There was this one time... I was walking through the supermarket isle “purchasing” some groceries. I was actually stealing everything since there was no one else in the city. This is back when the evacuation process was held, and I was off somewhere random doing some random thing that I can’t recall at the moment. Back when I was the only person in sector 12, with only my horse to accompany me. Yes, i indeed owned a horse and that is how i preferred to travel, since in some places it was impossible to get by in a car because of all the vehicles that were just left on the street. I named my horse, Balthazar. Balthazar translated to “Baal protect the King”, and since I regarded myself as the head authority of this vast and empty nation, I thought it was very fitting for it to have that name. Anyways, I was casually walking through the supermarket isle with quite a large amount of baguette and cheese cradled in my arms. I had the choice of almost everything I can think of, but for some reason I only settled for baguette and cheese. I had dropped a giant block of wrapped cheese on the ground, and in the midst of picking it up, I looked up in front of me. What I saw was truly a gruesome image. My horse, Balthazar, was being shredded to pieces by a hoard of zombies right outside at the entrance of the supermarket. Obviously frightened, I dropped everything and sprinted the **** out of there like a madman through the back door. Five minutes had passed and I was still running at full speed, which was pretty odd since I was a heavy smoker and my stamina wasn’t always that good. I guess the fear of death made me turn into Clark Kent for a second. While panting as if I had just scaled the Himalayas, I heard this screech from behind, the sound emitted was a sort of combination of a pit-bull's growl and a hawk’s cry. I took a quick look behind me and saw that I was being followed by one of those freaks. This brainless, barbecued version of Usain Bolt was sprinting so fast I almost urinated myself imagining him catching up to me and grabbing on to the back of my shirt. I knew he was eventually going to catch up so I just made a quick pivot to the right and ran into the closest house I could find. I didn’t really stop running so as soon as I got close to the door I just sparta-kicked that s*** down, and ran up the stairs. My intention was to come out of the side and trick the zombie into thinking I was still in the house. Being in the midst of hysteria, I panicked, and ran straight into a closet. The closet locks itself from the inside so that was a pretty stupid idea on my behalf, but I didn’t really care at that moment because I would easily kick it down if I really needed to leave. I was there calming myself for about three minutes when I suddenly heard that strange screech again. It was that d*mn zombie from earlier and he was having a bit of trouble getting up the stairs. I kept hearing him trip a couple of times and stumble down a few steps, but that f***er managed to get to the second floor and obviously caught my scent. He started slamming so hard on the closet door I almost pissed myself. He kept on slamming and slamming and suddenly, this bony a** grey hand with long nails that resembled koala claws just broke through the wood. He grabbed on to the broken part of the door and started to headbutt the s*** out of it. To my extreme relief there was a pistol right next to me (how convenient). I grabbed it, cocked it, and extended my arm outwards (to the side though). The zombie broke through the door and lunged at me. Half a second before its jaws reached my face, I shoved the nose of the pistol to its ear and discharged a bullet through its cranium. Blood shot out from its head and splashed on to my face. Face covered in red, and breathing heavily, I sunk down to the floor and released a sigh of great relief.
June 6, 2012