RomeroPilato's Page

They tell me I’m dead. The walking, stalking, living dead. But that’s a misnomer. Yes, my pulse no longer carries a beat. And my lungs no longer function. But I’m NOT dead. Not in the absolute definition of the word: meaning without life.  In fact, I am bursting with life.   

I find it fascinating how life works.  Even after death. I’ve been dead for a long time, yet I still walk. I still talk, and most certainly, I still hunger. I hunger not just for the taste of warm flesh, but also…

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(This story contains sensitive subject matter)

 

Three days ago Imogen celebrated her fourteenth birthday.  Today will be her deathday.  A death caused by her own hands.  She's attempted suicide twice before and hopes the third time will be the charm.   She

is on her bed writing her suicide note.



Why would someone so young, blessed with an extraordinarily creative mind , a compassionate

loving heart and has a father that loves her more than life itself…

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Snow is falling on the ground and it's inhumanely cold. There's not soul

to be seen outside.   Not even the soulless known as the living dead

are walking around.  One of the undead have taken refuge in a house on

the edge of suburbia.  The house is not spectacular but its above

standard.  The undead man curiously walks through the place room by

room.



After going through most of the house the undead man ends up in the basement.  It bears an uncanny resemblance… Continue

(Warning: contains sensitive subject matter and strong language)

How did the end begin? The end of the world as we knew it. Some say that the end was a virulent bug that escaped out of some random research facility. Others say that the end was something in the water or rage inducing waves emitted from cell phones. And then there are those that would swear

that the end was a scathing punishment from God. But I know the…

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The dead have no rights
The thought of it keeps a zombie up nights :(