Monthly Archive for December, 2008

I lost you.

I’m so tired. I haven’t slept since the attack. It’s funny how everything you love could be taken away from you in a matter of seconds. All I have left is my sister. We were never close, but everything’s different now. If I lose her I lose everything. Zyracuse never held any good neighborhoods; I would just kill to see the occasional crack dealer and the crazy homeless man, just someone instead of those monsters now.

I’ve always looked after Ruthie. Even before the attack. I know, I know, the older sister is supposed to look after the younger one but it was never like that with me and Ruthie. Mother always told us that we always had to stick together, I thought that was all a bunch of bull shit, but she was right.

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The Lessons That They Teach

I use to think “Christmas spirit” was a joke. To me it was nonsense, bull. Nothing more than an excuse for corporate fat cats to get that much fatter. I suppose that changed when the dead rose.

You should have seen it. Christmas morning came around and it was…Well, I suppose you’d call me a fool if I said it was a miracle. Though, there was definitely something. The people were happy. Happy! In the midst of a zombie apocalypse. That’s saying something! Corpse Corps squads ended up finding some sweets hidden in the city. The entire zone got to have a piece. Thank God for those preservatives. Nobody minded the cold, especially since it meant an increase in ghoul-sicles. One team actually brought back a tree reminiscent of an old Charlie Brown special. Kids decorated it with small pieces of the shiniest scrap metal they could find. The adults actually smiled for the first time in months. You can call it what you want but in times like this, a morale boost is a miracle. Everyone gathered together and laughed and shared like the ending of a corny Christmas movie. Nobody stole from their neighbors, regardless of how desperate they were. Nobody fought, nobody yelled. The Zone was pleasant for the first time in a long time. I guess you can’t really appreciate your fellow man until that’s all you have left.

So think what you want about “Christmas spirit”. Say it’s a joke. Say it’s ridiculous. Just don’t say it in the Zone.

Merry Christmas Zyracuse

Merry christmas everyone, and yes I am aware this was more of a forum post.

Door 13.

“So, why are goods transported via car referred to as a ‘shipment,’ while goods sent by ship are called ‘cargo’?” asked a penetrating voice in the room’s silence. All was black in the room of makeshift confinement – perhaps even pitch black, if such a difference between “black” and “pitch black” could be determined. There was a man – no, less of a man laying in the corner of the room, disturbed to all but himself. His eyes were dark umber in hue, as was his hair, which fell down over his neck. The male’s build was hardly a build at all, consisting of malnourished muscles and bones that made plywood look like vanadium. He was locked in the fetal position, laying on his left side with his back parallel to the wall; if he were stable enough to realize it, he might notice that he was shaking like an epileptic.

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Home for the Holidays – The animated adventure

Merry Christmas!

Home for the Holidays – featuring the Quinns

Come What May

Shit, shit, shit! How the fuck could I do that?!

I threw my rifle to the ground as I fell to my knees and burst into tears. My hands covered my face, so all you could see were the X’s on my hands. Flea stood behind me and kicked my ass. She told me “you better get the fuck up, you dumb bitch.” She was rather comical, in that kind of sense, even after what I had just done. She was my Hetero-life-partner, the Jay to my Silent Bob, the Cheech to my Chong, the Robin to my Batman. Forever “gerlfrands” we were. But we were never like that. I didn’t realize I had known her my entire life until the invasion.

We were walking Bear Street by the Carousel Mall. We were walking down Bear Street with Eight other people. We were walking down Bear Street with Jeremy, Barf, Alfalfa, Spud, Tiny, Dino, Lardass, Millie, Flea and myself, X. We were walking down Bear Street with ten rifles and 50 shells. We were walking down Bear Street with Low expectations.

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Who They Were

Tammy Mason, 47. She was a day-shift cashier at the Onondaga Boulevard Wegmans. She’d been married to her second husband Bob for nine years. She was employee of the month in April, 1997 and June, 2004. She enjoyed recreational bowling. She was worried that her daughter Janie, 17, was not going to go to college, even though she’d been saving up for years. She and Bob enjoyed watching 50′s movies and had been going to the Syracuse Nationals since its first year. Bob had been restoring a ’63 Impala for the past four years that he picked up for $4500 just before the Panic hit. They had looked forward to entering it one day.

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In the name of God

“You really think he is a bad man Father? The way I remember it, the Soldiers helped us during the panic.”

“Trust me, I’ve met this man before, He is as evil as sin itself. I could never forget his face.”

Two dark figures spoke quietly, the only light was that from an old light bulb hanging from a wire above them, it fluttered every so often, the only electricity was coming from an old gas generator. The two were in a basement, dark, dank, and as gloomy as the world outside.

“No, I’m absolutely sure of this one. He is the source of the dead rising, the outbreak, the deaths of millions of people. There is a reason he is here, God lead him to us, so we may purge the world of his evil.” Said the taller of the two figures before stepping towards the darkness of an adjacent wall.

The tall gray haired priest walked more into the light, his left eye had been badly damaged and was no longer able to see more than shadows, the eyelids were split, a long scar traveled from his brow to his cheek. The wound had long healed, leaving nothing but an unsightly reminder of the damage done. Next to him was a young blond girl, aside from the dirt and ragged clothes she could have been mistaken for an angel.

“Why would god want us to kill him? hasn’t enough blood been shed?” The girls voice was that of a siren, a haunting beauty.The man turned and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I know how you feel child, you just need to trust me on this… He is a bad man, and if we let him go, he will hunt us down and kill everyone here.” Said the priest, trying to assure her that they were not about to end the life of an innocent.

“You don’t have to let me go Marcus.” came a voice from the darkness.

Both the priest and the girl looked to where the voice came from, the lights fluttered brighter for a second. Against the wall was a man, his arms were pinned  to  the far cement wall. His shirt had been removed, and all across his sculpted and defined body were bruises and cuts clogged with dirt. He was wearing Multicam pants and Military boots. The man spat blood out onto the dirt floor before smiling and almost cheerfully exclaiming.

“I’m going to kill you regardless.” Continue reading ‘In the name of God’

Zombie Horrorland

Zombies moan, are you listening?
In the streets, blood is glistening.
A horrible sight, we’re frightened tonight.
Walkin’ in a zombie horrorland.

They came, by the hundred,
here to stay, are the undead.
They stumble along, moaning their song.
Walkin’ in a zombie horrorland.

In the airport we can build our Blue Zone,
and pretend a fence will keep them out.

We’ll say “Will that stop them?”
You’ll say “No, man,
But there ain’t no safer place in town.”

Later on, we’ll conspire,
As we sleep by the fire,
To face unafraid,
creatures that invade.
Walkin’ in a zombie horrorland.

On the highway there’s some frozen zombies,
We’ll pretend that they don’t make us frown.
We’ll have lots of fun with frozen zombies,
Until the Corpse Corps knock them down.

When it’s cold, ain’t it thrilling,
all the zombie’s we’ll be killing.
We’ll send them away, the ghouls today,
Walkin’ in a zombie horrorland.