I Have Returned

Day 2,278, 11:02 • Published in USA USA • by wookyjack

There are some things you don’t come back from. You either live with them, or you don’t.

...he slammed the door shut. Feverishly, he wiped the sweat from his face as he braced himself against the door waiting for something big, heavy and smelling of rot to come crushing against through.

Nothing.

He knew why, too. As bleak as his future looked, will and determination still brewed inside his thoughts; the inexhaustible voice in his head clamored over and over, "Its not real. Its not real. What the hell just happened? This isn't real." Wishful thinking ran amok as he racked his head for answers.



His left forearm ached. His legs were shaking his blood felt like ice in his veins. He looked at his left hand and knew something was broken, but the adrenaline coursing through his body made him feel invincible. It did not, however, halt the lump in his throat as it became increasingly hard to swallow. His brow furrowed as he took a deep breath. Tears began filling his eyes just as he heard a moan at the door. And then a scratch.

He cursed under his breath, bit his lip and held his breathe so as not to be heard. Laying his head against the door with his ear he tried to listen
to what was going on on the other side. The door was hollow. A closet door hardly needed any obscurity, but for this particular door he wished nothing was audible.

Chewing.



No screaming or crying out for help. Just the crunching of bone and sinew pierced his ear drum. As he moved his right hand around his forearm he could feel the blood spilling through his fingers. He'd seen the movies, read the books, heard the numerous tales of what was inevitable...but it didn't click with reality.



Moving away from the door, he continued to sit on the floor facing his only exit while pressing his feet against it. Hard, as if Jack Torrance was about to cut it down with an axe. He cried. There was no hope. All that was left was self pity as the infected on the other side of the door fed on what was left of his family.


Hello, again, friends old and new. I have returned from the dark, dank chasm of inactivity. I am alive...or am I dead alive? Either way, I have returned from the grave to bring you more good tidings of zombie stories and other miscellaneous banter. I have missed this place and am once again embroiled immediately into the Erepublik politics.

It appears S.E.E.S. is no longer. I am saddened by this discovery, but happy at the same time to see that the USWP and Federalists parties have prevailed. I am also excited to see many of my old friends have risen up the political, military and/or government ranks. I am eager to assist.

Recently I have picked up a job with Trekker Tlumac in the Federalist Media Department, alongside my good buddy Devill. I guess I don't have much else to say at the moment except that I have risen and joined the legion of zombies who have returned to the best online strategy game EVAR.

Big hug, big kiss, little hug, little kiss, little kiss, big hug, big kiss.

o/

PS and for nostalgia's sake obligatory Dio Fist

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