stop at the gas-station.
As I ran, I actually felt the cool air push against my face. I found that a bit weird, but then I realized it was the adrenaline trying to kick in. With the life still left in me, my body was trying to work the way it used to.
I kept running, knowing I wouldn't get tired, and I never wanted to stop. I tried to look back, but I knew I would only stumble. I pushed myself to just keep going no matter what. I could only hope that the other zombies went into the gas-station first.
I was still human, I couldn't eat that guy completely. I left parts, but his blood was still on me, and his flesh still lingered in my mouth. Even if they all went into that gas-station, they would all keep coming after me. They must to have thought I was still human, just by the scent.
I ran as fast as I could, making it to where everything I passed on the side of me was nothing but a blur. I wasn't getting tired, but my legs could always give in. I was alone now, so I was dying a bit quicker than a few days prior. My skin was already starting to smell worse, and it was starting to tear more.
At that moment I knew I was done fore; I was becoming a zombie. Even if I made it out of this state, what would the odds be that I would find another one of me? I'd never make it to California, and I'd never be alive again. There was nothing I could do.
I went to stop running, giving up on everything, but I was quickly taken back by another zombie who managed to get in front of me. He had the meanest look on his face, so I knew he was hungry. None of the zombies had eaten after the country died off. They only got lucky a few times and happened to find those guys who think they can survive through Armageddon.
He stared me down, and I had nowhere to go. When these bastards got hungry, their speed and strength intensify. I knew I had strength too, but would the longing to live give me more than I had? I highly doubted it, so running was still my best option.
I went to step forward, and he came at me. I dodged out of his way, but he dived after me. If I were alive, I would be screaming and crying, but all I could do was keep trying. I had no more tear left to cry, even if I could. There was definitely no way screaming would help my situation, either.
I kept running, and he got up quickly. He was gaining on me now, and I was failing. I was right about not being able to have that extra strength, but I needed to try something. I couldn't just let him get me like that.
So I stopped abruptly, and I spun around quickly. I went forward to grab at his neck, but he got a hold of me first. He held onto my arms so tightly, I could hear my skin tearing again. He pulled me towards him with great strength, and I tried to keep my stance. It only made it worse, though, because it tore everything off my arm, right down to the bone. Exactly where he was holding onto me was now bare; all you could see with the bloodied bone. I now had missing skin between my wrist and elbow. Normally, I would have though it was cool, but at that moment, my only concern was the get away.
From pulling my skin off, he took it with him, and he went flying backwards. I took off running again, and was thinking of anything I could do to get the stench of human blood off me. What was left of my mind was racing, and my slowly beating heart was trying to pound.
Finally, I found where I was to rid the smell, but I had to stop and ask myself, "Could I still swim?"
I was the one looking for someone else who could be living, yet I eat one of the last survivors. I always told myself that I would never give into my 'zombie ways', but I just did. I was finally changing, and it was getting to be too late to even make it to another state, let alone California.
I walked out of the place, feeling pretty low about myself, and tried to hurry. Before I could even make it back to the paved street, I noticed more zombies coming towards the direction I just came.
"Fuck these guys can smell better than I can," I thought.
Before long, dozens were coming, and they were coming at a quicker pace. I knew they wouldn't come after me, but that was before I found myself covered in human blood. They would come after me too, now. I wasn't scared, but I wasn't exactly looking forward to a mob of dead people trying to eat me. I'd taste horrible anyway, so they'd eventually spit me back up, but I don't know if I could live through so many zombies attacking me.
The only thing I could think of doing was to run. I didn't know where to go, but I knew I had to run if I wanted to so much as make it to another city north. Before I could think more on it, I took off running in the direction I was headed before I made a pit stop at the gas-station.
As I ran, I actually felt the cool air push against my face. I found that a bit weird, but then I realized it was the adrenaline trying to kick in. With the life still left in me, my body was trying to work the way it used to.
I kept running, knowing I wouldn't get tired, and I never wanted to stop. I tried to look back, but I knew I would only stumble. I pushed myself to just keep going no matter what. I could only hope that the other zombies went into the gas-station first.
I was still human, I couldn't eat that guy completely. I left parts, but his blood was still on me, and his flesh still lingered in my mouth. Even if they all went into that gas-station, they would all keep coming after me. They must to have thought I was still human, just by the scent.
I ran as fast as I could, making it to where everything I passed on the side of me was nothing but a blur. I wasn't getting tired, but my legs could always give in. I was alone now, so I was dying a bit quicker than a few days prior. My skin was already starting to smell worse, and it was starting to tear more.
At that moment I knew I was done fore; I was becoming a zombie. Even if I made it out of this state, what would the odds be that I would find another one of me? I'd never make it to California, and I'd never be alive again. There was nothing I could do.
I went to stop running, giving up on everything, but I was quickly taken back by another zombie who managed to get in front of me. He had the meanest look on his face, so I knew he was hungry. None of the zombies had eaten after the country died off. They only got lucky a few times and happened to find those guys who think they can survive through Armageddon.
He stared me down, and I had nowhere to go. When these bastards got hungry, their speed and strength intensify. I knew I had strength too, but would the longing to live give me more than I had? I highly doubted it, so running was still my best option.
I went to step forward, and he came at me. I dodged out of his way, but he dived after me. If I were alive, I would be screaming and crying, but all I could do was keep trying. I had no more tear left to cry, even if I could. There was definitely no way screaming would help my situation, either.
I kept running, and he got up quickly. He was gaining on me now, and I was failing. I was right about not being able to have that extra strength, but I needed to try something. I couldn't just let him get me like that.
So I stopped abruptly, and I spun around quickly. I went forward to grab at his neck, but he got a hold of me first. He held onto my arms so tightly, I could hear my skin tearing again. He pulled me towards him with great strength, and I tried to keep my stance. It only made it worse, though, because it tore everything off my arm, right down to the bone. Exactly where he was holding onto me was now bare; all you could see with the bloodied bone. I now had missing skin between my wrist and elbow. Normally, I would have though it was cool, but at that moment, my only concern was the get away.
From pulling my skin off, he took it with him, and he went flying backwards. I took off running again, and was thinking of anything I could do to get the stench of human blood off me. What was left of my mind was racing, and my slowly beating heart was trying to pound.
Finally, I found where I was to rid the smell, but I had to stop and ask myself, "Could I still swim?"