"Shit!' I exclaimed watching the windshield cracks spider out when the hood
fly's up and hits it. Swerving left and right, finally fish tailing; like
they do in the ways movies tell us they do, I hear the small sound waves
that signifies that the side of the car nailed something. So maybe running
over these things is a bad idea. The force of the bottom of the tires
against the curb rolls the car over the curb. I'm side-ways just enough
time to figure out what's about to unfold and tense my muscles. -I've been
to hell I spell it DMV; I need relief I spell it THC. Lyrics repeat over
and over in my head thinking of this piece of shit vehicle tip over. It's
done. I smash out the window with my elbow and crawl out. A small horde of
fifteen zombies starts to gather around the car I'm sitting on top of the
vehicle. Scream. Blood stained metal walls provide a background for this
towering monstrosity in my line of sight. Something sharp and metal is
gouged into my skull. Red haze flows over my vision blinding me. Blink. I'm
standing up now. The amount of undead gathered has doubled. Looking around,
I'm fucked.
Then there's automatic weapon fire from my left and several rotten heads explode. When the sound entered my head it triggered a reaction in me that made me turn quickly, slipping on the moister, I fall backwards off the car. Nothing injured but pride and that was in short supply any way. "Ahh.fuck." I managed to sputter. A few more rounds are fired off in my general direction. -Jesus they're dead for Christ's sake. This is what I'm thinking both times rounds are fired off before I hear, "Get out from behind the vehicle!" Apparently we're all not on the same side. Peeking around the bumper, two men in solid black gear holding MP5's, are approaching. They obviously know I'm here. "Last time I'm gonna say it; come out from behind the vehicle dickhead!" I walking in a crouch towards the right side, I raise my hands, "Don't shoot." This is one of those situations where you can get an award for trying to keep your cool. "Who are you?" one of them almost shouts. "On your nine!" The nearest one to the dark green monstrosity actually reacted quick enough to fire off a three round burst before it took his shooting arm off. The other commando started capping off rounds like mad at the thing. It took me about half a second to react.
Some people say that running away is an act of cowardice. Kept me alive longer. It'd been almost forty-five minutes since those guys were torn from the mortal coil and I finally remembered where I'd seen them. One the visions had people that where the exact same. There's no way Umbrella could have some kind of task force. That sounds like something a guy with forty copies of 'The Catcher in the Rye' would say. Well fucked if I hadn't seen it. -What the hell is goin' on? Lighting another cigarette reminded me that I needed another car for some reason. "I see a red door and I want it painted black." I mutter starting to walk.
Walking in open spaces now has a different feeling, but I wasn't about to cut through the woods either. The trees were thick around the Radio Shack. I get to the double glass doors. I don't know why I figured the place would be unlocked. Pointing the gun at the glass, I fire the gun but I hear a collection of automatic fire and screams of pain. The west end of the building lights up on my peripheral vision. -Fuck. Getting up to the corner, there are two men and two of the things I saw tear apart the soldiers. One goes down but so does one of the people. The other guy starts unloading on the thing. It quickly turns slicing off one of the man's arms. I approached it running and blasted a lead round into the back of its head. It dropped right beside the guy. If he'd had his arm the thing would've landed on it. "Fuck!" the man shoted.
"Where the hell did you come from?" The guy kind of resembled the drummer from Def Leopard now. "Front of the building. I heard you and your buddy shooting." "I need a favor." "Sure, what?" "Shoot me in the face," he says through blood stained teeth. -This guy is fucked in the head. "What?" "Shoot me in the face." "You may not have an arm but there are prosthetics." "You're not getting it you fuckin peen-ass," he moans. "I have the disease." -"A new strain of the flu is running rampant through out the city." "Well goddamn." the thought leaked its way through my brain. Drawing the hammer back, gun aimed; I'd never killed a person. The action that a gun makes is just a concentrated explosion. The bullet is the shrapnel. The sound of the trigger being pulled echoes. Picking around I find one working Mp5 and one loaded clip. There were seven left in the gun. -That Umbrella team was pretty ill prepared I guess.
Looking around in a place as big as this is hard at night. I find the package marked 'Ignition Wire.' I've had to refill my lighter three times by now. SLAM! The entire building shakes a little. There's another loud noise and there are impressions in the cement. Staring at it, a faded gray outline my vision cannot make out what it is. It's standing right in front of a gas truck. One of those huge tanks on wheels. The gray figure starts to stretch its limbs and lets away the most god awful scream I'd ever heard. -Shit! I duck behind one of the shelves. That's when the scream stops and the loud rumble takes over your hearing. Not soundly judging the distance away from the explosion cost me a trip into the shelf behind me. Hoisting myself up on both legs is hard work at this point. The ringing in my ears throws off my equilibrium. -Inner ear damage. Since I can't even stand because of the ringing the thought of inner ear damage is sounding off like an alarm. Then I definitely can't do anything. After forty-five minutes and a few cigarettes, it finally subsides and I can walk.
Looking around, everything is destroyed. A sudden splitting headache tells me that I have a large gash over my eyebrow. Walking to the entrance, I see something hanging in the doorway. Only thing is I don't notice it until I bump into it and it scares the be-jesus out of me. Looking up at its hanging body, it looks as if it growing. The once invisible monstrosity is regaining the realm of the visual. A great portion of its head was blown off in the explosion. Its blood and other bodily fluids are dripping onto the sidewalk. It's hanging from the Radio Shack sign. The sound of metal twisting and breaking pierces my eardrum. I start running backwards and trip over a scorched piece of metal. This is the only thing that kept my head from being lopped off from the metal beam that was flung through the air. -Holy fuckin shit.. This just keeps getting better and better.
Shattering glass. -Alarms are fuckin annoying. Getting down to hotwire the car I notice a glimmer from my left peripheral. It's the keys to the car. Bending down, I grab one of the keys. Someone's severed right hand is still on the key. The end of the hand is dirty and torn. I pull at the wrist but it isn't about to come off the key. -I've got to get the hell out of Dodge. Laying the hand on the ground I stomp on the thumb as hard as I can. Hearing the thumb bone snap tells me I've got another car. The car makes me remember all this shitty air. The car takes a few cranks but it starts. As soon as it comes down the gas needle dropped to E. "Goddamn." I mutter to myself. I doubt there is even a gas station around here. It also probably wouldn't do any good to stand in the same place for too long thinking about it either. -Fuck it. The gates are tainted, but it's the only hope. Hope sucks.
I wonder how so much bad shit can happen in one day. I started to feel like I'd rather have more visions. They kept me conditioned in a sense. I hadn't had any in a few hours. -You're dying. More dumb shit to fill my skull with when I needed to concentrate. Looking out of the split between the sliding door and the wall of the trash bin I was in, I can still see some of the undead out and about. They're starting to chew on the corpses outside. Chink of the lighter, and the top of the bottle lights up. I toss the bottle overhead; it breaks on one of their heads and the fire spreads like piss through water. It's the greatest feeling in the world when something works better than planned. -Shit! Somebody shouts. Immediately noticing I start looking around. I see the reflection of the fire on someone's glasses. They fade out of the corner of the window. I hop out of the god- awful shit bin. One of the zombies is still stumbling around on fire. There are two on the ground already burnt to powder. The cooked flesh smell fills the air. Then, there is a sizzling sound. -It's starting to rain. I run back around the building to the car. The pump conveniently clicks and stops pumping right when I get there. -Like a fuckin video game. I have one foot in the door of the car when I feel enormous sudden pressure to my skull. I almost threw-up but I passed out before I could.
There's a room under me. It looks like a comfortable room. Numbers and letters are crossing over the walls, like somebody entering numbers on a calculator extremely fast. A lamp in the center of the room lights the room. Around the lamp is a couch and a chair. The Kool-Aid man is sitting on the couch and what could be classically described as God, or just some guy with a long beard and flowing robes, is sitting in the chair. The lamp has a thick smoke coming off the top of it. "Sit down," the bearded guy says and I'm on another couch, -Well goddamn, I finally lost it. "No you haven't," the bearded man says. "I'd thank you to stay out of my head." I retort. "Have you accepted God into your heart, because if you haven't." "Shut the fuck up." The Kool-Aid man interrupts. "Yeah, fuck it," God says, "What the hell is this?" I ask. "Think about it, you're sitting in a room with God and the Kool-Aid man," God says. "You're in a goddamn dream." Open. My eyes blink and a harsh pain starts in my eyes and cuts through the rest of my head. I roll to my left immediately smashing my head into a steel bar. "Ahh, fuckin' a." I mutter grabbing my head. This light over my head has to be a surgical light; it's the purest white light I've ever seen. I get off the bed and stand up. My eyes clear and I hear the cha-chink of the bolt on a door. I step over behind the door just as it opens. A lanky man wearing a lab coat strolls in looking at a clipboard. "Well, mister." This is when I step to him and lock my arm around his neck just tight enough to where he can still breathe. "Make another noise and you'll be one of those things wondering around outside this place." I whisper in his ear. I put my hand in his lab coat pockets. I remove a plastic card, an empty syringe, and thirty-five cents. "Where the fuck am I?" I ask sounding panicked. He looks at the floor, to the right and then at me. "You're in an Umbrella lab, a few hundred feet under ground." He says this as if it the most natural thing in the world. "You gotta be fuckin shittin' me." "No."
Then there's automatic weapon fire from my left and several rotten heads explode. When the sound entered my head it triggered a reaction in me that made me turn quickly, slipping on the moister, I fall backwards off the car. Nothing injured but pride and that was in short supply any way. "Ahh.fuck." I managed to sputter. A few more rounds are fired off in my general direction. -Jesus they're dead for Christ's sake. This is what I'm thinking both times rounds are fired off before I hear, "Get out from behind the vehicle!" Apparently we're all not on the same side. Peeking around the bumper, two men in solid black gear holding MP5's, are approaching. They obviously know I'm here. "Last time I'm gonna say it; come out from behind the vehicle dickhead!" I walking in a crouch towards the right side, I raise my hands, "Don't shoot." This is one of those situations where you can get an award for trying to keep your cool. "Who are you?" one of them almost shouts. "On your nine!" The nearest one to the dark green monstrosity actually reacted quick enough to fire off a three round burst before it took his shooting arm off. The other commando started capping off rounds like mad at the thing. It took me about half a second to react.
Some people say that running away is an act of cowardice. Kept me alive longer. It'd been almost forty-five minutes since those guys were torn from the mortal coil and I finally remembered where I'd seen them. One the visions had people that where the exact same. There's no way Umbrella could have some kind of task force. That sounds like something a guy with forty copies of 'The Catcher in the Rye' would say. Well fucked if I hadn't seen it. -What the hell is goin' on? Lighting another cigarette reminded me that I needed another car for some reason. "I see a red door and I want it painted black." I mutter starting to walk.
Walking in open spaces now has a different feeling, but I wasn't about to cut through the woods either. The trees were thick around the Radio Shack. I get to the double glass doors. I don't know why I figured the place would be unlocked. Pointing the gun at the glass, I fire the gun but I hear a collection of automatic fire and screams of pain. The west end of the building lights up on my peripheral vision. -Fuck. Getting up to the corner, there are two men and two of the things I saw tear apart the soldiers. One goes down but so does one of the people. The other guy starts unloading on the thing. It quickly turns slicing off one of the man's arms. I approached it running and blasted a lead round into the back of its head. It dropped right beside the guy. If he'd had his arm the thing would've landed on it. "Fuck!" the man shoted.
"Where the hell did you come from?" The guy kind of resembled the drummer from Def Leopard now. "Front of the building. I heard you and your buddy shooting." "I need a favor." "Sure, what?" "Shoot me in the face," he says through blood stained teeth. -This guy is fucked in the head. "What?" "Shoot me in the face." "You may not have an arm but there are prosthetics." "You're not getting it you fuckin peen-ass," he moans. "I have the disease." -"A new strain of the flu is running rampant through out the city." "Well goddamn." the thought leaked its way through my brain. Drawing the hammer back, gun aimed; I'd never killed a person. The action that a gun makes is just a concentrated explosion. The bullet is the shrapnel. The sound of the trigger being pulled echoes. Picking around I find one working Mp5 and one loaded clip. There were seven left in the gun. -That Umbrella team was pretty ill prepared I guess.
Looking around in a place as big as this is hard at night. I find the package marked 'Ignition Wire.' I've had to refill my lighter three times by now. SLAM! The entire building shakes a little. There's another loud noise and there are impressions in the cement. Staring at it, a faded gray outline my vision cannot make out what it is. It's standing right in front of a gas truck. One of those huge tanks on wheels. The gray figure starts to stretch its limbs and lets away the most god awful scream I'd ever heard. -Shit! I duck behind one of the shelves. That's when the scream stops and the loud rumble takes over your hearing. Not soundly judging the distance away from the explosion cost me a trip into the shelf behind me. Hoisting myself up on both legs is hard work at this point. The ringing in my ears throws off my equilibrium. -Inner ear damage. Since I can't even stand because of the ringing the thought of inner ear damage is sounding off like an alarm. Then I definitely can't do anything. After forty-five minutes and a few cigarettes, it finally subsides and I can walk.
Looking around, everything is destroyed. A sudden splitting headache tells me that I have a large gash over my eyebrow. Walking to the entrance, I see something hanging in the doorway. Only thing is I don't notice it until I bump into it and it scares the be-jesus out of me. Looking up at its hanging body, it looks as if it growing. The once invisible monstrosity is regaining the realm of the visual. A great portion of its head was blown off in the explosion. Its blood and other bodily fluids are dripping onto the sidewalk. It's hanging from the Radio Shack sign. The sound of metal twisting and breaking pierces my eardrum. I start running backwards and trip over a scorched piece of metal. This is the only thing that kept my head from being lopped off from the metal beam that was flung through the air. -Holy fuckin shit.. This just keeps getting better and better.
Shattering glass. -Alarms are fuckin annoying. Getting down to hotwire the car I notice a glimmer from my left peripheral. It's the keys to the car. Bending down, I grab one of the keys. Someone's severed right hand is still on the key. The end of the hand is dirty and torn. I pull at the wrist but it isn't about to come off the key. -I've got to get the hell out of Dodge. Laying the hand on the ground I stomp on the thumb as hard as I can. Hearing the thumb bone snap tells me I've got another car. The car makes me remember all this shitty air. The car takes a few cranks but it starts. As soon as it comes down the gas needle dropped to E. "Goddamn." I mutter to myself. I doubt there is even a gas station around here. It also probably wouldn't do any good to stand in the same place for too long thinking about it either. -Fuck it. The gates are tainted, but it's the only hope. Hope sucks.
I wonder how so much bad shit can happen in one day. I started to feel like I'd rather have more visions. They kept me conditioned in a sense. I hadn't had any in a few hours. -You're dying. More dumb shit to fill my skull with when I needed to concentrate. Looking out of the split between the sliding door and the wall of the trash bin I was in, I can still see some of the undead out and about. They're starting to chew on the corpses outside. Chink of the lighter, and the top of the bottle lights up. I toss the bottle overhead; it breaks on one of their heads and the fire spreads like piss through water. It's the greatest feeling in the world when something works better than planned. -Shit! Somebody shouts. Immediately noticing I start looking around. I see the reflection of the fire on someone's glasses. They fade out of the corner of the window. I hop out of the god- awful shit bin. One of the zombies is still stumbling around on fire. There are two on the ground already burnt to powder. The cooked flesh smell fills the air. Then, there is a sizzling sound. -It's starting to rain. I run back around the building to the car. The pump conveniently clicks and stops pumping right when I get there. -Like a fuckin video game. I have one foot in the door of the car when I feel enormous sudden pressure to my skull. I almost threw-up but I passed out before I could.
There's a room under me. It looks like a comfortable room. Numbers and letters are crossing over the walls, like somebody entering numbers on a calculator extremely fast. A lamp in the center of the room lights the room. Around the lamp is a couch and a chair. The Kool-Aid man is sitting on the couch and what could be classically described as God, or just some guy with a long beard and flowing robes, is sitting in the chair. The lamp has a thick smoke coming off the top of it. "Sit down," the bearded guy says and I'm on another couch, -Well goddamn, I finally lost it. "No you haven't," the bearded man says. "I'd thank you to stay out of my head." I retort. "Have you accepted God into your heart, because if you haven't." "Shut the fuck up." The Kool-Aid man interrupts. "Yeah, fuck it," God says, "What the hell is this?" I ask. "Think about it, you're sitting in a room with God and the Kool-Aid man," God says. "You're in a goddamn dream." Open. My eyes blink and a harsh pain starts in my eyes and cuts through the rest of my head. I roll to my left immediately smashing my head into a steel bar. "Ahh, fuckin' a." I mutter grabbing my head. This light over my head has to be a surgical light; it's the purest white light I've ever seen. I get off the bed and stand up. My eyes clear and I hear the cha-chink of the bolt on a door. I step over behind the door just as it opens. A lanky man wearing a lab coat strolls in looking at a clipboard. "Well, mister." This is when I step to him and lock my arm around his neck just tight enough to where he can still breathe. "Make another noise and you'll be one of those things wondering around outside this place." I whisper in his ear. I put my hand in his lab coat pockets. I remove a plastic card, an empty syringe, and thirty-five cents. "Where the fuck am I?" I ask sounding panicked. He looks at the floor, to the right and then at me. "You're in an Umbrella lab, a few hundred feet under ground." He says this as if it the most natural thing in the world. "You gotta be fuckin shittin' me." "No."