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Zombie walkin!
MMMM....Brains!!!!
Created on 2005-03-08 12:41:35 (#6382705), last updated 2009-10-10
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Basic Info| Name: | Chad Ruin |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 1975-01-05 |
BioBeing December, it was cold with a thin breath of fog blanketing the ground. The moon was the end of a stick of chalk twisted into the black matte sky. All around me, the sound of staggering feet part the low lying gray. The trees were fingers clasped in prayer… I am being followed.
The slow march of the blood-bound, creep along the tall grass of the graveyard fence. They move in shadow, naked and blue. They are the souls of business men, the shells housewives, the hollow remains of children with something on their minds, more than play.
An opossum is taken into the air with deliberate grace, food for the owls. Even in the night, crows sense death and awake from slumber. Who is that crying and how do they know my name? There is a face in the horde I recognize. It’s my brother! There… behind the old man who worked at the corner market, was my mother. My best friend from second grade stands in the midst of the crowd spinning in circles. He has no arms, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
Am I the last? Are there no more like me? Are they all dead or am I? As they move toward me like a slow surge of syrup spilt on the floor, my teeth chatter. I wish I had a jacket.
I used to skip school and come here. No one knows the graveyard better then I do. I can hide in places they will never think to look, if they think at all. They are feet from me when I turn to run. One has bitten me, but I have squeezed between them to escape. It’s painful, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. I was bitten by a dog many years back. I still have no feeling in my right hand. This is somehow different, much different. A sore halo of green skin ellipses the wound. A thick, greasy film pours from its center like a baking soda and vinegar volcano. They do not follow…
The damage is done!
My muscles contort with spasms. My teeth are pained as the nerves are choked out. My jaw no longer works to scream. There is nothing I can do to fight its virus. My legs give way. I feel the grass on my face. The mortuary lights fade. I inhale the last breath I will ever take, alive that is. It is a mixture of damp fog and cold restless grass. I exhale and rise to walk amongst the dead… a zombie.
The slow march of the blood-bound, creep along the tall grass of the graveyard fence. They move in shadow, naked and blue. They are the souls of business men, the shells housewives, the hollow remains of children with something on their minds, more than play.
An opossum is taken into the air with deliberate grace, food for the owls. Even in the night, crows sense death and awake from slumber. Who is that crying and how do they know my name? There is a face in the horde I recognize. It’s my brother! There… behind the old man who worked at the corner market, was my mother. My best friend from second grade stands in the midst of the crowd spinning in circles. He has no arms, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
Am I the last? Are there no more like me? Are they all dead or am I? As they move toward me like a slow surge of syrup spilt on the floor, my teeth chatter. I wish I had a jacket.
I used to skip school and come here. No one knows the graveyard better then I do. I can hide in places they will never think to look, if they think at all. They are feet from me when I turn to run. One has bitten me, but I have squeezed between them to escape. It’s painful, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. I was bitten by a dog many years back. I still have no feeling in my right hand. This is somehow different, much different. A sore halo of green skin ellipses the wound. A thick, greasy film pours from its center like a baking soda and vinegar volcano. They do not follow…
The damage is done!
My muscles contort with spasms. My teeth are pained as the nerves are choked out. My jaw no longer works to scream. There is nothing I can do to fight its virus. My legs give way. I feel the grass on my face. The mortuary lights fade. I inhale the last breath I will ever take, alive that is. It is a mixture of damp fog and cold restless grass. I exhale and rise to walk amongst the dead… a zombie.
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