Daria in "Frown at the Dead"
By Vick Peña
Define "a normal day ", yeah, you, the one reading this recollection of events ...I am sure you will find it easy to define, a simple phrase with a simple context... a normal day is that exactly, a normal day ,the idea of everything happening in the order you're used to, it is like the typical day, the average.
How did I, Daria Morgendorffer, end up in this situation that is completely out of the ordinary eludes even me, the most ironic person n the world, the person whose middle name is "sarcasm".
I am standing on a platform devised to have girls dancing, clutching a baseball bat stained in blood, next to my friend Jane who is ready to use her fire axe against the ones surrounding us, the ones trying to reach for us.
I can see their eyes locked with mine, their brutal expressions, they guttural sounds of hunger; I can smell their rotten odor...did I mention they are dead?, well, they are but, at the same time, they are acting in the most undead fashion.
They are dead people trying to eat us.
Zombies.
And I am not talking about the ones in Plants vs Zombies, no, I am talking about real flesh eating reanimated corpses with no intention of giving up or desire to talk about it, no, oh ,no, they simply want to grab you and give you a big bite and you better try not to scream because that will call more zombies.
The banner above welcomes me to the "30th Zombie Fest" where, according to said banner "You are the feast"; I never thought that to be literal but what do you know? It is.
My regular jacket is stained with bodily fluids and pieces of brain of all those bastards I had to hit to save my own ass, not to mention the ones I had to beat to save Jane's ass.
My glasses are broken, repaired, barely, with duct tape, my boots are stained in red but, again, that seems to be the least of my problems.
I can hear Jane muttering something like "You want a piece of me?, eh, do you?" And I find myself too tired to reply the sarcastic nuisance she deserves...of course they want a piece of us!, nah, let me be more accurate, they want all pieces from us.
Familiar faces now deformed or incomplete emerge from the horde surrounding us, I cannot allow myself to simply end with their misery when they get close enough, they deserve their misery, oh, yeah, so I let them maybe aware how much I need to keep my strength.
To do what? Is my question, there is no way in hell we can get out from here...we are surrounded...lost amid an army of zombies.
What? You want to know how I ended up here?.
Guess I have plenty of time to spare...so brace yourself and remember you asked for it.
