A wave of terror rushed over him as he quickly scanned the long passageways to his left and right. “This isn’t real. Zombies don’t exist”, he thought, as his mind began to flash gory scenes from one movie after another of undead creatures gnawing on limbs and feasting on entrails. As a self-proclaimed horror-movie aficionado, he knew the difference between a zombie attack victim and a victim of a serial killer. Serial killers don’t eat people, they kill for sport. Real or not, he was looking at a body laying in a pool of blood, partially dried by the sun, that had been eaten. EATEN.
It didn’t take long to convince himself that all the theories of scientifically engineered viruses were not only probable, but were now a reality. His mind began racing as he drew upon his experience as an avid spectator in zombie apocalypses. Surely this counted as preparatory training. He knew what to do. He needed a weapon - preferably something sharp that could pierce the skull - and layers of clothing to keep their rotting teeth from penetrating his flesh. His mind raced faster and faster as he realized he had none of these things and there were no doors nearby that spawned weapons or overcoats like in the movies. He panicked as he continued to scan the passageways left and right, left and right, until he looked down upon the body again and saw something else. Something he had missed in his haste to prepare for a battle with an army of the undead. There were no signs of a struggle. The man’s clothes were clean, his cheap gift-shop Panama hat was still resting on his head, and the entire left side of his body was still in-tact. No bites, no blood, no bruises, no scratches. Nothing. Even the right side wasn’t so bad now that he had looked closer. It was as if it had been raked by a huge cheese grater. Disgusting, yes, but there weren’t organs laying on the floor or severed limbs laying about. “Zombies”, he said in a mocking tone to himself. “Fuck sakes, man. Calm down. There’s an explanation for this.”
He regained his composure as the thought of having to actually face a zombie was erased. He had a new appreciation for the horrified people on screen, screaming and running for their lives now as well. “ Shit. I guess I’d freak out too”, he thought, as he realized he wasn’t as brave or strategically gifted in the art of apocalyptic war as he once thought. Shrugging off the shame of being so afraid, as if it never happened, it was now time to play detective; for he had no shortage of experience in that arena. He had seen countless movies and knew that he now had to be meticulous and methodical as he further investigated the scene. Yes, this was much more in his wheelhouse. He wasn’t afraid. It was just adrenaline, and adrenaline makes you do stupid things. He was just bracing for battle. Yes. That’s what it was. If he had actually found that weapon, things would have been much different. He’d clear that ship easily.
.....
.
Your turn.
(I took out “nude” because it didn’t fit my narrative, and I hope ... not yours)
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