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ZOMBIE STORY (hahaha)
Hands are not going to come shooting out of the ground at grave sites and pull the rotten bodies they are attached to out of the dirt. Hordes of already-buried-dead are never going to retreat from cemeteries and go seeking brains to chew and swallow into the empty cavities that used to hold stomachs. There are too many problems with that cute little idea. Tongues rot. The esophagus rots. Gums rot. Teeth without gums are not good for for biting. Most importantly, Brains rot. A body whose brain has relocated to earthworm guts cannot function. No central nervous system, no basic human functions. No movement. And no movement, no flesh devouring living dead.
No, that's not how it's going to happen.
One fine day, George is going to walk into his kitchen looking for a bite to eat and see his mother standing there, staring off like an oblivious idiot. Next, George will notice the blood on the floor, and that it's leaking from Dear Old Mom's wrists. She was always an overachiever; she cut them both. George decides that she's done it because of his cheating excuse for a father, and goes to help his poor parent. He's lucky he got to her in time. He doesn't notice her cloudy eyes, or the fact that she's not breathing. As he puts his arm around her and speaks some comforting words, mom leans over and bites him. So now the infection has spread.
But how did Mom get infected in the first place, before she decided to take her life? Probably no one will ever know. Maybe Mom worked with strange chemicals in a doctor's office. Maybe she inhaled a super rare strain of some scarcely-known disease. Maybe--just maybe--Mom was fucking a mad scientist who solved that age old reanimation puzzle. Mr. Mad Scientist injected her with his top secret serum while she was sleeping.
The source is irrelevant.
The only thing that is important now is not getting bitten.
I probably wont finish it. It's kinda funny though, right?
Hands are not going to come shooting out of the ground at grave sites and pull the rotten bodies they are attached to out of the dirt. Hordes of already-buried-dead are never going to retreat from cemeteries and go seeking brains to chew and swallow into the empty cavities that used to hold stomachs. There are too many problems with that cute little idea. Tongues rot. The esophagus rots. Gums rot. Teeth without gums are not good for for biting. Most importantly, Brains rot. A body whose brain has relocated to earthworm guts cannot function. No central nervous system, no basic human functions. No movement. And no movement, no flesh devouring living dead.
No, that's not how it's going to happen.
One fine day, George is going to walk into his kitchen looking for a bite to eat and see his mother standing there, staring off like an oblivious idiot. Next, George will notice the blood on the floor, and that it's leaking from Dear Old Mom's wrists. She was always an overachiever; she cut them both. George decides that she's done it because of his cheating excuse for a father, and goes to help his poor parent. He's lucky he got to her in time. He doesn't notice her cloudy eyes, or the fact that she's not breathing. As he puts his arm around her and speaks some comforting words, mom leans over and bites him. So now the infection has spread.
But how did Mom get infected in the first place, before she decided to take her life? Probably no one will ever know. Maybe Mom worked with strange chemicals in a doctor's office. Maybe she inhaled a super rare strain of some scarcely-known disease. Maybe--just maybe--Mom was fucking a mad scientist who solved that age old reanimation puzzle. Mr. Mad Scientist injected her with his top secret serum while she was sleeping.
The source is irrelevant.
The only thing that is important now is not getting bitten.
I probably wont finish it. It's kinda funny though, right?
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