But Now He's a Zombie
One.
Joseph was my best friend, but now he's a zombie. He's pounding on my bathroom door, but I won't let him inside. This has gone on for almost two days. I am really tired, hungry, and terrified. Not to mention, I'm fucking miserable because my best friend is dead for all intents and purposes.
There is a window above my shower. Although I'm petrified at the thought of what might be lurking out there, I think I've got to try climbing out of it. I just can't stand to hear him moan anymore, and -let's face it- I'm afraid to die. Out there, my chances are slim, but at least I have them. In here, I slowly die of starvation, which is already becoming kind of painful.
Here goes nothing. "Goodbye, Joseph," I whisper tearfully. I take one last second to breathe and collect myself. I approach the window, and I unlatch it. It's opening cautiously; so far so good, I don't hear or see anything. I begin my ascent, and then my short fall to the ground. I give a slight cry because it was rougher than I'd thought it would be, but I recover quickly anyway because I have to.
I can hear someone shuffle closer to the bushes I am now hiding within. So much for getting away clean. Well, maybe I still can.
My stomach growls. Fuck. Now the shuffling speeds up, and I've got to get out of what has now become a trap. I'm going to literally run for my life. Pray for me.
Luckily for me, I am a fast runner, and zombies are seriously slow. Maybe I could even walk away from this scene, but instinct won't let my feet slow down at all. They will sprint this blistering pace until I completely give out.
Now I'm fleeing from a mob of them. I have sucessfully escaped my own house and yard, but now I'm on the streets, and more walking dead keep coming out of the wood works. Maybe starvation wouldn't have been so bad.
I think this has now gone on for about an hour. I've slowed down considerably. My whole body is screaming. I can't run anymore. Hell, I can barely walk. I'm still faster than them, but probably not for much longer.
I've got to hide somewhere, at least until I regain some strength. That is, if I ever can regain some strength. I'm starting to think I'm dead no matter what I do.
There's a house with a front window open. I don't know if that's a good or bad sign, but I've got to take it. I make one last dash to it and scramble through it. I wonder if my brain-dead companions can navigate windows. At any rate, they can't do it as fast as me, I assume.
I look around the dark, abandoned home. I don't hear or see any signs of life or, for that matter, the sort-of-dead. I turn around with a sudden thought, and I slam the window shut, severing a curious hand in the process.
My stomach issues a quiet, desperate rumble. My mouth is pretty dry as well, and I'm shaking. I half-walk and half-stumble into the nearby kitchen. I open the refrigerator and almost immediately down a whole carton of orange juice. I rummage through the contents for food of any kind, and I hear a loud banging on the back door of the house. I hope it'll hold them, but I have my doubts.
As I begin my haphazard meal of basically anything edible that I can get my hands on, the sound of glass breaking echoes through the place. Shit. Then there's a loud bang, and a resounding crash follows it. Shit, shit, shit. I can hear moaning. I swallow a piece of cheese, and I vacate this doorless room.
Walking briskly through the home, I find myself in a hallway and spot another bathroom to lock myself in. No zombies inside, and no zombies allowed now. I sigh with resignation and lock myself inside. Here I go again.
Of course, last time I was evading only one zombie. Now it's a horde. I realize this once it's too late. The banging begins, and my breath catches in my throat. This is it. As they gather, the banging gets crazier. The door is shaking, and I don't think it will last much longer. It's breaking. Goodbye. The door is gone, and the crowd floods in with me.
They're fighting over me. I'm being bitten, ripped, and tugged at in some way on every inch of my body. I am screaming in a primal voice that I can't even recognize. This is torture; this is pain. This is...death...Everything goes black for a while.
Seemingly miraculously, I am awake an hour or so later. I feel weird, and when I try to think it just kind of feels fuzzy. I'm not even too sure how I ended up here now. I'm covered in blood and barely clothed. There are holes, punctures, gashes-you name it- all over my body. I resurrect like the rest of them. I want something else to eat now, and I scent the air in search of it. I have an odd taste in my mouth.
There is a window above my shower. Although I'm petrified at the thought of what might be lurking out there, I think I've got to try climbing out of it. I just can't stand to hear him moan anymore, and -let's face it- I'm afraid to die. Out there, my chances are slim, but at least I have them. In here, I slowly die of starvation, which is already becoming kind of painful.
Here goes nothing. "Goodbye, Joseph," I whisper tearfully. I take one last second to breathe and collect myself. I approach the window, and I unlatch it. It's opening cautiously; so far so good, I don't hear or see anything. I begin my ascent, and then my short fall to the ground. I give a slight cry because it was rougher than I'd thought it would be, but I recover quickly anyway because I have to.
I can hear someone shuffle closer to the bushes I am now hiding within. So much for getting away clean. Well, maybe I still can.
My stomach growls. Fuck. Now the shuffling speeds up, and I've got to get out of what has now become a trap. I'm going to literally run for my life. Pray for me.
Luckily for me, I am a fast runner, and zombies are seriously slow. Maybe I could even walk away from this scene, but instinct won't let my feet slow down at all. They will sprint this blistering pace until I completely give out.
Now I'm fleeing from a mob of them. I have sucessfully escaped my own house and yard, but now I'm on the streets, and more walking dead keep coming out of the wood works. Maybe starvation wouldn't have been so bad.
I think this has now gone on for about an hour. I've slowed down considerably. My whole body is screaming. I can't run anymore. Hell, I can barely walk. I'm still faster than them, but probably not for much longer.
I've got to hide somewhere, at least until I regain some strength. That is, if I ever can regain some strength. I'm starting to think I'm dead no matter what I do.
There's a house with a front window open. I don't know if that's a good or bad sign, but I've got to take it. I make one last dash to it and scramble through it. I wonder if my brain-dead companions can navigate windows. At any rate, they can't do it as fast as me, I assume.
I look around the dark, abandoned home. I don't hear or see any signs of life or, for that matter, the sort-of-dead. I turn around with a sudden thought, and I slam the window shut, severing a curious hand in the process.
My stomach issues a quiet, desperate rumble. My mouth is pretty dry as well, and I'm shaking. I half-walk and half-stumble into the nearby kitchen. I open the refrigerator and almost immediately down a whole carton of orange juice. I rummage through the contents for food of any kind, and I hear a loud banging on the back door of the house. I hope it'll hold them, but I have my doubts.
As I begin my haphazard meal of basically anything edible that I can get my hands on, the sound of glass breaking echoes through the place. Shit. Then there's a loud bang, and a resounding crash follows it. Shit, shit, shit. I can hear moaning. I swallow a piece of cheese, and I vacate this doorless room.
Walking briskly through the home, I find myself in a hallway and spot another bathroom to lock myself in. No zombies inside, and no zombies allowed now. I sigh with resignation and lock myself inside. Here I go again.
Of course, last time I was evading only one zombie. Now it's a horde. I realize this once it's too late. The banging begins, and my breath catches in my throat. This is it. As they gather, the banging gets crazier. The door is shaking, and I don't think it will last much longer. It's breaking. Goodbye. The door is gone, and the crowd floods in with me.
They're fighting over me. I'm being bitten, ripped, and tugged at in some way on every inch of my body. I am screaming in a primal voice that I can't even recognize. This is torture; this is pain. This is...death...Everything goes black for a while.
Seemingly miraculously, I am awake an hour or so later. I feel weird, and when I try to think it just kind of feels fuzzy. I'm not even too sure how I ended up here now. I'm covered in blood and barely clothed. There are holes, punctures, gashes-you name it- all over my body. I resurrect like the rest of them. I want something else to eat now, and I scent the air in search of it. I have an odd taste in my mouth.