What?
I had just purchased a new flat in the middle of town. It was a little cramped, but suited my needs perfectly. The room seemed dreary, the dark colored walls and carpet enveloped the space and made me uneasy. Although the place was new, books were crammed on the shelves randomly like a jagged set of teeth, and bags and clothes littered the dirty carpet. As I lied on my bed for a while, and looked at the patterns on the stained wooden door in front of me, the sounds of bustling life on the street came to me through the tall windows behind me. Both the locks on the door were secured, but I did not feel safe.
Running. I can't remember how it started, only the feeling of terror as I held her hand and ran for my life. There were three of us, her and a fellow, and we ran through a vacant workshop. The school was closed and vacant, except for the infected and my small party. Many of the doors we tried were locked, so we continued to flee, our pursuers close behind us. We managed to find a side exit and made our way to the streets. Empty cars and bodies littered the street, and the living dead swarmed between them. My flat was just across the street, if we could only make it. We ducked down for a moment, waiting for an opening. We sprang! Across the street, over the bodies and wreckage and to the door of my flat. The three of us scampered inside. Drat! The lock is broken. We ran, terrified down the amber lit halls to the stairwell doors. The doors were obstructed by some object on the other side, and would not budge. Behind us, the dead began to flow in down the hallway. Out the fire exit, quickly went, my hand still clutching hers.
We regrouped at the front of the building and frantically began scaling the building. Using the intricately carved white stone as grip, we climbed to the third story. I could feel their hands clawing at my heels as I climbed. After she helped my through my bedroom window. We had lost the fellow in our haste, and now his body was being ripped to shreds in the frenzy below. I believe I cried.
The next day, the whole city gathered at the capitol, infected and all. Apparently, a few days after infection, your intelligence returns and you stop craving human flesh. We sat in an ampetheater packed row by row, and in front of us stood a well dressed man, who reminded me of Harvey Kietel. He casually explained that the infection was his doing, and that although the townsfolk would remain mutated for the rest of their lives, they would no longer be a threat to humans. He apologized for the inconvenience, but consoled us by telling us his horrible secret: that he was a mutant too! With a couple of slender movements, the well dressed man began to fold into himself, smaller and smaller, changing form, until finally, he was just a plastic case containing a power drill and some sockets.
Don't eat spicy foods before you go to bed.
Running. I can't remember how it started, only the feeling of terror as I held her hand and ran for my life. There were three of us, her and a fellow, and we ran through a vacant workshop. The school was closed and vacant, except for the infected and my small party. Many of the doors we tried were locked, so we continued to flee, our pursuers close behind us. We managed to find a side exit and made our way to the streets. Empty cars and bodies littered the street, and the living dead swarmed between them. My flat was just across the street, if we could only make it. We ducked down for a moment, waiting for an opening. We sprang! Across the street, over the bodies and wreckage and to the door of my flat. The three of us scampered inside. Drat! The lock is broken. We ran, terrified down the amber lit halls to the stairwell doors. The doors were obstructed by some object on the other side, and would not budge. Behind us, the dead began to flow in down the hallway. Out the fire exit, quickly went, my hand still clutching hers.
We regrouped at the front of the building and frantically began scaling the building. Using the intricately carved white stone as grip, we climbed to the third story. I could feel their hands clawing at my heels as I climbed. After she helped my through my bedroom window. We had lost the fellow in our haste, and now his body was being ripped to shreds in the frenzy below. I believe I cried.
The next day, the whole city gathered at the capitol, infected and all. Apparently, a few days after infection, your intelligence returns and you stop craving human flesh. We sat in an ampetheater packed row by row, and in front of us stood a well dressed man, who reminded me of Harvey Kietel. He casually explained that the infection was his doing, and that although the townsfolk would remain mutated for the rest of their lives, they would no longer be a threat to humans. He apologized for the inconvenience, but consoled us by telling us his horrible secret: that he was a mutant too! With a couple of slender movements, the well dressed man began to fold into himself, smaller and smaller, changing form, until finally, he was just a plastic case containing a power drill and some sockets.
Don't eat spicy foods before you go to bed.