It was a dull business, putting the severed parts into the embalming vat, then removing the neat little things like onion rings or potstickers. It made one hungry, kind of. I was working on a vat of fingers and ears at the time of the accident. All I had intended to do was develop two photographs in the liquid - though I did know that I should have used gloves, I never expected the effect the fluid would have on a living human body. At worst, I worried of a rash. I dipped the first paper gingerly, watching the picture form upon it. It was a young woman at the instant of her death. I had just finished a few of her fingers, and was going to proceed with her torso. It was all a part of my job to determine the cause of death, as well as preserve the body, even in the dismantled state of this unfortunate young woman's. It was clearly a murder. A large man in a dark coat was holding a knife above her in the photograph, which was still only partially developed. Impatiently, I pulled the photograph out to start the second dipping, but in doing so I splashed a rather large amount of the vile, green embalming fluid onto my hand. Immediately it began to form a blue foam on my skin at it ate it away. I gasped, and ran to the sink to wash it off. It appeared to leave only a dark, sickly area on my skin, but still I was worried at the continuous tingling, so I rushed upstairs to ask my dad about it. He told me that I have no need to worry, but I was beginning to feel quite sick. I felt my knees weaken and give out, and I could hear my dad telling me to quit being melodramatic, but it was as though his voice was far away. As I collapsed to the floor I could hear his hurried footsteps and his "Oh no, no! Are you alright, Lil? Wake up!"
I awoke to a greyish blue haze, it seemed. I realized as I blinked away the teary grogginess, though, that it was my eyes that caused the slightly dark tint. It looked somehow like I had contacts in my eyes that tinted the world ever so slightly. My vision was perfect, though - sharper that I had imagined possible. I stood up, relieved that I had not suffered any bad effects from the fluid spill. However, as I looked out the window, I could not fathom the scene before my eyes. People running around frantically, running for their lives. Were they people? Some were, but some others looked different. Sickly pale, pinkish skin, almost glowing, bruises in places, and dark eyes, bloodshot from what I could see. And they were chasing the normal-looking people. And... Eating them! My heart began to race in terror (although my heart did feel a bit odd). I ran for the nearest closet in which to hide, but as I did, two "weird-looking" people burst through the door. In blind terror I ran through the door, barely making it out of their grasp, I thought. Those dark, bloodshot eyes... Were these people monsters? Zombies? I ran about looking for somewhere to hide, twice almost being caught by the infernal things. I ran around a corner, thinking I could catch my breath for a moment, but suddenly one of them was right in front of me. I closed my eyes and cowered, waiting for death to encircle me, but to my surprise the creature just ran past me, only acknowledging my presence for a second. I started to come to the realization that they were not paying any attention to me, in fact, they were nodding at me as they passed. I looked at my reflection in a mirror...
Samantha, Becca, Dustin, and I sipped our drinks in the dark corner of the local bar. I had a small glass of Scotch, over which I peered with my dark, bloodshot eyes at a group of young women - they were untransformed. I was very hungry, although this was not surprising, as in my changed state, I was usually hungry. I whispered to Becca that I was going to go pick off a couple of the girls. Two of them walked into the girls' bathroom; I stalked behind them in the shadows. They chattered in front of the mirrors, then I sprang upon them. I tore up their flesh and feasted until I was quite satisfied. They awoke and stood back up shakily, bleary eyed and with the color draining from their skin, as I was leaving. Gaily my friends and I walked around the bar, talking to other transformed people, disguised to the untransformed ones, gradually and inconspicuously spreading our virus.
I walked into my new dwelling, which had a strange stillness to it. I was polishing off the congealed and dried blood of the previous owners from the mirror in the bathroom as I observed out the window a transformed man gnawing on the carcass of a dead deer.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
So many times throughout human history have we encountered the dilemma regarding the relative validities of the questions "Why?" and "Why not?" Generally the two result in conflicting answers. I have been a lifelong atheist, and have spent a lot of time in my short life contemplating why I do not subscribe to the very popular beliefs in deities. Immediately I think, "It is because I actually think about things." That is not a sufficient answer, though, because I, in fact, avoid thinking about the one question Christians ask that atheists cannot counter: "Why not?" There are no reasons an omnipotent deity would exist, and there are also no reasons it would not exist. The scientific method completely negates the usefulness of the question "Why not?", citing that flawed conclusions are drawn because one is putting the burden of proof not upon the party making the assertion, but upon the audience to the assertion, and because one would be drawing said conclusion, then looking for evidence to support it, rather than the opposite. It makes sense to me that this is the most unbiased way of looking at an issue, but I was raised with the current scientific method. Who is to say that making an assertion, then looking for proof is invalid? On the larger scale, what implications does this have on the doctrine "innocent until proven guilty"? For a moment try to force your mind to assume all things are true. (I tried doing this in the shower this morning and I tripped some serious balls.) Personally, I find that it goes completely against the grain of my mind. naturally I am someone who asks "Why?" I am a "Why?" person, I suppose. I've met many "Why not?" people though, and have always assumed them to be simple-minded and less intelligent, but is that really the case? Or is it I who am simple-minded, only able to comprehend the skeptical side of things, bogged down by looking to justify my reality with proof? To be continued...
Monday, November 15, 2010
The feelings associated with beginning this writing endeavor are rather odd. As this stream or information we call the internet penetrates into my neurons, exposing the things I say in the privacy of my own mind, I feel a bit disoriented. All the folds and electric firings that are my brain, which is the headquarters of my mind, can be laid out on a glass display table in the form of a touch screen for all to examine. However, to my own surprise, I do not feel the need to "filter" what I say in order to portray the most flattering light of my personality. Maybe this is what they mean by "self-esteem" - the ability to know that there is value to what you say regardless of whether an audience pays any attention to it or not.