I hear groaning and the sound of flesh scraping across the ground. The stench of rotting flesh and death fills my nose. A stench I'm all too familiar with by now, having trudge through this decaying city of the dead. Dead, that's what I wish they were. Teetering on the fence of the living and the passed on, zombies. A corpse's hands grab the back my calf, it's grotesque mouth stretching open. I unsheathe a large machete from its leather bounds. The blade rings briefly before I swing down, severing the zombie's spinal cord. The body ceases its movement, but the hands are still gripping on to my calf. Rigor mortis, the muscles are too stiff to let go now.
"******** rot bag," I yell to no one in general. Every human is either dead, or undead, and all of the animals have gone into hiding. The fetid smell clogging my senses. It still appears to be moving, but that's just the maggots working to break down the body. It was disgusting, but I wasn't one of them. At least, not yet. I pull my leg away from the corpse. The zombie's flesh tears, and the bones snap as the hands fall from my leg.
I trudged through the streets, pushing aside dead bodies. Limbs torn from the bodies of their owners, and piles of organs ripped out of thrashed torsos. The small metal amulets that I wore around my neck jingled. I pulled it up and wiped the blood off his dog tags. They read two simple words "Top Gun." I'm not quite sure why I still wore this idiotic novelty, I've never even seen the movie. Perhaps I carry it as something to remind me of the past. An icon of what used to be. My home, family, life, joy, love. The ability to enjoy all of those without constant fear for your life by these unholy monstrosities.
There's no way to determine where these bastards came from. Every report I heard came in from numerous countries, and anyone who knew the virus' origin is probably dead by now. The spin the media put on the dead uprising was varied. In the United States, they said it was terrorists. Entire armies couldn't stop them. The human forces only slowed them, increasing their ranks. Waves of lives crushed, only to come back as undead monstrosities. The rate at which they increased was so fast that large cities like Los Angeles, and New York were gone in hours.
Los Angeles, that was a nightmare. The place I used to call my home, turned into a wasteland of chaos. I'm not entirely sure how I was able to get out of that hellhole alive. All I remember vividly is a bloody man crashing through my window, and biting a large chunk of meat out of her arm. Her cries for help "Cole! Cole! Help me Cole!" I ripped his jaw off, and cracked his skull open with my boot. That ******** cut into an artery, she bled to death in minutes. She came back as one of them. I thought she was still alive, then she lunged for my throat. I took one of the larger pieces of glass in my barehands, and drove it into her skull. I took whatever I could find around the house, and stole my neighbor's pick up truck. It broke down a few miles outside of San Diego. I've been walking for a week now.
The memories of that day still haunt me. I grip the machete tighter, and cleave off a limb from one of the rotting torsos lying on the ground. It slices through the bone easily, and bounces off the cement ground sending sparks flying. A small chunk of metal chips off the already blood rusted blade. Cursing under my breath, I wipe the blood off on my jeans, and slide it into the leather sheathe that is strapped to my outer thigh.
I take a few deep breathes, attempting to calm myself. I then realized that something was wrong. I couldn't have walked too far from San Diego, and all of the zombies in this area couldn't be dead. I've only killed a few dozen, and they had to have been dead for a few days. "Its too quiet out here." I reach for a colt python I picked up from a dead swat team member. The gun's fully loaded, and I've got two quick loaders on my belt. 18 shots. I might be able to hold off some sprinters if it's a small group.
Sprinters are pains in the a**. They're freshly undead, and have fresh muscles. They lack the soft decayed bones, dulled intelligence, and rigor mortis that make most zombies easy prey. They're fast, tireless, smart, and look a lot like normal people. Running from them is pointless. You'll tire long before they do, and chances are you'd run into a trap. They're like small Velociraptors. I don't even know how they can work in groups, and communicate, but I don't plan to find out.
The sun rises on the horizon, and I hear soft footsteps coming from in front of me. I grip the Python in my right and raise it high. My left hand ready to reach for my machete incase they get too close. Sweat runs down my forehead taking dirt and dried blood with it. A faint screech rings in my ears. I see a small shadow coming closer as the shriek gets louder.
"AAAAAH! Someone help me!" That shriek was coming from a little girl, being followed by 3 sprinters. I aim my gun at one of the zombies that is pursuing her. A shot rockets out of my massive magnum. One of the zombies gets struck in the head and goes tumbling forward to a bloody stop. I fire another at one of the other zombies. The missile of hot metal strikes it's throat, severing the head from the rest of the body. I ready myself to take out the last zombie. I pull the trigger, the hammer readying itself for the final lobby of flying metal. The girl trips, falling in front of the zombie.
"********!" I scream firing the bullet at the zombie, but it misses the head. Instead the zombie's left arm is shot off, briefly slowing it's pursuit. It jumps on the small girl, and takes a bit into her neck. I curse again, and fire 2 more shots. One hits the zombie's skull, dead center. The other strikes the girl's head, ending her pain and making sure she doesn't come back. I holster the python, and run to the pile of bodies. The Girl was, at most, 6 years old. Blond haired, wearing a new blue dress. Its ******** shame I couldn't save her. I pull off the dog tags, and lay them on her body, continuing my journey.
I hear a great number of groans behind me. I spin around, and see several zombies no less than a yard away running towards me. I make a futile attempt to reach for the python. They jump on me, and we go crashing to the ground. I pull it out the python and pull the trigger. One shot is fired into the stomach of one of them, sending him back. Acid pours out of it, and it falls to the ground. I pull the trigger again, hear a dull click. I'm out of ammo. The zombies start biting into my body. Pain flashes over my limbs as they tear into my flesh. I struggle to get them off of me. I hear a snap, and a tear. My arm is ripped from its socket, and the zombie continues to eat it.
The pain dulls. Every gruesome sound becomes fainter. I can no longer keep my eyes open. Every sense starts to die as I lay on the ground being torn apart by these blasphemous creations. I see a bright light. Is this it? Is this the gateway to heaven? No, the light disappears. Everything disappears. I hear nothing, feel nothing, see nothing.
Darkness, Silence, Nothing exists anymore.
Veras Gunn's Journal
A place were I want to rant, review movies and video games, and were i go crazy(other than my guild).