A Short Story by SonofVampyr
March 21, 2012 at 12:15 pm
Short Story, M (16+)
Horror | Romance | Death
Upload Stats: 4.7
Stars by 5
users with 7
comments and 325
66.6 FM: Zombies, Live from Chicago
It’s cold outside in the Chicago streets. Men, women, and children are cuffing their hands as they head home on this freezing night. One particular couple had just came from the bar whose lives will be forever changed. They had be drinking quite a bit. Mostly the man, Alexei. He took after his father, James Kane, as a heavy drinker and a high tolerance to do so. His girlfriend, Mia, had just been given the opportunity to tour around the world as a signed artist. Their party was all but over as they encountered a rather large stone lying in the alley…
“Mia, look at this rock!” shouted Alexei. She came to his side, examining the statue. After several minutes of Alexei trying to figure out what it was, Mia finally realized what was before them.
“Its an Easter Island Head. This is cool, but, what is it doing here? Maybe its a replica,” replied Mia. Suddenly, the stone began to emit a jade green light began to form. A sphere of light began to form from its mouth. It began to make a slight whistling sound, like nails on a chalkboard.
Alexei, mesmerized by this manifestation, touched the sphere. His fingers quickly became cold and frail, as if he was dying. The feeling of a thousand knives entering his chest came to be. It was as if poison or some living creature was coursing through his liquor filled veins. Alexei fell to the littered ground, weak and broken, like an old man. Mia, desperate for help screamed, “Someone, please help!” She proceeded to dial 911 on her phone. Crying, she lifted her moaning boyfriend’s to her.
Several hours later, Alexei awoke in Rush University Medical Center. The doctors constantly asked Mia of the events that took place. She proceeded to tell the story as, they awaited Alexei’s consciousness. Dr. Vincetti had diagnosed insanity due to bloodline reports of his father, James. “Mr. Kane, wake up. Hello? Sir. We are sending you to Absalom Asylum,” Vincetti said. Alexei struggled to understand. His father wasn’t insane. James, had been the drummer and lyricist to controversial blackened-death metal band Autopsia Cadaverum. Due to the largely explicit lyrics, he was sent to the same asylum Alexei was going to.
“I’m not insane!! Let me go! Whatever that stone did to me, its real!!!” exclaimed Alexei. He thrashed around as the velcroed gurney bound him. As the ambulance entered the iron gates of the estate. Alexei was injected wit a green serum. He fell into a deep haze. His vision became limited, a glassy blur. He woke to a cafeteria, resembling that of a prison lunchroom.
“Hey, fresh meat, what you here for?” one of the patients said, “Listen, this ain’t an asylum. It’s something else…” Alexei took a moment to comprehend what the old man had said to him. He was still in a haze.
Several large man in white scrubs come in and took one of the patients. The girl screamed and kicked as she was dragged away. “Where are they taking that girl?” asked Alexei.
The old man replied,” I don’t know. But, when they let her go, she’ll never be the same.” With every second passing by, Alexei’s heart began beating faster and faster. Then, the old man rolled his wheel chair to the nearest window and looked outside. A dark figure was leaning against the tree. It almost resembled Death himself. Neither Alexei nor the old man could make sense of it.
That night, the power went out and loud screams echoed through the barren halls of Absalom. They were of a man. Alexei staggered to the door of his room to see what is was. The old man lay in a pool of blood on the floor. “Come here son. My time is near. Before I go out, tell this black old man why you are here…” the old man said as his words stutter and fall dead as he is. Alexei, panicking, tried to recollect what happened that night.
“Umm, I saw a big stone head. It glowed green from its mouth. I touched it and felt tortured, broken, and weak, “Alexei replied.
The elderly man closed his eyes for a moment, taking one of his last breaths. He said, “That is how I got here…,” choking on his words, “Boy, find out what is going on. Do it for all of us. Do it for that girl, for yourself, and do it for me.” The storms set in his eyes, as his life withered away. Other patients began to gather around them. Each witnessing all that had transpired between Alexei and the old man. Pain stricken tears drenched the bloody floor as Alexei held the man.
Doctors came from their offices and met at the center of the commotion. Alexei’s long blond hair was lying in the pool of blood. He was stunned from what he had just witnessed and heard. The large doctors dragged Alexei away. Again, he was injected with the mysterious green ooze. His consciousness began to fade.
As he woke, he found himself in a surgery room. He was bound to the bed beneath him. Vincetti came into the room with what appeared to be monk robes, resembling a cultist vibe. Alexei heard him talking a language foreign to him. It seemed to be a code, for Alexei was oblivious to what was said. Regardless, he was under the impression, something, something would happen to him. Vincetti inserted a large needle into Alexei’s vein, lowering his consciousness. As Alexei fell into a deep slumber, Vincetti proceeded to give a lobotomy. Unfortunately, Alexei woke mid-process. Thanks to the injection previously made, his ability to heal, his strength, and his reflexes were increased. Vincetti stepped away as Alexei flailed his body on the surgical bed. Now breaking free of his binds, Alexei dashed through the halls.”Get him!” shouted Vincetti, “He is valuable to our research!”
Still retaining fragments of his brain and sanity, he managed to locate the file room. Opening one of the several cabinets, he searched for the old mans file. Tyrelle Simmons. Enraged, Alexei fled the Asylum. For days, he walked until he found his way back to Chicago where he last remembered. It was 2:34 a.m. He managed to find the brewery where he and Mia had been at. Not that he remembered her at this point. At that moment, Alexei fell to the ground. He felt the same cruel pain again that he felt when he had touched the stone. His body was changing. He could feel it. Ribs were pushing their limits within his body. His eyes rolled and turned black as ebony, as muscle began to purge the barriers of his flesh. His teeth elongate, becoming harder. He had a hunger for flesh. Human flesh.
Entering the brewery, the manager of Piece walked to him. “Sir,” he said,” I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Alexei motioned closer. The managers heart began to beat faster and Alexei heard it. “Hey,” he yelled,”hold on buddy. Security! Security!” Four large bouncers approached Alexei. Within seconds, Alexei lunged for the guards. He severed the managers arm quickly and attacked the frightened guards.
Within days of Alexei’s initial attack, he ravaged the Chicago streets, claiming everyone he saw as a victim, creating an endless army of near dead followers. Sears Tower was seen aflame from nearby cities. Chinatown was already in ruin. Chinatown. Alexei began to think, something he was incapable of doing the previous hours. Chinatown was where he used to live, with a girl. Who was this woman? The song, “Ghost in the Mirror” began to play in his mind as he found himself lost and broken. Fragments of his sanity drew near. He had to find this girl. He began to search.
As his brotherhood of infected zombies pillaged the city, Alexei searched the city for this woman, this goddess who plagued his mind. Lost, he had never seen this side of Chicago. Suddenly, black armored vehicles arrived on the street ahead. They bore the same emblem as the Asylum and Vincetti’s robe: a chained fish. Out came what appeared to be S.W.A.T. Soldiers. Vincetti exited the vehicle closest to Alexei. “Get him,” he barked as he commanded the troops, “Subject 613 is different than the rest of our subjects. These ‘zombies’ are of no use to us. Eradicate them.” The loyal soldiers quickly proceeded to attempt apprehending Alexei. Many non-lethal rounds were fired upon him, none blessed with success. Alexei hastily retreated to a nearby house. He found a cellar door which had been barricaded. He tore the boards off it and dived into the basement.
Inside, he found a group of many frightened citizens. Hunger for flesh consumed him. Seconds passed before he would’ve satisfied his urge, the woman in his mind stepped in front of the group of people. Alexei retreated from his attack to a confused state of mind. Mia ordered,” Alexei, stop! You’re not a monster. They are! You can stop this. It’s me, Mia.” Still confused, he hesitantly motioned for her. Mia took a step back, preparing for the worst. As he drew near, his soulless eyes reflected a sign of love.
His eyebrow arose, but it was faint. Forgetful would only describe his expression. He showed a feeling of pain, as if he were injured. Truth be told, a large metal stake was lodged in his back. Alexei collapsed, roaring and hissing in pain. Instantly by his side, Mia grabbed his head and lifted it to her. Several of the men who worked for Vincetti stormed into the room with two other robed individuals. They began to drag Alexei away and he murmured his last words to her, “Mia…”
Months after, the world would come to find that Chicago had disappeared. The general public knew nothing of the events that transpired there. Those who had been hiding in refuge of the attack were soon hunted down and murdered. Those who the Absalom deemed worthy were enslaved to Vincetti's society. Mia continued to avoid Vincetti's society of Neo-Nazi like individuals. Unfortunately, as she had led one last bastion of rebellion for the survivors of the Chicago Assault, she was apprehended by the group.
"Where are the rest of the survivors?" a grossly large man asked Mia as she was thrown into a chair and tied up. With no answer, she spat in the face of the man."Bitch!" he exclaimed, as he slapped Mia's face, "I have no problem hitting women. You will tell us what we need to know or I will have no mercy in torturing you."
"I will say nothing," she replied, slowly and contempt, "You hurt Alexei and caused an entire city to fall. Things are bad, and I'm not the only one who thinks this. Your "group" has caused the deaths of hundreds of people. Innocent people."
"Well," he said, taking a breath with a razor-blade smile across his face, "to be correct, your so called lover, Subject 613 or Alex, or whatever you called him, brought this plague upon the world. His power, this godly manifestation, is amazing."
"You treat him as nothing," she said, "but he was more than this. More than just a subjective disease. He was a man. A true man, more than you can ever-"
The man proceeded to stab her in the stomach several times until she was dead. They threw her into an incinerator and her body was burned alive. To this day, patients can hear the moans of a man and the screams of a woman echo the halls of Absalom.
The stone found its way to New York, New York, where it will claim its next victim...
Last Modified: March 26, 2012 at 02:55 pm
© SonofVampyr - all rights reserved
I have grown tired of the typical, "ate a bad burger" or "struck with disease" philosophy behind how zombies arise. So I bring you this sad, but thrilling story of how zombies really come to be.
You will notice this bears resemblance to my songs possibly, I tried my hardest to be unbiased and keep the Vampyr out of this story. It is supposed to be about my future son, Alexei, however he may come to be.
If you believe anything should be added, please do not hesitate to say so. I look forward to extending once I have figured out what I desire in this piece.
→ Critical Reviews Preferred
The author would love to hear your feedback but you must be logged in to do that. If you are a member of Writers-Network click here to login and review this writing entry.
Not a member? Not a problem! You can register here, it's free for everyone
Comments & Reviews ( X 2)
|Sponsored Ads By Members
was granted non-exclusive rights to display this work
All poetry, stories, columns, and other member contributions are
owned solely by the poster
© Writers-Network.com - All Rights Reserved
Your Free Poetry Site! | Read
Todays' Poems | Upgrade
to PRO | Writing