Zombie Story Reborn
March 18th, 2007
Nearly a year has passed since my last journal entry. The zombie herds have consumed the vast majority of the population, converting them like Mormons, against thier will. Our whole group has survived, save Sarrah and Ellen. Thier loss was tragic, but our minds conquered our hearts and our will to survive outweighed our love for ( Read more... )
Nearly a year has passed since my last journal entry. The zombie herds have consumed the vast majority of the population, converting them like Mormons, against thier will. Our whole group has survived, save Sarrah and Ellen. Thier loss was tragic, but our minds conquered our hearts and our will to survive outweighed our love for ( Read more... )
A year ago, light shining through the blinds and waking me up would have meant nothing more to me than the start of another meaningless day. How I miss those times.
This past night was actually a decent one. I slept for at least 4 hours in total, and that is the longest amount of rest I have been granted as far as I could recall. Of course, sleep never lasts for more than 15 minutes at a time anymore. That damn R.E.M. runs its course, and then I awaken from the nightmares that haunt my thoughts. My latest nightmare is rather interesting.
I dream that I'm back at home, supposedly back in the good old days before the invasion, before the days of the Undead. I am playing catch with my long-lost dog, Louis, in the back yard. A voice calls my name from the garage which sounds like my mother. Louis takes a look in that direction, then looks back at me. A moment before my dog had life in his eyes, but now they are hollow. I run over to my dog and hold it. There is no warmth, and this startles me. I let go of the ice cold body. Louis falls over as stiff as a board, and I see the most hideous wound on the underbelly. It is blackened and dark red, and maggots jovially crawl into and out of the flesh, enjoying their festering feast. I stumble backwards and trip over a chair. As I lay on the ground, I hear my mother's voice again.
"Arash, please come here, I need help in the attic."
Mindlessly, I obey the request. I make my way to the garage. Inside, I walk to the ladder leading up to the attic and look up. It is a black void, and a musty scent blows down on me. I look back and see Louis sitting calmly and patiently by my feet. "Go on, go up" the dog seems to say as it looks up at me with those hollow eyes. Slowly, I make my way up the ladder. I peek my head into the attic when I am able to. There is pure darkness coupled with dead silence. However, before I can do anything else, someone, or something, pulls me vehemently into the darkness. I scratch and kick, but it is to no avail as it seems that I'm not really even touching anything. The last thing I remember before I wake up is the most disturbing wail one could imagine. It is hollow, like the sound of a distant wind in the woods, but soon it gains volume and morphs into a shreek that would make eardrums explode. And then, there is silence again.
The sleeping pills aren't worth shit anymore. Dreams like this are the price I have to pay to close my weary eyes. The worst part about it is that sometimes, the nightmares are more pleasant than what I have to wake up to.
The stench of death and rot is rather weak today, thanks to the cooler temperature and the lack of the winds that carry that forsaken scent across the landscape.
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