Zombie Tales- Walking out of the water. chapter 1 w/ poem
Bottomwalker through the night,
knows not wrong, knows not right.
First to win, first to fight,
closes its eyes, for to have no site.
Deaths all it knows, it breathes in wrong.
It runs into battle, blood thirsty and strong.
It travels the land in destruction song
and revels in its tendrils long.
Taking all without a care,
Showing sins no one would dare.
Reach out it’s hand for all to share,
be ware the cost.
Zombie Tales chapter 1rst.
Walking out of the water
I had traveled this road many times before. Indeed, the road was my home. My bed was anywhere I chose to lay my head. An old, and experienced hand, a master of technique.
Sometimes it grows dull, this deadly life of adventure. When every kill is just a warm body with a bullseye, every bug is just a nuisance. But, I am not deterred. All things flow in circles. I have only to wait and see, what is around the next corner?
This wanderlust which takes me every October. When the leaves turn crisp and leave their perches to reinvent themselves. Becoming earth, becoming shelter or home for squirrels, becoming a mothers protective embrace for soon to exist buds, becoming any number of things really.
They do it, by letting go. They cast themselves from their branch of origin, open their clasp and simply fall. The wind is the helmsman. Who can know wither it blowest?
Thus my friend the weathercock, announces the changing of the guard. Pointing at the seasons promise. Will it be a good harvest? Will there be famine?
I am lowly serf, waiting on the march of time. I am hobo, tramping with my stick, cooking beans over the fire. The dull colors of this world will change with the current. Every rain brings a rainbow, though its end will always be elusive.
It’s hard to find a challenge, in a world known like the back of ones hand. I walked into town. The town so dull, that even its excitement is just a rerun of things done before. This is my home. oh well, I shall go through the routine with my eyes closed. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do, If this world is no longer a challenge, I shall challenge myself. Stealth? Fuck you. Mission? Fuck you. You are so pathetic, I can fuck you with my eyes closed, and my brain half asleep.
I can be a zombie and still succeed. DuuuuuuuuuuH. Maybe then I can drum up some excitement. I’d best stock up on supplies. This paper house of a body has needs after all. Not to mention I am so loaded up with crap, I need to dump it off somewhere. Must have been too many beans in the system.
Why are people so obsessed with their crap? They examine every detail as if they are looking for treasure. How incomprehensibly dull. Nope, not for me. I’ll unload later. What the hell, I may as well hit the bar first.
The bar sits just a ways down from the supply station. acquiring a few drinks in exchange for the tales I tell, The liquid does nothing for me, leaving my thirst no more quenched than it was, when I first came into this rat hole of a bar. I, zombie shuffle out of there. Duuuuuuuh.
Next door lives a man. He’s quite the guy. Everyone likes him, and he likes himself too. I just know this guy has some kind of evil secret hidden in his closet. I have no idea what it is, but this guy can’t be for real. No way. He’s too content. Fucking bastard.
I also know that it is not ever likely that I will discover his secret. His very existence is a big neon sign in my face. FUCK YOU, it says. I hate him. But my passion of hate is just as dull as the rest of this town. Whats the point?
I know I won’t discover anything, but I break into his house anyway. It is next door to the bar after all. I am too bored to care what I do. I’m a zombie with my eyes closed.
What will be, will be. I’ll shuffle my zombie walk till I can’t walk no more, or until, someone shoots me in the head. I am thirsty. So very thirsty.