Monday, September 23, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Plague at the Gates

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

Plague at the Gates

A nameless meatbag finished barring the door and then looked back to his partner.

“Thousands of ‘em. Millions maybe. They’re all standing outside, with their dead eyes, trying to get in here,” he said.

“Don’t worry, those walls are thick as your skull, they’re not coming in here,” the other replied.

“Well so what? We can’t get out either. What happens when we run out of food.”

“Eh, I’m sure they’ll move on by then.  They’re still animals, right? They’re sitting out there, trying to get to a meal that will feed what? Three of ‘em? Any animal that has a survival instinct is gonna move on before too long.”

“But what if they don’t need to eat? They’re zombies, they just live forever, right?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, they’re not zombies. They’re just people whose brains stopped working. They’re sick. Not monsters.”

“But what if they don’t go away, though? What if they just stay there?”

“Then we’ll see how long it takes ‘em to starve to death, I guess. Now enough with the twenty questions, there’s no use in worrying about things that we can’t control. We got more important things to concern ourselves with, like not letting this dinner get cold.”

We heard it all through the ventilation shaft as we crept toward them willing our bodies to stop, praying for some way to control ourselves. Instead we burst through the vent, nearly tripping over ourselves in anticipation.
We caught them, as usual. And they screamed. I always dreaded the first bite, the release of endorphins mixed with the taste of living flesh. Locked inside my killing coffin as it feasted, what scared me most was that soon I might start to like it.

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