First of all, if you're reading this right now, DO NOT STOP. Seriously. Not only does your life depend on it, but so does the rest of the world. While you go on with your life, working miserably or plugging yourself in to the T.V., the planet goes on in its rein of chaos. This blog is about my life, but it involves you, too.
I died a while ago in a car accident. No, I'm not a ghost haunting the Blogosphere. I'm a zombie. How? No idea. Keep reading. Maybe we'll both figure that out someday.
A summary of me: I don't know who I am, who my family is, or anything about my previous life, really. It's pretty amazing I'm able to think let alone write. In fact, I've found I can do a lot of things zombies aren't 'supposed' to be able to do. But I can. The reason I'm doing this: I think it's important that you get a heads up. Right now, the whole world is at stake. So far, I've only put a few tiny pieces together, but its enough to let me know that something SERIOUSLY BAD is taking place. People have been dying in 'mysterious' ways and then coming back from the dead as zombies. I've seen it. I've heard doctors from the Hospital laugh about it. These monsters go around the world, picking off people one by one in an attempt to...what? What are they really trying to do? That's what I want to know.
I know we were made in a lab. I have faint memories of my days at the Hospital (and trust me when I say - all bad). Something about zombies: we tend to forget things easily. That's also part of the reason I'm writing this blog. I guess you could say it's like my brain in a non-literal sort of way. I don't have to try and remember things after I've written them down (I can't even remember the color of my hair with my sluggish brain). I can just go back and read it again.
So what is the Hospital? In short: a prison for the dead. I used to belong to 'Project D'. Basically, the doctors torture us with what they call 'therapy' (imagine taking a nice long bath in dry ice or having 250 volts of electricity shot through your body; OW) until we die. You know – all the way. Most think that being a zombie means you're dead. But we're only partially dead. A good percentage of life is still there. Being shot through the heart or fried like a kebob isn't exactly a walk in the park.
I've only been on my own for a few weeks. There was a huge chaotic break-out at the Hospital. I don't know how it started...one minute I'm trudging through the basement which is lined with cages (all of which are packed with other undead creatures who had been tortured and experimented on) with a line of other poor souls to be given our very last therapy session before termination. All of a sudden, a buzzer goes off and every cage door flings open, unleashing the ravenous monsters from within.
Every Doctor on the scene died (as did many zombies) though they were prepared for this kind of incident. Very quickly, dark green gas seeped from beneath the walls and ceiling. People started dropping like flies, their skin melting upon connection with the gas. No one even came to try and rescue the Doctors. It was every one for himself.
Every window in the Hospital is inches thick and impossible to break, except for the tiny barred ones near the basement ceiling. Those unlucky zombies that were too late to get a piece of the Doctors had climbed onto the cages and tried ripping the bars away. A group of four was successful, though one was too big to fit through and soon perished amid the gas. I'm really slow, but at that moment I had mustered enough energy to run at least at a heavy jog and was the last to escape alive (er...mostly, anyway). Though not before I was able to snatch this laptop from the cold hands of a deceased doctor who had tried using it to fend off zombies. I wish I could have grabbed the carrier he pulled it out of, which was surrounded by folders and documents that had slipped out when it was tossed aside. There wasn't enough time. I very was lucky to get away. Escaping with this computer was like hitting the lotto. Twice.
I've been snooping around documents and photos, going through Internet history...but to be honest, most of it has been left untouched. Living it all was too horrific for words. Reading about it isn't much better (and frankly neither is talking about it...)
I don't know what happened to the others. They were much faster than me and disappeared into the night. I can't imagine they're all still out and about. It was a miracle I'd been able to escape myself...the Hospital is located near mountains in Colorado, out in the middle of nowhere. I didn't find my way to civilization until days ago, and most of us can't survive for more than a week without meat (I unfortunately found that out through therapy). I've been living off of desert rat...though I've only caught two so far, which is just enough to have held me off these past few weeks.
Death, carnage and desert rat. My life in a nutshell. That only took about six hours.
Well, anyway, I'm lying low for now - trying to figure out as much as I can about myself and what's going on (whatever's going on). I will release more as I dig deeper. In the meantime, sit back, relax, and read. It could mean the difference between life and death (or somewhere in between). Hey, you can choose to believe me or not, but in the end, it's your life. Your decision. Just don't blame me when they come for you.
- the zombeh
