Zombie Apocalypse

The lovely Alison at Dragons and Fairy Dust has started a Zombie based creative writing thingummy. I am in now way talented when it comes to the literary arts, but I am a huge devotee of George Romero, so I feel obligated (and hugely peer pressured, damn you Twitter) into being the next link in the tale. So, with Halloween fast approaching, tuck yourselves in, read through the story and if you want to be next in line, grab my last paragraph and take it where you will…

The last paragraph in the story came from the fabulous Kay from Brink of Bedlam, possibly the finest blog on earth, and it read a little something like this:

We drove on through the night. I watched the rain bounce off the bonnet and remembered the people, ex-people…’zombies’ doing exactly the same thing only a few hours ago.
‘Jack…..’ I said, with forced cheerfulness.
‘What’s up?’
‘Put some music on will you?’

And from here it reads thus:

I tried to fight my growing sense of panic as Jack turned the tiny dial on the car radio back and to, right and left. The static cloud hissed and roared, but was never interrupted by the comforting sound of human speech – the safety line that I knew we were both silently praying to hear.

“I’ll whack on a CD,” Jack said nonchalantly. I coughed back a giggle when the first chords of ACDC’s Highway to Hell rang throughout the vehicle. I knew he had just grabbed the first thing that came to hand but it summed up our desperate plight. Despite the raucousness of the sound, the familiarity of the song was such that I felt myself zoning out and, beyond all reason, slipping away from the worries and desperation of my conscious mind.

Awareness was dim, but it had returned. 
My body was no longer my own.
I am not a creature of reason.
I am a reaction to instinct.
I desire only to feed.
There is no sustenance to my wasted flesh.
There was a time I was like you.
I breathed.
I thought.
I loved.
Now I feed.
I am anti-life.
I am accursed.
I am your punishment.
I reproduce by taking life and leave only desolation.
This morning, I shopped.
 I was a lady that lunched.
Now I am most loathed in creation.
Now I am against creation.
I was you,
I am you.
Circumstances have changed me.
You will all be mine.
There is no reason.
You will all be mine.

My head jerked away from the headrest with a start. I couldn’t believe that I had fallen asleep. Jack looked at me, concern on his face, but when he realised I had simply awoken he was soon calm again.

“You sleep well?” He was half teasing, but I could see he was glad that I’d gotten some rest.

Your turn? Come on, someone has to keep the story going!


Bestselling author and freelance food & drinks writer. Director of creative agency Thirst Media, helping small businesses reach their full potentially. Champion of pubs and breweries.

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