Freedom To Make What You Want To Make!

July 9, 2009

Rusted Spike

“You know the greatest thing about this whole damn mess?” Asked the massive bearded man named Horace, as he looked around the door and out into the dark expanse beyond.

His single companion looked up, puzzled “What mess?” he asked.

“This! The dead rising, civilization as we know it, gone! Consumer goods, energy, public transportation, all that stuff!” Said Horace.

Again his companion looked puzzled “I wasn’t aware there was an upside to all of that”

“Oh there is” the man pulled a vicious metal spike with a wad of paper at one end from the small bag he was carrying “It’s called Freedom. And not the supposed ‘freedom’ we had before all this went down, but true freedom, to go where we want to go, do what we want to do, and make what we want to make”

The other man stood up, lit a match and set the wad of paper on fire “I guess you have a point, although that sounded like something you’ve been dying to say all day”

Horace smiled, swung the flaming spike through the open door, and rammed it home, deep into a nearby zombies shoulder. As the creature turned toward him, Horace lashed out, kicking the creature away from him and slamming the door shut with a loud bang. Crouching low he pushed his weight against the door, and with a giant thud, the zombie threw its weight against the door, hitting it in mad frenzy to tear the door down and reach the occupants inside. With the sound of rapid shuffles the pummeling began to get stronger and louder as more and more zombies crowded around the door trying to get in. Pushing with all his might Horace braced himself against the door and smiled as the crackle of burning zombie drifted over the sound of zombie flesh hitting the old wooden door.

Suddenly with a massive bang, the makeshift spike-grenade finally detonated. The top half of the door shattered inwards as smoke, blood and bone billowed and sprayed into the room. Checking he was ok Horace stood up and looked out through the shattered door at the cluster of charred and torn bodies on the other side.

“Like I said lad, Freedom, you can practically smell it there’s so much around here!”


Our Love Eternal

May 22, 2009

Shadow Couple

To Whom It May Concern:

Did you know that harboring a zombie is just like raising a child?

To begin with all your friends think you’re mad. “Why throw away your life looking after something that needs constant attention?” they might ask.

But just like raising a child, when the urge comes to have one, it’s something you just have to do.

For me it came late last week. It was a beautiful morning and I awoke to clear skies and bird song. I got up, dressed, ate breakfast and went to sit out on the front porch to await my husband’s return. I did not have to wait long, as I spotted his crumpled body on the sidewalk as soon as I walked .

His skin was pale, blood was everywhere and he was barely alive, but he managed to whisper that he had been attacked by some other survivors out for his supplies. They had taken everything he carried, beat him and then shot him in the gut.

Fortunately for him I can keep a level head in stressful situations, and so I quickly moved him indoors, gave him some water and bandaged his wounds.

He was asleep when I left and it took me almost the entire day to find one, I had to check a lot of old disused houses, dark alleys and other unsightly places. In the end I found it crawling through a ditch on the side of the road.

When I returned home, my husband was awake, struggling against the restraints, more so when I produced the head. I placed it next to his thigh and stuffed an old T-shirt into his mouth to stop him screaming.

I don’t really know why he screamed. Sure it hurts, but now that I appear to have lost some blood the pain is starting to go away. I should probably have had it bite my arm as it’s rather hard to walk now, but love is painful, I know this. He doesn’t scream any more, he just shuffles around the room and occasionally bangs against one of the boarded up windows, but in a few moments I will go in there with him, so that he will not be lost and alone, so that we can be together for eternity.

You see, unlike a child, having a zombie means you cannot touch them whenever you like. You cannot pull them close and hug them. You cannot wake up next to them each morning and look deep into each other’s eyes. You have to keep them at arm’s reach.

But just as a child changes into an adult we can change too.

It is getting hard to write and I am getting cold, so I go to join him now, to be with my love forever more.

Do not disturb us.