Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Where is the Chosen 1?



After an unprecedented overflow of concerned calls and letters by all the beautiful women of the world asking where Jay MF Ruez is, our covert news team has finally located him and asked him for the reason of his sudden silence. His response:

“Ladies, the chosen one has not forgotten ya, nonono, still love the shit out of ya, even the regular looking ones. Daddy is still alive and cooling. Prophecy still in effect. Gospel of Impregnation still a go. Reason for the resent silence is because a lot of shit went down, daddy will recap the whole EPIC adventure for ya so that my legend can be told to the new world of Jay MF Ruez created babies. Mwah ladies, I’m playing Cutie right now thinking of ya”

And There You Have it Ladies, dudes stop hating. Jay MF Ruez is safe and apparently has some EPIC & LEGENDARY account of his recent interactions with the zombies.

Stay Tuned

This is why no one likes Mondays

Screaming, more screaming, and blood... That’s all I sensed at the moment. “May! Oh my God, May, what did you do? Can you hear me? Please, talk to me.” I finally snapped to, dropping the shovel as I surveyed the damage. I could not bear to look anymore, especially at the carnage that was once Charlie. I let myself fall into Cray’s embrace. “May, I don’t know what’s going on around here, but we need to call Edie. You know she’s on top of weird, unexplainable shit.” I just nodded and let her lead me back into my home. I collapsed on my sofa, still really shaken by the experience. Cray looked at me. "OK… what the hell happened?" She extended a tissue from the box on the coffee table next to the sofa, and patiently waited for me to recount my morning. About an hour and a whole tissue box later, I was done with my tale and more composed. Cray began searching through my house for some acceptable clothes and items to pack. In the hour I was mumbling away, she seemed to be mentally packing, arranging and setting up my itinerary for the day. I let her live out her agenda; I trusted her wholeheartedly. I grabbed a towel from under the sink, picked up the shovel, and went back out to the butchery. Gently, I wrapped what was left of Charlie in the towel, and headed toward my backyard to bury his remains. I could care less about the bloody stump lying across my front lawn. I made a little grave and, as I began to cover the site, Cray came running out the back door. "We got to go, now!" Confused, I looked at her as she started half dragging me back to the front of the house. "Cray, what’s going on? I need to lock up the house…" "We do not have time, I just spoke with Edie." She began loading my car, which was right in the driveway, with the 'essentials' she’d packed for me. This translated into 2 duffel bags of, who the hell knows what, and 3 grocery bags full of water, some fruits, a flashlight, a mix of AA and AAA batteries, and I couldn’t make out the rest. "We’re going to pick her up at her job. She said she knows what’s going on... well sort of knows. Says Luis knows more but hasn’t reached out to her in over 24hrs. He’s out in Atlanta doing God knows what… Anyway, she said we need to hurry to her." "Cray, wait. I can’t just leave everything. What about Michael?" At the name, Cray cringed a little. "Cray, I know you hate him right now, but he’s still your husband, and my brother. Have you heard anything from him at all?" She just shook her head. "Did you check all your messages; you mentioned you received a lot." "Did you check yours?" she tartly responded. At this, I looked at my hand and realized it was gripping the shovel, not my phone. Cray caught the glance to my right hand. "I put it in the 'essentials' bag; we’ll charge it in the car. He didn’t call me, but he called you…" She began to look past me. I turned around to follow her line of sight… We both then looked at each other, and practically jumped into the car. Doors locked, engine on, shovel tossed in the backseat... I had never pulled out of my driveway so fast! As I did, I heard the sickening thump and crunch as I ran over what Cray and I had just been starring at. It was my neighbor, Ms. Xavies - only her head was in the wrong direction long before my car ran over it… Way to start off my Monday!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The End is Just the Beginning 1/2

It's the end of the fucking world. I'm all alone. I've lost everything and everyone I've ever cared about. The only one who hasn't left my side is my beloved Beatriz. I know I'm not the only survivor left out there. I'm tired of being by myself, with only my thoughts: The memories of a much happier time......
I'll never forget that first day. I woke up with an unbareable headache from the festivities of New Year's Eve at the Thirsty Turtle - my beautiful girlfriend sleeping at my side. Her name was Shelah. She had long legs, brown hair, innocent brown eyes, and the most amazing smile. You know, perfect. We grew up together, only a few blocks away from one another in Pelham Bay. We never really spent much time together over the years because we went to different high schools and had different groups of friends. We reconnected about a year ago, and it immediately became something great. I was in love - Something I never knew before; something I never thought I could feel... We were the couple that they wrote novels about, and romantic screenplays. We couldn't wait to get married. We saw our children in each other's eyes: Baby, Mary Anne, and her big brother, James Maldonado. We were perfect.
I was woken up by a news report on my clock radio, rather than the usual 101.9 morning music. All I could hear before I shut off the alarm was "stay indoors." So I assumed we were probably just getting another snow storm. I woke up Shelah, and headed down to make some breakfast. My dogs were barking at the front door repeatedly. I told them to shut up. I figured there was a dog outside the house and they were just being territorial. My mother, Mary Anne, was already in the kitchen making eggs and wheat toast. She definitely wasn't your average mother. She was perfectly fit and incredibly hard working. Most people are exhausted after a single aerobic workout. She averaged 5 a day! Then she would come home and clean the entire hous,e and still find time to cook for me and my brothers. I helped her around the house because I was her only child still living at home. I definitely could have helped her more. I wish I did. Even though I didn't always show it, I loved her more than anything. She was the biggest part of what made me, me.
I guess u can say I was a good person - Stress the word "was." I was kind-hearted, loving, strong-willed, hopeful. I've always been a huge animal lover. I always tried to do the right thing, as often as I could. I worked out daily, making sure I always got my cardio in. A film major at Hunter College, I was almost ready to graduate. I was ready to spend the rest of my life in success and happiness. I had my whole life ahead of me.
So, after having breakfast with the two women who meant the most to me, I was going to drop off Shelah at her house and say hello to her parents. We exited the house, only to the sight of complete and utter chaos: Multiple cars crashed into one another, some on fire and smoking up the air... Many of my neighbors running for their lives, from their own family members. "What the fuck?!?!?" I screamed at this horrific site. I've had countless dreams about a zombie apocalypse, but never imagined it would really occur. The first thing i did was hit myself in an attempt to wake myself up. But, my intense headache gave me a pretty clear message that this was really happening.
The first words out of Shelah's mouth were "My parents!!!" as she jetted for my car. Immediately, I knew that this was a terrible idea, but I couldn't leave her alone. I had to protect her. So, I alerted my mother of the situation, to which she freaked out. I locked the door behind me and ran for my car, alongside Shelah. Her house is only about 5 blocks away from mine, so this wasn't a very far journey. I had no idea who was who, so I drove as carefully as possible, trying as hard as I could not to hit any of my fellow New Yorkers. Upon arriving at Shelah's, I knew that her parents were going to be safe. Her father locks up the place like a fortress. When we got to the front door, I noticed a mail carrier's bag on the steps, and stains of blood on the storm door. This wasn't a good sign.
After gaining entry, Shelah ran up the stairs - fastest run ever - and continued to call out to her mother. But, no answer. When we got into her living room, we could see her mother resting on her favorite chair. We tried to wake her up and inform her of whatever the hell was going on. But she wouldn't budge. I said to Shelah, "look!" as I pointed her to the bite marks in her mother's arm. Just as Shelah began to cry, her mother woke up, with the emptiest look in her eyes. She looked right at Shelah and reached out for her, scratching her neck and shoulder. I managed to pull Shelah from her mother's grasp, and headed towards the door, dragging her behind me. Still, she fought me. She didn't know what was going on, and didn't want to leave her mother like that. I had to tell her, "there's nothing we can do for her now, baby. I'm sorry. Your father can't be very far from here, and, judging by the look of the place, he isn't in much better shape than your mother right now." I couldn't keep her from crying, and I knew that there was nothing I could do to relieve this pain she was feeling. I could have only imagined how I would be if I lost my parents. All I could do is drag her to the stairs, and get her to her feet so we could escape.

There he was, at the foot of the stairs. Shelah's father looked up at us, as though he was ready to devour us both......

Monday, February 21, 2011

Homecoming 2/3

*BANG BANG* The banging continued to echo all the way up into my mothers bedroom. It sounded like someone was banging on the back door, which leads into the kitchen from the backyard. “Maybe it’s mom!” I thought to myself. Maybe she was outside in the backyard and she got locked out. She has a tendency of always leaving her keys in the house whenever she goes out to do little things like running to the corner store, or even just going downstairs to the laundry room. She never really went very far, but I always told her to take her keys with her just in case. I used to lock the door sometimes, just as a joke, and lock her outside for a minute or two. But this time there was nothing funny about what was happening outside. I ran downstairs to see what the banging was, hoping it would bring me some good news.

Just as my foot reaches the last step, I hear the back door shatter. Glass comes crashing down onto my kitchen floor in a million broken pieces. I hear foot steps entering the kitchen, crunching down on the broken glass, and I freeze in place still standing one step off the ground. Who the hell just shattered my back door? I pause on the first step, and slowly turn my head around the banister and towards the kitchen. Unfortunately for me, the wall between the living room and the kitchen blocks the back door so I couldn’t see who or what had come into the house. “Great,” I thought to myself, “now I have to walk into the kitchen and see who or what the hell that was.” As I stepped off the last stair it creaked, the same way all wooden stairs tend to creak when you’re trying to quietly sneak in or out of your house. It’s almost as if parents put a magic spell on staircases to make a ridiculously huge amount of noise at the most inconvenient times. Before I got both feet down on the floor, I heard the footsteps from the kitchen come sprinting down the hallway in my direction. Fear locked me in place as I saw my neighbor Chris come barreling toward me. His shirt was ripped and covered in blood, as was his face. He had scratches going up and down his arms, blood dripping from his lips, and a chunk of flesh missing from the top of his right forearm. Even as he was still a good 10 feet away from me I could smell something that just reeked of rotten or infected flesh. I was hoping the banging from the back door would bring me some relief from this nightmare I had come home to, but clearly this was not to be the case. I knew I wasn’t going to get any answers from my blood drenched neighbor, who was now charging at me as if he just caught me sleeping with his wife, so I did the logical thing and tried to get my ass the hell out of there.

Luckily for me I turned and made it up two stairs before doing the stupidest thing you could possibly do in a situation like this. Yep you guessed it, I fell. My neighbor, or whatever the hell this thing was now that used to be my neighbor, grabbed my left ankle and started dragging me down the stairs. Lucky for me despite losing some weight I was still pretty damn big, and not that easily dragged. I turned over and kicked him square in the face with my right foot, and sent him flying backwards into the wall. He hit the wall with such a thud that he broke a nice sized hole in it. Great now I have to worry about fixing a wall when all this mess is over, exactly what I needed! I run up the stairs and go straight into my mothers’ bedroom, because it’s the only room with a phone in it on the second floor. I locked the door and dive across the bed reaching for the house phone. I don’t know what I expected to happen when I picked up that phone, but I dialed 911 and of course…busy. “Shit! Now what?!” I hear my neighbor make it to the top of the stairs, and of course he can tell which room I’m in seeing as how it’s the only one with the door closed. I don’t know how much protection I thought a thin wooden door and one lock was going to offer me, but it clearly wasn’t enough. I’ve gotten angry and punched holes straight through doors like these before, so it was no difficult task for this thing to just charge at the door and break it off the hinges. Now he’s in the room with me, and I’m standing there wide eyed like a deer in headlights with nothing but a house phone in my hand and that annoying busy signal noise chirping away like there’s no tomorrow. The only thought racing through my mind is “Now what the hell am I going to do?”

Unthinkable Finale 2/2

     I fired ahead and shot one of the zombies in the knee cap, but it took me two shots while the other moved past this crippled one.  He lunged at me while I was rolling over and I fired right at his face and once while he was down.  This leaves me with one bullet which I was proud to walk right up to this garbage undead and blast right in its brain.  I immediately went into the hallway and went straight into my rooms direction where Pippo was still barking.

     Upon arriving at my room's door I noticed these zombies were breaking it down and left a huge hole down the middle.  Mah du Pippo was almost dinner and I can assure you I wouldn't have been able to go on with the guilt.  I opened the door and picked him up in relief.  His heart racing at an unprecedented rate.

     This is the point now where I realize it won't be too safe to just linger in one place.   I am going to need to find other survivors and hopefully their shelter is still worthy of being called a safe-house.  This night will result in me boarding up the back door with the kitchen table wood.

     It only took me 1 hour for that operation to take place and this is the point where I'd shut all the lights off and make sure Pippo has everything he needs upstairs so he doesn't require barking to alert me.  I decided from this day forth the 2nd floor wouldn't be the safest place in the house, but I should take this to the 3rd floor.  I am now thinking I should go to my car and get "Old Faithful" and bring it inside because I could have sure used it earlier.

     The time comes around 9 p.m. where I grow about insecure not having my hockey stick handy and I decide I'll see if it is clear outside so I can grab it from the backseat.  When I reach the living room and look through the blinds out the front window I see a horde of zombies at the surrounding houses.  Must be about 20 or 25 of them.  "How the hell is this happening?!?" is the only thing running across my mind.  Within seconds I hear something I had hoped I'd never hear and it makes me realize there was one thing I forgot to do...check the 3rd floor.  The sound of furniture moving and constantly.  Pippo is beginning to bark and I am worried the horde will hear him.  Not to mention all I have is my gun which would be too loud and draw the attention to my house.  I cant deny the panic spreading throughout my body and mind.  I decide to keep the door leading to the 3rd floor locked until I can find something silent and pray it is just one.  When I collected my thoughts I realized I had an entire golfing set downstairs in the laundry room and had an assortment of weapons to utilize.

     The 3-Wood always worked wonders for me and I am certain it wont fail me now, but to be safe I will take my 8-Iron as well.  I place the 9mm in the back of my pants and decide to make sure people is calm and anybody that had the luxury to meet the guy know all that will take is some bread.  This is the moment where I am so friggin annoyed that I unlock the door quietly and make my way up to the 3rd floor gingerly.  I wait about 5 steps from the top hoping a sound is made so I can know which direction to give my attention first.  The sound is finally made and it is just to the right in the large living room with the connected kitchen.  No way around it at this point I am freaking out because the 3rd floor always scares me at night since I was just a boy.  I have my 3-Wood in hand because it has longer range and I creep slowly towards the living room when I noticed something I couldn't believe.  One of the walkers was upstairs in my house standing at the window and stumbling backwards pushing the couch back and coffee table.

     I move into the room and look left into the dark kitchen and it seems clear.  It crosses my mind that this thing will likely smell me as I approach it closer.  So i noticed the lamp was within reach of me and I outstretched my arm and grabbed it.  Too bad once I grabbed this lamp the sound of the cord in socket getting pulled drew the attention of this undead woman and she turned quickly and screeched.  Not only am I pissed she is in my house and I am going to have to clean up, but that screech was awful.  I dropped the lamp and clutched my 3-Wood like I would a baseball bat and swung directly at her temple.  She dropped hard and that's when I switched to my 8-Iron and bashed her head in multiple times.

     Now I realize it is best to be safe and check the rest of the floor for walkers and fortunately there was nothing left for me to kill.  I am annoyed because I have an OCD with being clean and keeping things clean, but this horde outside is preventing me from clearing these bodies.  Instead I decide to tie this one undead woman up to the door hinge with a rope that was in the hallway closet.  While also locking the door until morning.  Next up were the zombies downstairs.  I brought them all into one room and tied them together by their legs and closed them in my parents room until morning and sealed that door off as well.

    There better not be anymore traumatic events like this because I will likely lose my nerve and get careless with precautions and just light these creatures up.  God, why is this happening?!