We all appear like miniature soldiers marching into unknown boundaries
of icy pavement and bizarre camp sights.
Perambulating through a vortex of journey and confusion, in the world of the living dead.
Such calamity we shall witness, in a world of violence.
The world was peaceful at one point. Parks were full of innocent children swinging on swing-sets, parents were watching in admiration, and grandparents enjoyed their last few years left on planet Earth. It all seemed like a precious moment of time, darkness only existed in the media's lies and corporate greed.
When the dead first arose in a small town twenty miles from Atlanta, no one really knew what was going on. Was it some sort of infectious flu? Was it sexually transmitted? People boarded their homes and many whom never got to start families stopped trying. Many people would stop buying lesser needed necessities. The internet went dark and cell phones became useless, as radio was only left to transmit. End transmission.
His hands, the dripping blood of such savagery. Quit touching me. Stop. STOP!
His hands groped my manhood, what was he trying to do. This is so not me, STOP!
He's stroking it. Oh my... it actually feels nice. Pleasurable.
Rick's eyes opened with a slight feeling of discomfort. Where was the man? Was I trapped in a homosexual reverie? Weird.
The discomfort condensed as Rick rose from laying down. It was just a dream.
He was surrounded by four walls of a mobile home, his son Carl was curled up next to a framed photo of his mother. Cockroaches feasted on rotten cereal left spilled from weeks past, as Rick got up to wake his son. The past few rainy days brought water inside the mobile home and many insects. This was just a temporary living spot to keep themselves from the other dangers outside.
Which each day passing by, and the disintegration of the mobile home becoming clear they knew they'd have to begin adventuring to somewhere safer. Through many obfuscating labyrinths that entered and exited with an endless spiral, they ended up in Alpharetta, GA. The stench of the dead lingered from all directions.
The town had many buildings which had their products confiscated by other survivors or townspeople. A chiseling thought embedded itself into Rick's mind that there could possibly be a few survivors still hanging around town, but there was really no possible way he thought. Shards of glass was all that was left, the town became a center of futility. Rick's sapphire eyes glistened under the sun as it began it's descend over the horizon. They knew their investigation of such a desolate location needed to be hurried along.
Building after building showed nothing but emptiness, until they reached a point of giving up when they witnessed a small hut. The hut was only lit but torches that hung from its exterior. Like a lost torch song, the hut appeared like a bitter melancholy. Text was scripted into a sign near the entrance that read "The dead has arose to tear me apart, but my ancient rituals shall be imbrued with the blood that seeps from their eyes."
Was this hut ran by some sort of witch? Witchcraft? Rick glanced over to his son who seemed lost in thought.
"Carl, I think it's some sort of ritual hut. Who knows if this place is still really up and running.. we've gotta check it out. Hey you might like some of the stuff inside!" Rick said trying to appease the awkward find. Rick went inside as his son, still speechless, followed closely behind.
The hut was the opposite of Rick's assumption, it was actually a treasure room full of medallions and other artifacts from historic discoveries. It had a small bookcase full of old books from the 18th century up until the 19th century, but the medallions dated back close to the end of the 16th century. The hut didn't provide much to them, but seemed like a unique spot so they rested on the an abandoned sixties flower sofa to pass some time as the growls of walkers was heard in the distance.
As night hit its point of death, a sound of an elderly woman echoed from behind the bookcase. An illuminating shriek escaped her as she said the following, charming
"For death is an overused word in this newly ransacked world. I want to bring happiness to you and your child. Your child looks like my son. He was only twelve when he was mistaken for a witch and hung above a boiling pot to be feasted to our old wanderers. Oh how I miss him. My son's ethereal ghost still haunts me, knowing it's just a hallucination I weep. Those long cold nights by the campfire singing his favorite lullabies as the moon pierced its energy through my soul. His ghost ascending to comfort me, but escaping as the wolves came near. I don't ever expect empathy for myself, I'm much too strong for such sympathy.
But than my weakness always comes back to shine on me...
Those many nights of famine, such calamity would strike. Those nights I would stare into the lake and see the reapers giggling as they stirred my hopeless son. His screams... HIS SCREAMS.
I'm sorry Rick for dragging you on this. Oh your shocked I know your name? Well I am a certified clairvoyant, I know you very well. You have a very dark future ahead of you. Your son will have to be without you, as your death is very near.. dear."
The elderly lady paused as Rick gazed into her eyes trying to understand this bizarre lady. Rick tapped Carl's shoulder as a sign that they should probably go. As they left the hut the last few lines would stay with Rick forever...
"Rick darling, really must you leave me? I'm hungry. I'm not as strong as I mentioned before. I haven't ate in weeks. Oh really shouldn't admit that, okay to be truthful... I'm dead. I'm here to warn you. Like your elevating envelope of light, your omen. Oracle. Your prodigy is malicious. Your heart is warm, but your soul grows colder. YOUR SOUL GROWS COLDER! RICK! BELIVE IN YOURSELF! CARL NEEDS YOU! BELIEVE! BELIEVE! BELIEVE..." as her voice echoed the town square Rick embraced Carl taking some of the soothsayer's nonsense into account.