Post by Spirk on Dec 21, 2004 20:59:43 GMT -5
The Walk
By R. M. Carroll
Part One: The Beginning of The End
The night was cool on my skin, the moon lit the way from the heavens as it blanketed the streets with its soft glow. How I loved going for walks down the quiet streets of this once busy city. The mountains in the distance, even blacker against the ebony of the night skies a backdrop that any painter would kill for. It didn’t used to be this way, not long ago this had been a thriving city, a place of millions. Now it’s my own personal playground a place to explore, to look at the beautiful decay that had descended onto the city over the last few years, ever since the world had changed, had moved on.
I remember it well; I had been living in New York when it started. I didn’t think anything of it at first actually. I was on the hunt after all and my hunger was the only thing that mattered. The need to taste the salty copper freshness, to drink down the life sustaining substance just so I could exist for another night. That’s why I didn’t realize what was happening at first. Like I said before I was on the hunt, my target already sighted as I stalked him down the busy sidewalks of 42nd Street. Past the sex shops and the prostitutes. He was walking with a purpose, like he had somewhere to be and he did have somewhere to be, it just didn’t wasn’t where he was headed. He stood at six foot and towered well above my 5’3” body. When the time came he would be overconfident not just because I was a woman but because he was that kind of man, the kind that expected others to fear him. It wasn’t until he suddenly stopped and actually took a step back that I noticed something wasn’t right.
The crowd was moving backwards; yells and screams could be heard from those in the front as they fell to the advancing horde. The smell of them reached me long before I actually saw them. The stench of the dead, rotting flesh and gasses mixed with bacteria. With a frown of disgust I stopped moving as the people began to surge around me, their screams louder more panicked as I watched my prey fall under the tide.
The sudden screams and trampling of feet seemed to stop as the last of the stragglers rushed past me and I found myself in the bubble between the humans and the zombies. Just my prey, and myself and he had just made it to his feet a look of surprise on his face when his eyes met mine. Then they were upon us. Their clothing filthy, their skin jaundiced, some were already missing eyes and other various body parts, the odor that came off of them was the most fowl stench I had ever inhaled with my heightened senses. I could only sigh with irritation as they stumbled down the street and towards us. There was a mortuary down the way, one of the biggest in the city. I guess it must have been the busy season for them as their previous patients, the recently dead, shambled forwards into the streets, where they attacked and killed anyone within reach of their grabbing fingers and their gnashing teeth. Many of those whom these dead killed got up and joined the mob as it moved outward in a rather vicious circle.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I muttered as I unfastened my trench coat. I usually kept the coat fastened in order to keep the usual gawkers and onlookers that tried to catch a glimpse of my arsenal The katana was the perfect choice for what I needed to do here, the Glock might have worked from a distance and the vials of holy water were useless against anything other then vampires. The razor edged 300-year-old Japanese fighting sword, however, would be just what I needed for the easy removal of head from shoulders.
“Oh my God!” My prey shrieked as I turned to where he stood several feet away from me. The dead wasted no time as a group of them latched onto my former meal and they bit down, pulled and yanked on various parts of the man’s body. He screamed like a little girl as the blood and soft tissue flowed from his body. I watched as one of the hands dug into the soft flesh of my mark’s midsection and tore the flesh open. The hand burrowed into his gut and began to pull out intestines by the handful. I couldn’t tell which one by that point because there were several zombies on the man but I was both pissed and disgusted as I watched my meal fall to something other then myself.
That was the last straw, I had spent several hours picking him from the crowd and now he was lost to me, along with dozens of other possibles as these things shambled into the night. I moved among them the sword sung its tune of destruction as I took out my anger on these walking corpses. Hands grasped at my jacket but I cut them away deftly, for every swing of the sword I separated a hand from its wrist or a head from its shoulders. I danced the dance of death like I hadn’t done in years and felt the exhilaration of the blood as it boiled in my veins but in the end I knew that it was futile effort. They wouldn’t eat me; I was dead flesh, not something that they enjoyed. They could still tear me into a million pieces within seconds if I let them overtake me and that’s something I didn’t want to have happen if I could help it.
One of the things I love about NYC is that there are fire escapes everywhere! Granted I can leap with the best of them, but only having to jump up ten feet or so is a hell of a lot easier to do then trying to clear a three story building in one bound and when surrounded by zombies it’s actually a good idea to not expend too much energy because these bastards are not going to just go away. So that’s what I did, I cut a path, took two steps and launched myself at the black metal bar. May the gods bless the anal city inspectors who felt the need to build so damn many of these ugly black metal stairways. I looked down from my new vantage point and felt the need to gasp, while granted I don’t breathe anymore, I still had the urge.
There were dead people everywhere, in the street, in doorways, in alleys and a majority of them were getting up and walking. Now zombies are something that get popular among the Hollywood set about once every twenty years or so but damn those people have no clue what they’re talking about. I mean never mind the way they’ve destroyed the story of my kind, the vampyre mythos, they got the whole zombie thing down wrong too. This bullshit about it being a virus, nope sorry that’s just not the case. I’ve seen two zombie uprisings in my 500 years; both of them were direct side effects of magicks gone wrong. Zombies are a magickal creature; just like myself, just like the garou, just like the fey. Now before you ask, yes those beings do exist I’ve personally met representatives from each group so fuckall you know if you say otherwise.
I watched the people who had just fallen to the zombie hoard, watched them get up and join their attackers in a matter of moments. This wasn’t just bad this was totally fucked; someone had screwed up and done so badly. I know I said I’d witnessed two other zombie uprisings, both of which took place over three centuries ago, when the population was more spread out, the outbreaks had been easier to contain, but here, in a metropolitan city, well you might as well ring the dinner bell. I decided right then and there I needed to get out of the big apple, because the worm was taking over. I had to feed first however and as I glanced into the window of the room that the fire escape was built for I caught the sight of movement. I didn’t hesitate; I tucked my arms over my head and slammed through the window and into the apartment.
“Madre dios!” The woman screamed as she turned to meet my arrival. She was an older woman, a Latino who wore a humble dress; a shawl was tossed over her shoulder to help keep her warm. I hesitated, but only for a moment, I needed to feed and she was my only option.
“Please no hurt.” The woman whimpered as she pressed herself against the wall. I hesitated again and cursed myself for the weakness I still felt for the mortal coil. It had been over 500 years since the madman had bitten me, had drained me and then turned me but I still felt sorry for the older folks and the children. The woman I had cornered in her own apartment had a family of her own, a husband, a child, a father, a brother. But I needed what she had; I needed her blood so that I could survive. The least I could do was make it painless.
“Rest.” I whispered as I waved my hand over her face. Her face went slack, the fear gone as her eyes slipped closed. I didn’t often use my mind powers; most of those I fed off of deserved to feel every ounce of pain, every last bit of terror as I drank them dry. Of course I hunted men mostly, men who tended to be young and fit and if possible had an attitude towards women. This lady had none of that and I felt guilt for the first time in a long time as I sank my teeth into her artery and drank down her life’s blood. Sure I could justify this, could tell myself that it was because of this damnable outbreak that I’m forced to feed off of some innocent old lady, but I knew that was bullshit. At that very moment I felt something else I hadn’t felt in a long time as the zombies began to spread. I felt fear, fear that this could be then end, the end for real.
I hadn’t even noticed when my victim had stopped breathing, when her heart had come to a stop. I had ended my feeding before that point, just as I had done every night for the last 500 years but I held her body in my arms, my head held back, my eyes closed as I looked off into the horizon of my mind. I saw what was coming; I saw the death, the mayhem, and the total collapse of civilization. I knew then that some of us would do hungry, that the weak would be destroyed, it was going to be survival of the fittest and it was going to happen soon, sooner then anyone was expecting.
By R. M. Carroll
Part One: The Beginning of The End
The night was cool on my skin, the moon lit the way from the heavens as it blanketed the streets with its soft glow. How I loved going for walks down the quiet streets of this once busy city. The mountains in the distance, even blacker against the ebony of the night skies a backdrop that any painter would kill for. It didn’t used to be this way, not long ago this had been a thriving city, a place of millions. Now it’s my own personal playground a place to explore, to look at the beautiful decay that had descended onto the city over the last few years, ever since the world had changed, had moved on.
I remember it well; I had been living in New York when it started. I didn’t think anything of it at first actually. I was on the hunt after all and my hunger was the only thing that mattered. The need to taste the salty copper freshness, to drink down the life sustaining substance just so I could exist for another night. That’s why I didn’t realize what was happening at first. Like I said before I was on the hunt, my target already sighted as I stalked him down the busy sidewalks of 42nd Street. Past the sex shops and the prostitutes. He was walking with a purpose, like he had somewhere to be and he did have somewhere to be, it just didn’t wasn’t where he was headed. He stood at six foot and towered well above my 5’3” body. When the time came he would be overconfident not just because I was a woman but because he was that kind of man, the kind that expected others to fear him. It wasn’t until he suddenly stopped and actually took a step back that I noticed something wasn’t right.
The crowd was moving backwards; yells and screams could be heard from those in the front as they fell to the advancing horde. The smell of them reached me long before I actually saw them. The stench of the dead, rotting flesh and gasses mixed with bacteria. With a frown of disgust I stopped moving as the people began to surge around me, their screams louder more panicked as I watched my prey fall under the tide.
The sudden screams and trampling of feet seemed to stop as the last of the stragglers rushed past me and I found myself in the bubble between the humans and the zombies. Just my prey, and myself and he had just made it to his feet a look of surprise on his face when his eyes met mine. Then they were upon us. Their clothing filthy, their skin jaundiced, some were already missing eyes and other various body parts, the odor that came off of them was the most fowl stench I had ever inhaled with my heightened senses. I could only sigh with irritation as they stumbled down the street and towards us. There was a mortuary down the way, one of the biggest in the city. I guess it must have been the busy season for them as their previous patients, the recently dead, shambled forwards into the streets, where they attacked and killed anyone within reach of their grabbing fingers and their gnashing teeth. Many of those whom these dead killed got up and joined the mob as it moved outward in a rather vicious circle.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I muttered as I unfastened my trench coat. I usually kept the coat fastened in order to keep the usual gawkers and onlookers that tried to catch a glimpse of my arsenal The katana was the perfect choice for what I needed to do here, the Glock might have worked from a distance and the vials of holy water were useless against anything other then vampires. The razor edged 300-year-old Japanese fighting sword, however, would be just what I needed for the easy removal of head from shoulders.
“Oh my God!” My prey shrieked as I turned to where he stood several feet away from me. The dead wasted no time as a group of them latched onto my former meal and they bit down, pulled and yanked on various parts of the man’s body. He screamed like a little girl as the blood and soft tissue flowed from his body. I watched as one of the hands dug into the soft flesh of my mark’s midsection and tore the flesh open. The hand burrowed into his gut and began to pull out intestines by the handful. I couldn’t tell which one by that point because there were several zombies on the man but I was both pissed and disgusted as I watched my meal fall to something other then myself.
That was the last straw, I had spent several hours picking him from the crowd and now he was lost to me, along with dozens of other possibles as these things shambled into the night. I moved among them the sword sung its tune of destruction as I took out my anger on these walking corpses. Hands grasped at my jacket but I cut them away deftly, for every swing of the sword I separated a hand from its wrist or a head from its shoulders. I danced the dance of death like I hadn’t done in years and felt the exhilaration of the blood as it boiled in my veins but in the end I knew that it was futile effort. They wouldn’t eat me; I was dead flesh, not something that they enjoyed. They could still tear me into a million pieces within seconds if I let them overtake me and that’s something I didn’t want to have happen if I could help it.
One of the things I love about NYC is that there are fire escapes everywhere! Granted I can leap with the best of them, but only having to jump up ten feet or so is a hell of a lot easier to do then trying to clear a three story building in one bound and when surrounded by zombies it’s actually a good idea to not expend too much energy because these bastards are not going to just go away. So that’s what I did, I cut a path, took two steps and launched myself at the black metal bar. May the gods bless the anal city inspectors who felt the need to build so damn many of these ugly black metal stairways. I looked down from my new vantage point and felt the need to gasp, while granted I don’t breathe anymore, I still had the urge.
There were dead people everywhere, in the street, in doorways, in alleys and a majority of them were getting up and walking. Now zombies are something that get popular among the Hollywood set about once every twenty years or so but damn those people have no clue what they’re talking about. I mean never mind the way they’ve destroyed the story of my kind, the vampyre mythos, they got the whole zombie thing down wrong too. This bullshit about it being a virus, nope sorry that’s just not the case. I’ve seen two zombie uprisings in my 500 years; both of them were direct side effects of magicks gone wrong. Zombies are a magickal creature; just like myself, just like the garou, just like the fey. Now before you ask, yes those beings do exist I’ve personally met representatives from each group so fuckall you know if you say otherwise.
I watched the people who had just fallen to the zombie hoard, watched them get up and join their attackers in a matter of moments. This wasn’t just bad this was totally fucked; someone had screwed up and done so badly. I know I said I’d witnessed two other zombie uprisings, both of which took place over three centuries ago, when the population was more spread out, the outbreaks had been easier to contain, but here, in a metropolitan city, well you might as well ring the dinner bell. I decided right then and there I needed to get out of the big apple, because the worm was taking over. I had to feed first however and as I glanced into the window of the room that the fire escape was built for I caught the sight of movement. I didn’t hesitate; I tucked my arms over my head and slammed through the window and into the apartment.
“Madre dios!” The woman screamed as she turned to meet my arrival. She was an older woman, a Latino who wore a humble dress; a shawl was tossed over her shoulder to help keep her warm. I hesitated, but only for a moment, I needed to feed and she was my only option.
“Please no hurt.” The woman whimpered as she pressed herself against the wall. I hesitated again and cursed myself for the weakness I still felt for the mortal coil. It had been over 500 years since the madman had bitten me, had drained me and then turned me but I still felt sorry for the older folks and the children. The woman I had cornered in her own apartment had a family of her own, a husband, a child, a father, a brother. But I needed what she had; I needed her blood so that I could survive. The least I could do was make it painless.
“Rest.” I whispered as I waved my hand over her face. Her face went slack, the fear gone as her eyes slipped closed. I didn’t often use my mind powers; most of those I fed off of deserved to feel every ounce of pain, every last bit of terror as I drank them dry. Of course I hunted men mostly, men who tended to be young and fit and if possible had an attitude towards women. This lady had none of that and I felt guilt for the first time in a long time as I sank my teeth into her artery and drank down her life’s blood. Sure I could justify this, could tell myself that it was because of this damnable outbreak that I’m forced to feed off of some innocent old lady, but I knew that was bullshit. At that very moment I felt something else I hadn’t felt in a long time as the zombies began to spread. I felt fear, fear that this could be then end, the end for real.
I hadn’t even noticed when my victim had stopped breathing, when her heart had come to a stop. I had ended my feeding before that point, just as I had done every night for the last 500 years but I held her body in my arms, my head held back, my eyes closed as I looked off into the horizon of my mind. I saw what was coming; I saw the death, the mayhem, and the total collapse of civilization. I knew then that some of us would do hungry, that the weak would be destroyed, it was going to be survival of the fittest and it was going to happen soon, sooner then anyone was expecting.