I cannot tell you how awful my night has been, but considering the current state of the world...I suppose everyone is having a bad night. It wasn't long after midnight when one of them noticed some careless movement behind a window. Maybe it was just a curtain moving and was a stroke of bad luck, or maybe one of us did something stupid. It doesn't matter, because they attacked the house. In the aftermath, Jim was laying on the ground and bleeding from a dozen wounds with three undead kids wearing zombie t-shirts.
When I noticed that Jim was really hurt, and most definitely infected, time seemed to slur into a drunken crawl. My buddy was dead and here were three of these unliving monsters were wearing zombie shirts. It struck me at how odd it all was that right before the end of all things, people were going media-nuts for the very thing that would end them.
It had to have been a coincidence, but I understand how it could be possible considering how many people were wearing zombie tees when the dead actually started coming back hungry. Things happened too quickly for people to actually know why it was happening, but these three fools were obviously in for a shock when their favorite movie monsters started eating them alive.
All of this irony was surging through my head when I heard Jim croak something out. I thought he had already turned, but he was still good old Jim. I held back the crowbar in my hands, tears in my eyes as I watched my best buddy suffer. He chuckled and said, "Those guys were wearing zombie tee shirts. Did you see that? Weird." I couldn't help but laugh, despite my grief.
We had always promised not to let each other turn over into one of those dumb flesh-eaters if we could help it, and I fulfilled my promise to him as best I could. It was awful to see him go like that, but I guess we're all destined to die horribly these days. I'm alone now, and being alone just means that you're even closer to that destiny than before. I just hope that when they do come for me, they won't be wearing zombie tees.
When I noticed that Jim was really hurt, and most definitely infected, time seemed to slur into a drunken crawl. My buddy was dead and here were three of these unliving monsters were wearing zombie shirts. It struck me at how odd it all was that right before the end of all things, people were going media-nuts for the very thing that would end them.
It had to have been a coincidence, but I understand how it could be possible considering how many people were wearing zombie tees when the dead actually started coming back hungry. Things happened too quickly for people to actually know why it was happening, but these three fools were obviously in for a shock when their favorite movie monsters started eating them alive.
All of this irony was surging through my head when I heard Jim croak something out. I thought he had already turned, but he was still good old Jim. I held back the crowbar in my hands, tears in my eyes as I watched my best buddy suffer. He chuckled and said, "Those guys were wearing zombie tee shirts. Did you see that? Weird." I couldn't help but laugh, despite my grief.
We had always promised not to let each other turn over into one of those dumb flesh-eaters if we could help it, and I fulfilled my promise to him as best I could. It was awful to see him go like that, but I guess we're all destined to die horribly these days. I'm alone now, and being alone just means that you're even closer to that destiny than before. I just hope that when they do come for me, they won't be wearing zombie tees.
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