The Waking Dead
I ate an old woman today. She was slowly walking down the side walk with her walker not knowing what was going on. She didn't put up a fight she didn't even seem fazed by me gnawing her arm off sucking the blood from her arties until my zombie instinct took over and I stopped because she was already not appetizing anymore. She then, like all the others who are bit, rose up from the ground and started walking the "walk" to her next victim. Unfortunately for those that are curious she didn't not continue to use her walker, so I guess I helped her in that way. At least that's what I tell myself.
As each day goes on in the new world I walk around I begin to change into a full zombie. Just the other day (I think, time is gone when you're a zombie) I found myself beginning to "talk" like my fellow zombies. We don't in fact have a form of communication you (the living) just don't understand it. When you hear us moan and groan to each other we usually are asking each other about our days. So if you hear a long moan followed by three short moans it usually means that they are having a bad day. Now I say it usually means because like English there are different dialects and forms of the zombie "language" like how I met a man who was in a swim suit and talked in a way I couldn't understand him. Luckily though I didn't have to listen to his foreign accent for long, because not long after us meeting he took a bullet to the brain. I named him Josh, he looked like a Josh.
One of the main reasons we are able to prevail in a chase is because we don't ever rest. Even as I write this story, I always am walking. Always looking for someone to eat. Whereas the living eventually get tired which causes them to make a mistake and become vulnerable for us to eat. I can chase a human for days and not be tired, not once but you as the living will get tired and I can eat you. That's why if I can recommend anything, it is to be in a secure location loaded with weapons and enough ammo. Yea I can't even finish that, there is no hope for you. We can find you and we will find a way to eat you and turn you to the pale side.
Even Steve Jobs was now a zombie, showing that even money and power can't protect you. Steve and I were walking together, Steve had only been a zombie about three walking times (how I will now refer to my time because all real time is gone) from what I gathered, but spoke the best and clearest of any zombie I've spoken to. I was with Steve for his first eating time. His first living food item was stoner who decided to do so many drugs that he thought we were normal people walking towards him. He was wrong. Steve got to him first, due to his slim girly figure, and began eating away. shortly after I joined in to help and ate off his arm using it like one of those big fruity drinks you get at like Key West that are like three feet long. I was just sipping away at his blood until it wasn't fresh anymore and gave up on him. Steve being a newer zombie didn't get the hint till I was a few limps away from him, in which he began to stand up from our higher than high food source, and began following me. Steve, like me, was able to recall certain things about his living self. Mainly he knew he was rich and powerful, which made our conversations very dull as he spoke about himself and the success of his ibrands. I then began calling him the iZombie for the next few walking days. Steve didn't last forever. We walking down a street and a survivor starting running, but he wasn't running away, he ran towards Steve with a shiny metal object full force. He hit Steve right in the face (pow right in the kisser) knocking him down with the force. He then slammed the object repeatedly into his face screaming about how he hated Macs. Unfortunately for our young hopeful, he forgot about me and I began to eat this young man. I later noticed after being done with him that the object used to bash Steve's face into his new slush form, was in fact a Mac book.
Eventually as time moves on I often ponder (because can't really think anymore) about what life is like for the survivors. As each eating and walking time goes by, I see them losing hope and becoming changed like I am. I see them realizing their new way of life. Like one man and woman shooting each other because trying survive was becoming too much. I ponder why not become a zombie, its great exercise as long as your organs and stomach aren't hanging outside of your body like mine are. I ponder what the living must go through day in and day out with us walking around, waiting to see the next day. I ponder who's "life" is easier, the dead or the living? My days are simple. Walk around and eat the living. Yours is trying to survive and keep your sanity.