12:00AM
Jamie Anderson sat up straight in bed. She was soaked in sweat, which wasn't uncommon considering she slept under huge blankets while still completely dressed in the clothes she had worn the day before. She was breathing shallowly, and looking around her pitch black bedroom. It wasn't all that large. She didn't need a large room, or large house for that matter, because she lived alone. Of course she had an occasional guy over for a one-night stand, or a few nights, but she lived alone.
She wondered why she was awake. Why was she awake?
Jamie brushed her soaking wet, brown bangs out of her eyes and up into the matted mass of her hair. She then dried her now wet hand on her green sweater, which didn't help considering her sweater was soaked as well.
Yes, she could've slept in the nude, or in pajamas, but she thought sweating was a healthy bodily process that was necessary for a true clean bill of health. That entire thought had been planted inside her mind by her mother, who had worked herself out to death. She had died from a heart attack at fifty three while running track for five hours. That had been two years ago.
Why was she awake?
Jamie was now thirty two years old, and hoping to settle down with someone soon.
Why was she awake?
She knew that the plan of marriage was within her grasp because of her considering bosom, huge ass, captivating green eyes, and soft skin. Everyone talked to her. She just mostly shrugged them off for some reason that was beyond her.
Why was she awake?
Was she thirsty? No.
Did she need to piss? No.
Was she hungry? No.
Why was she awake?
Curiosity overwhelmed her. She stood up and crossed the room to her bedroom door, which was wood. She grasped the cool handle, turned it, and pushed the creaking door open slowly. The open door exposed a small room that was furnished quite exquisitely. That room had two doors: one to the kitchen, one to the bathroom.
There was a window in that room that wasn't covered by the blinds that covered her bedroom's window. That window let in orange and yellow light that flickered strangely.
She crossed that room to the window and looked outside.
The house beside her house was ablaze. It was burning rapidly, and there was no one around it trying to put it out.
Jamie looked around the scene that her window displayed some more, and realized that there was a very reasonable explanation for no one giving a shit about that specific house: the other houses were on fire as well.
There were two fire trucks, which were working on the two worst blazes. They were losing the fight. The fire was spreading onto the lawns, and cars were catching fire as well. One blew up suddenly, killing two people who were running down the street.
There were many people running around the street. What were they running from? Where were they running to?
Jamie was resolved to stay inside. It would be much safer inside.
She kept that train of thought for a little bit at least. Then she realized that the bathroom was blazing, and the fire was spreading across the living room towards her. It was running on the walls and ceilings, vigorously eating up everything in its path. It was like the flames wanted to engulf her, wanted to consume her. It would eat anything that you fed it, and it would never be full. Not ever. Fire was a demon in its purest form. Nearly invincible, and very dangerous.
Jamie turned to the window and started trying to pull it up. No good. She had glued it down when she had first got into the house because insects had been crawling in through the cracks around the windows. Figures. Fucking figures.
Jamie spun around and charged towards the kitchen door. The kitchen led to the entrance hall, and the entrance hall led outside.
She pulled on the door the first time, then slapped her forehead for being so stupid. You had to push the door open.
She slammed the door behind her and headed to the entrance hall. She ran from the entrance hall to outside.
Jamie burst out into the warm night air. She took a deep breath, hoping for that nice night air. She got the smell of burning wood, ash, smoke, and death instead.
Death.
That last one was the worst.
Jamie surveyed the street not thirty feet from where she stood. People were running in every direction. Why were they running?
Then she saw it. She saw the man with a stump for an arm bring down a child and start eating her. She saw the woman getting shot over and over again and not going down. She saw the cops hitting some people while swerving to avoid others. The cops succeeded sometimes in avoiding the others, sometimes they didn't.
Jamie screamed, just like everyone else was. She screamed.
That's when she saw the fat man with his entrails hanging out come barreling across the street towards her, roaring like there was no tomorrow. His hands were thrown out to grab her, and he ran amazingly fast for such a fat fuck!
She turned and ran as fast as she could across her yard. Before she knew it she was two houses down, and the fat fuck had deserted her and gone after a woman with a broken leg. Jamie ignored her screams. The woman she had just unwittingly killed had been Ellen Poll, Jamie's neighbor and friend.
Jamie kept running until she found someone getting dragged out of their car by a couple of these strange people. She leapt into the driver's seat, feeling a moment's guilt about capitalizing off of this man's death, and found the car started. She closed the door and drove off.
The other streets were bad, and sometimes worse. There were crowds of people everywhere. She wondered why those people were eating the other people. What was going on goddamnit!?
Jamie wasn't used to this automatic car. She had a manual car, too bad she hadn't thought to grab her keys before running out of the house. Too bad she hadn't gone to her car.
Fucking A!
She looked at the clock in the car.
It was twelve thirty in the morning.
The next time she looked it was twelve fifty.
By that time she had gotten out of town.
The windshield was smashed to shit because of some rioters, and some of those weird cannibalistic people. The back windows were smashed in, blood was smeared on the hood of the car from when she had hit one of those cannibalistic people, were they people? And her hair was a tangled mess from when someone had crashed into the back and grabbed at her. She was crying uncontrollably and did not even realize it.
Out of town was no better than in the town. It was probably even worse.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Hey, MorbidMan here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm going to have another twenty-three, considering there's still twenty-three hours left of that day that Jamie's in. Please review!
"When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth."-Peter "Dawn of the Dead" (the original)
Jamie Anderson sat up straight in bed. She was soaked in sweat, which wasn't uncommon considering she slept under huge blankets while still completely dressed in the clothes she had worn the day before. She was breathing shallowly, and looking around her pitch black bedroom. It wasn't all that large. She didn't need a large room, or large house for that matter, because she lived alone. Of course she had an occasional guy over for a one-night stand, or a few nights, but she lived alone.
She wondered why she was awake. Why was she awake?
Jamie brushed her soaking wet, brown bangs out of her eyes and up into the matted mass of her hair. She then dried her now wet hand on her green sweater, which didn't help considering her sweater was soaked as well.
Yes, she could've slept in the nude, or in pajamas, but she thought sweating was a healthy bodily process that was necessary for a true clean bill of health. That entire thought had been planted inside her mind by her mother, who had worked herself out to death. She had died from a heart attack at fifty three while running track for five hours. That had been two years ago.
Why was she awake?
Jamie was now thirty two years old, and hoping to settle down with someone soon.
Why was she awake?
She knew that the plan of marriage was within her grasp because of her considering bosom, huge ass, captivating green eyes, and soft skin. Everyone talked to her. She just mostly shrugged them off for some reason that was beyond her.
Why was she awake?
Was she thirsty? No.
Did she need to piss? No.
Was she hungry? No.
Why was she awake?
Curiosity overwhelmed her. She stood up and crossed the room to her bedroom door, which was wood. She grasped the cool handle, turned it, and pushed the creaking door open slowly. The open door exposed a small room that was furnished quite exquisitely. That room had two doors: one to the kitchen, one to the bathroom.
There was a window in that room that wasn't covered by the blinds that covered her bedroom's window. That window let in orange and yellow light that flickered strangely.
She crossed that room to the window and looked outside.
The house beside her house was ablaze. It was burning rapidly, and there was no one around it trying to put it out.
Jamie looked around the scene that her window displayed some more, and realized that there was a very reasonable explanation for no one giving a shit about that specific house: the other houses were on fire as well.
There were two fire trucks, which were working on the two worst blazes. They were losing the fight. The fire was spreading onto the lawns, and cars were catching fire as well. One blew up suddenly, killing two people who were running down the street.
There were many people running around the street. What were they running from? Where were they running to?
Jamie was resolved to stay inside. It would be much safer inside.
She kept that train of thought for a little bit at least. Then she realized that the bathroom was blazing, and the fire was spreading across the living room towards her. It was running on the walls and ceilings, vigorously eating up everything in its path. It was like the flames wanted to engulf her, wanted to consume her. It would eat anything that you fed it, and it would never be full. Not ever. Fire was a demon in its purest form. Nearly invincible, and very dangerous.
Jamie turned to the window and started trying to pull it up. No good. She had glued it down when she had first got into the house because insects had been crawling in through the cracks around the windows. Figures. Fucking figures.
Jamie spun around and charged towards the kitchen door. The kitchen led to the entrance hall, and the entrance hall led outside.
She pulled on the door the first time, then slapped her forehead for being so stupid. You had to push the door open.
She slammed the door behind her and headed to the entrance hall. She ran from the entrance hall to outside.
Jamie burst out into the warm night air. She took a deep breath, hoping for that nice night air. She got the smell of burning wood, ash, smoke, and death instead.
Death.
That last one was the worst.
Jamie surveyed the street not thirty feet from where she stood. People were running in every direction. Why were they running?
Then she saw it. She saw the man with a stump for an arm bring down a child and start eating her. She saw the woman getting shot over and over again and not going down. She saw the cops hitting some people while swerving to avoid others. The cops succeeded sometimes in avoiding the others, sometimes they didn't.
Jamie screamed, just like everyone else was. She screamed.
That's when she saw the fat man with his entrails hanging out come barreling across the street towards her, roaring like there was no tomorrow. His hands were thrown out to grab her, and he ran amazingly fast for such a fat fuck!
She turned and ran as fast as she could across her yard. Before she knew it she was two houses down, and the fat fuck had deserted her and gone after a woman with a broken leg. Jamie ignored her screams. The woman she had just unwittingly killed had been Ellen Poll, Jamie's neighbor and friend.
Jamie kept running until she found someone getting dragged out of their car by a couple of these strange people. She leapt into the driver's seat, feeling a moment's guilt about capitalizing off of this man's death, and found the car started. She closed the door and drove off.
The other streets were bad, and sometimes worse. There were crowds of people everywhere. She wondered why those people were eating the other people. What was going on goddamnit!?
Jamie wasn't used to this automatic car. She had a manual car, too bad she hadn't thought to grab her keys before running out of the house. Too bad she hadn't gone to her car.
Fucking A!
She looked at the clock in the car.
It was twelve thirty in the morning.
The next time she looked it was twelve fifty.
By that time she had gotten out of town.
The windshield was smashed to shit because of some rioters, and some of those weird cannibalistic people. The back windows were smashed in, blood was smeared on the hood of the car from when she had hit one of those cannibalistic people, were they people? And her hair was a tangled mess from when someone had crashed into the back and grabbed at her. She was crying uncontrollably and did not even realize it.
Out of town was no better than in the town. It was probably even worse.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Hey, MorbidMan here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm going to have another twenty-three, considering there's still twenty-three hours left of that day that Jamie's in. Please review!
"When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth."-Peter "Dawn of the Dead" (the original)