A (Brief) Zombie Narrative

Some people probably think it is just so easy being a zombie. No need to keep a job, you shamble all day and night without getting tired, nothing would dare bother you. What they don’t see is all the bad stuff; food can be scarce, now and again something might fall off you, and the bugs! Always buzzing around; it gets annoying.

I used to be alive, you know. I had warm flesh, blood running through my veins, all that good stuff. You probably guessed that, though. I’m still not sure how it all happened but one day all hell broke loose – literally, to some people. “When hell is full the dead will walk the earth” and all that crap. Everybody started freaking out when the zombie scare started up but not a lot made it out before the undead started to outnumber the living.

I was okay until I made the mistake of trying to help someone else. It all turned out to be a set-up where the bastards were collecting people for their pet zombies. Instead of becoming dinner, though, I got “rescued” after getting a chunk taken out of me. That was all before they found out the virus or whatever the hell was the cause was transferred through bites and the like. Lucky me.

The poor saps who “rescued” me suffered, though. I guess whatever it was ran a marathon through my system and zombified me quick. One moment I was weak so I closed my eyes to rest and the next thing I knew there was screaming and I was the cause of it. Since we had all been in a van they didn’t really stand much of a chance. One or two may have gotten away unscathed but the others either got disposed of or squirmed away with a bite or two of their own.

After I got out of the damn van everything else is a bit of a blur. It’s hard to keep track of time when you don’t really need to, you know? The never-ending hunger is a bit maddening but otherwise my days and nights are spent just wandering aimlessly. Like I said earlier every now and again something might fall off but unless it’s a leg or something major you don’t really notice. It’s kind of ironic, really; now no one cares what someone else looks like, unless they look like a snack or dinner.

I don’t think they ever figured out a cure for the virus or whatever. That little bit of my humanity that’s still somehow hanging on hopes that they DO find something for it. It’s probably too late for me and a lot of others but maybe it could fix others how aren’t too far gone. Maybe just the freshly bitten, yeah? Those are the ones who would benefit the most from it, probably. If I still had enough fingers I’d cross them; can’t let all the world’s population get offed by this thing.