User:Sparrisen: Difference between revisions

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(New page: Sparrisen, literally meaning 'asparagus', was a normal teenage girl in Malton. She lived in suburb of Yagoton. They had been informed that anyone (most of them anyways) who gets killed by ...)
 
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Sparrisen, literally meaning 'asparagus', was a normal teenage girl in Malton. She lived in suburb of Yagoton. They had been informed that anyone (most of them anyways) who gets killed by a zombie turns to on himself. When the first zombies were sighted she fought with the others of the neighbourhood. But one day in May, when a horde arrived and sound of guns was declining, she thought to herself: "What's so bad about being one of these creatures? They're just like we, some are even slightly organised."
Sparrisen (Rzbzarrarrzrzhan in Zombish, his preffered language) was a normal teenage boy living in the suburb of Yagoton. Before the infection spread to Yagoton they were recommended to evacuate because, supposedly, anyone who gets killed by a 'zambah' turns to one himself.
The first wave of zombies had fallen, but there were more. Many more. She didn't fight anymore. She threw her gun aside, waiting for the next zombie. It grabbed hold of her neck, drilling it's fingers deep into her veins. She didn't react. The zombie threw her away. She landed on the grass of one of the gardens. She could see the hordes run through the neighbourhood. She saw them feasting on her family and friends. She din't react. Not even when one of the zombies picked her up with a grin. She was now face to face with the creature and she could see it's eyeballs. They had rolled back into the head of the creature. "It doesn't look that scary after all" she thought to herself. It tried to break it's way in to her head. Its claws were deep in her head, and its teeth were gnawing it's way to her brain. She could feel the cold.
 
It was the plague. And she welcomed it with a smile, knowing that she would not die, but become one of these creatures, perhaps, one day, she would lead some of them into victory in Malton. No, not the. Us. She was one of them. She was hungry. She wanted to taste manflesh. It would keep her alive.
When the first zombies were sighted in the suburb he fought together with the survivors but as the zombies only grew in number and the survivors declined he was struck by a thhought: what's so bad about being a zombie, really? Some of them are even (slightly) organised.
Now, four years after the outbreak, the zombie has visited Ridleybank and other suburds, taking part in the siege of Nichols Mall, feasting with fellow feral zombies. She had found her calling. Her place in the world.
It was like a revelation, they're like us, fighting for food, for survival. After this moment Sparrisen fought no more. He threw his weapon, a mighty old newspaper which had served him well, aside as the next zombie fixed its eyes on him.
These were her kin.
 
It grabbed hold of his neck, drilled it's teeth into the delicate skin and tossed him away, taking on another survivor.
Sparrisen felt the cold embrace as he lay there in the grass, seeing how his family and friends of old got slaughtered and feasted upon.
He didn't react anymore. Not even when a zombie picked him up, its eyes rolling backwards as it tried to gnaw its way into his brain.
He was totally calm. He could feel the plague, the infection. And he welcomed it with a smile.
 
 
He had won a mental victory over himself. Now he understood, now he knew.
These were his kin.

Revision as of 17:46, 15 August 2011

Sparrisen (Rzbzarrarrzrzhan in Zombish, his preffered language) was a normal teenage boy living in the suburb of Yagoton. Before the infection spread to Yagoton they were recommended to evacuate because, supposedly, anyone who gets killed by a 'zambah' turns to one himself.

When the first zombies were sighted in the suburb he fought together with the survivors but as the zombies only grew in number and the survivors declined he was struck by a thhought: what's so bad about being a zombie, really? Some of them are even (slightly) organised. It was like a revelation, they're like us, fighting for food, for survival. After this moment Sparrisen fought no more. He threw his weapon, a mighty old newspaper which had served him well, aside as the next zombie fixed its eyes on him.

It grabbed hold of his neck, drilled it's teeth into the delicate skin and tossed him away, taking on another survivor. Sparrisen felt the cold embrace as he lay there in the grass, seeing how his family and friends of old got slaughtered and feasted upon. He didn't react anymore. Not even when a zombie picked him up, its eyes rolling backwards as it tried to gnaw its way into his brain. He was totally calm. He could feel the plague, the infection. And he welcomed it with a smile.


He had won a mental victory over himself. Now he understood, now he knew. These were his kin.

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