Chapter 2: A lust for life
Pierot saw himself in the mirror the memories of that day shaking his soul, in the glass he saw a white faced smiling man with mascara on his eyes, it wasn't him, it was his madness, the one that longed to screw, play the guitar and fight the world, all the while grinning and chuckling. In no way was he in conflict with his madness, he reveled in it, and knew when to set it free, whenever he had to fight, or whenever the time came to reveal his soul through his guitar. He called it Alice. Or rather it named itself that.
It grinned at him, he smiled back, he put his clothes on and left, guitar in hand. He had to go meet Maggie, the older chick hair dresser at the mall who he sometimes screwed for fun. And now was sometimes, seeing his madness in the cracked mirror had excited him.
He had met her when he first came to town, in a swanky bar, the outskirts were playing that night, and Pierot saw her dancing by herself, she had fiery red hair, and wore a checkered skirt, with a leather top, she also had a bunch of tattoos, a stones one on her arm, and a moon symbol on her lower back, she looked witchy. He bought her a drink and layed her in the bathroom. Pierot liked her and whenever the need struck he visited her, her witchy ways calming his body and mind. Lust was his preferred sin after all.
Before leaving he picked his guitar, he had practice with his new band, the peyote mescal. As soon as he hit the street he felt something was wrong. The streets were dark and bloody, rotting flesh walking about clumsily, moaning and puking chunks of blood. The smell sickened him. He griped his battered guitar and ran as fast as he could, his mind too exited at the taught of danger and a possible fight, to register what was happening, zombies, a zombie apocalypse, he frowned, Le fou smiled. Consumer America was consuming itself.
A zombie came at him, by the looks of him a former star buck's employee, Pierot swung his guitar cracking the zombie on the head and sending flying into the rat infested street. Lived as a Zombie, died as a Zombie Pierot taught, always serving the mindless masses, he said as the rats feasted on the zombie head.