Me, myself and this axe! - by Francis Allan Barangan
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: The Last Days
First there was me, Ricky. I grew up in the countryside where I lived in a modest home with my family. I was the only child, though I yearned for a brother, I never had one since my daddy died in a car accident when I was seven. From then on it was only my mom and I where we moved to the city and where she struggled to pay the rent as a waitress in a local restaurant. Most of the time, my mother will also work in the night just to make ends meet. So everyday I walked home to an empty apartment. I never had friends in school. Bigger boys bullied me everyday and there wasn't a day I went home without a fat lip. I need someone to talk to. To express my grief, my fear and most of all...

My anger!

This is where Reggie manifested in full fury. Ever since I was a child, I have an imaginary friend, whom I called Reggie. I call out to him when I'm afraid, though I never really saw him, I felt his presence beside me and I felt secured. Reggie was like an older brother to me, the brother that I would've wanted, the brother that would protect me from those who would hurt me. One day a bully punched me in the nose, laughing while blood flowed from my nose like a flood. Reggie manifested himself. I felt my adrenaline pumping up, my fists hardened up like steel, and my eyes flamed with anger! Reggie Rage took control of my body where he dealt this bully with a blow to the groin. The bully went down in pain, and then Reggie kicked him in the head and body, head and body again until the bully passed out in extreme pain. Reggie and I have beaten him and there were more to follow.

However that incident did not escape the attention of the principal who happened to be passing by. I was put in detention for the whole day and the matter was spoken to my mom. But that is not the last, Reggie began beating other bullies in school and it was not long before I became the most feared student in school. But my mother, fearing something was wrong with me took me to a psychiatrist where they made me take some tests to determine if I was really losing it. Unfortunately, they discovered I have a split personality. From then on they worked on curing me. Everyday, I would have to listen to soft music and I have to endure their trainings and tests. Somehow, the procedure worked! I became convinced that I am in control of myself, that there is no other personality that exists in my body but that of Ricky. Reggie sunk to oblivion after that. I have never felt him through my entire adolescent age and I thought I never would again.

That is until the dead came back from the grave.

I am now a medical student doing attending work in a local hospital. The first news about a dead body seen walking the highway threw us all in fits. For a medical student, nothing is more hilarious than reporting a dead man walking. We ignored the news and went on to study. We had a big test the next day and it wouldn't do good to let the mind wander away to a ridiculous concept of walking dead people.

We didn't realize how wrong we were.

I was assisting a doctor to deliver a baby when I heard screams outside. The doctor who was about to deliver the baby was stunned when a group of five decaying zombies barged in the delivery room unannounced. The zombies didn't take the time for pleasantries as they rushed with arms outstretched to the doctor who did not have the time to scream. The flesh from his neck was ripped apart. The nurses tried to run but the zombies grabbed them before they could get away. They sunk their teeth in their necks. Blood spurted out from the wound and the zombies drank it like wine.

Two zombies turned their attention to the young woman in labor. The woman turned her eyes towards me begging for my help. Before I could move, the zombies bit her in the neck and the abdomen. She screamed in pain as the zombie who bit her below, ripped open the abdomen and began digging in. The zombies reached inside her and pulled out her unborn child who did not even have the time to cry as the zombie who grabbed hold of him sunk his teeth in his little body. The little child must have smelled delicious to these beasts as they struggled and fought for the biggest part. I stood there frozen while it's happening. I was so much in shock that my mind stopped thinking. My body just stood there while the zombies feast like there's no tomorrow, ripping away the flesh from the little cherubim, they broke his bones and munched with delight while the others fed on the doctors and nurses. My mind was fixed on the woman's expression. The face of fear, not just for herself, but also for her unborn child. I remember how she tried to protect her child by covering her abdomen with her hands while the zombies were eating her. I remember how she looked at me, her eyes pleading for me to help her. But all I could do is stand there. So much was happening so fast, the dead shouldn't be walking, and the dead shouldn't be eating the living. So many questions. Too many.

In a snap I started to move my way out the room. The zombies are still busy feeding that they don't took notice of me leaving. In the hallway I saw there were more of these creatures, walking erratically and feeding from victim to victim. However, it didn't take long for one to notice me. The creature hissed and salivates with hunger. With hands outstretched, it walked slowly towards me.

Cornered on a wall and no way out, I called out to Reggie in fear.

Then it happened. Fear turned to rage. Reggie's rage! Boiling up inside me. I felt myself heating up. My hands groped to find something I could use as a weapon. Then I struck gold! To my left is a glass window with red letters that read: BREAK OPEN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY. I smashed the glass and reached for the axe inside. I gripped this mighty weapon, held it over my head and looked at the face of the beast with rage.

Then I swung!

I struck the head, splitting it in half. The zombie dropped to the ground dead. Gripping my axe, I inhaled the foul air and felt the power this axe represents. The power to send the dead back to the grave. With Reggie in control once again and my newfound power in my hands, I swung at every zombie I faced, cracking their head or splitting their bodies in half. I laughed when they moaned like suckers and I finished them off with one or two swings. I swung here and there and body parts flew in every direction.

When I got done killing every zombie on this floor, I yearned to kill some more. The rage has not left me. Perhaps the years of confinement built Reggie's rage to astronomical level, I hollered with all my might as I rushed to the next floor, killing any zombie I find. When I've finished with that floor, I moved to the next floor, and the next. Until I'd ran through every floor and every door in the hospital. My voice, Reggie's voice echoed through the corridors.

I found myself returning to the same floor where the young woman died. The hospital is silent now. Only the dead bodies of victims and decapitated zombies occupied the hospital now. There was no one left alive but me. Covered in zombie slime I slowly moved inside where the remains of the young woman were still lying on top of the delivery bed. The once white bed cover was now red in blood. Her chest was cracked open where these monsters ate her heart and lungs. Suddenly I felt Reggie sinking away and I was back to being just me. I dropped the axe and felt very weak. Then I dropped to the floor and cried.

For an odd number of hours I sat there in shock. Then I felt movement coming from the bed. I moved my head and saw the corpse of the young woman slowly sitting up. Her form is horrifying. Her chest was ripped open and the bones are peeking through. Her abdomen looked like it'd been ripped by a shredding machine. But still she moves. She looked hungrily in my direction. But when she tried to stand up, she fell flat on the floor. Her spinal cord broken in two, she tried to crawl towards me. However, the blood, which was still pouring out of her body, made the floor slippery so she crawled unsuccessfully.

Her appearance and condition made me want to throw up. I picked up my axe and went out the door. I walked through corridors of dead bodies that I knew would eventually rise up in a few minutes. I walked out of the hospital only to find out there are more walking corpses there than there was inside. Again the fear started to take hold of me. As I felt the cold fear filling me, I called to the person who is more than capable of protecting me, the only person who never fails to come to my need.

Reggie, my faithful older brother.

I felt the fear sinking away. Already the zombies had noticed me, at the same time, the victims inside the hospital are starting to wake up. But it's too late for them. The fear was already turning to rage. Reggie's rage!

As I gripped my mighty axe, I held it high above my head. My body, strong in Reggie's control, I fixed my eyes on the nearest zombie.

Then I swung!

- THE END -

Broken Bat - by Francis Allan Barangan
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: The Last Days
He has been walking the hi-way.

An old man heeding a call that he has answered effectively in the past.

A man once known through his deductive ability and fighting skills that made him known throughout the world as an avenging crusader, defender of the weak and a symbol of justice.

He walks wearing his uniform. Once famous and known throughout the world is now dirty, ragged and almost unrecognizable. He carries a boomerang, black and big as a man's arm to ward of the undead that may come up behind him. In his prime he was able to throw his boomerang at pinpoint accuracy, but now he's barely able to lift it. He wears a belt, once full of gadgets, now empty and dangling round his waist, rusted and wasted. He walks the lonely hi-way to a place he believes still exists. And if by chance he met with one of the undead, he never turns back but charges on without fear or regret.

Ever ready to face the inevitable. Ever ready to heed a call. Ever the B---

A scream breaks out in the distance. The scream of a woman! His mind focuses, his blood boils. Dragging his heavy feet, he huffs to the location of the scream. There in the distance, a young woman, wounded, is crawling in the dust. Behind her, a group of the undead walked towards her salivating and full hunger. The woman desperately cries for help when she sees him. He hurried on, but his body is too slow and too weak. Age has definitely slowed him down, but that is no reason not to answer a call of help. Attempting to divert the attention of the zombies, he shouted fierce words while dragging himself. The undead barely noticed or ignored him. Now that they are almost on top of the young woman, the undead braced for a feeding frenzy.

His hands search for something he could use. He grabbed hold of a small object tucked in his back. It's a capsule he once uses to disable his enemies. He took it and threw the capsule at the undead. The capsule hit the ground and breaks empty. One of the undead noticed him but quickly turned away when one of them grabbed hold of the young woman's feet. The young woman screams in terror and pain as the undead holding one of her foot tooka bite at one of the fingers. He hollered, still trying to divert attention as he lumbers nearer to the person he wishes to rescue, every step seems like an eternity, so near and yet so far. He looked at the woman struggling and reminds him of one his partners, mauled and left for dead by one his enemies, she was confined to a wheelchair until later when three zombies broke into her house in the first year of the dead rising. She was found dead and no longer fit for reanimation because of the extensive loss of body parts. The young woman screams again, as one of the undead took a bite here and there. Her flesh are slowly ripped apart, her arms and legs are chewed, large amounts of blood shoots out like a fountain with every mouthful. He hasten his move but every step seems to slow him down a bit. He can feel his heart racing, his breathing become more irregular. He coughs extensively, further slowing him down. He looked at the woman being eaten alive, he looked at her eyes pleading for a rescue. He could see the pain she's experiencing and he seems to feel it too. The ghouls are now gnawing at her stomach and pulling muscle parts and skin. Red blood bubbles up the open wound and flow profusely to the ground. One of the ghouls reached inside her stomach and began pulling something while the others pulled at her now barely visible ribcage. Her eyes shot that look of extreme pain and began moving upwards.

Tears ran down her cheeks as the undead succeeded in breaking open her chest. She breathes her last and her eyes fixed on him. He shouted like a mad man and raised his boomerang high and slash at the nearest ghoul. It hits the arm with a small cut but doesn't damage it as he intended. He realizes the boomerang is no longer sharp enough to inflict terrible wounds. He slowly raised it up again and slashes on the next one. Again no effect. The undead continue eating the young woman's entrails and completely ignored him. He shouts at them again, then raised the boomerang again for another slash.

But the weight of the weapon is now too much for his old arms, he dropped to the ground with a BANG and sprained his arm in the process. His face is turned away from the gore, but he can hear the undead eating, the splashing sounds they they do to her body, and the ripping sound of flesh being torn from her bones. He closed his eyes and try to find the strength within him. He thinks of his comrades who also suffered the same fate. He gained strength from the memory and slowly, he straighten himself up. No way he's going down now he thinks to himself. After some time he was able to sit up. Trying to catch his breath and clearing his mind, he notices that the undead are now gone. Satisfied with the kill, the zombies moved on to their wanderings, walking aimlessly until the feel of hunger sparks again.

He's left alone with what's left of the young woman. Her body stripped most of its flesh, only the head has more skin than her body. Her eyes still fixed on his direction. Once it was so much alive, now it is pale and dead. He cried realizing how he failed her. He shouts and curses at the sky, then at everywhere he sees. He curses the undead and the only person who could have prevented this. He shouts his name long and loud. But no one answered him. Nothing but whistle of the wind.

Then he noticed her eyes moved. The mouth opened up and closed as if to say something, and that may have been if she still has her throat. Her remaining muscles clenches to move what's left of her arms. Her open chest vibrates as if to feel her missing heart and lungs. Noticing his boomerang lying near him, his body shivers at what he must do. Yet he must do it, like he has done a hundred times since the first revival of the dead.

He grabbed the boomerang with his other hand and slash at the head of the reanimated girl. Again and again he slashed until her brains oozes out of her skull. Sure that the girl is already dead, he lumbers again to the highway. Tired, wasted, he walks again hoping to reach the place in his mind still exists. He comforts himself by thinking of having defeated his enemy, a corpse who just reanimated and cries about the woman he failed to save. But there are other people who needs him, and he won't fail them. Again his mind wanders in the past. He thinks of himself jumping from every rooftop, looking out for his city. He thinks of his partners. His friends. He thinks of his cave and the butler who raised him. For a moment he seems to see a signal in the sky.

The man walked on.

- THE END -