I was sitting in my appartment, watching CNN when suddenly one of the fax machines started spewing papers. The newscasters looked at the papers, them just stared at each other, then the cameras. "is this a prank?" asked the girl. "No," the man said. "this was faxed to us from the presidents office." They turned and looked at us, and I saw one thing you never want to see in the eyes of people reporting your news: Fear. The girl ran off screen, and the man said, his voice shaking, "we have just received reports of infect humans turning on their fellows and..and..devouring them alive. We recommend that you stay indoors, as the streets will be full of infected escapees from Camp Teresa and newly turned victims. It appears that people who have been bitten will turn into more of these creatures, and spread even farther. If you find yourself attacked by these creatures, shoot them in the head, or decapitate them. All other organs seem to be unimportant, and the brain is controling them. Please arm yourself, keep plenty of food and ammo, and keep a radio handy. Please remain calm!"
Sunddenly, I hear screams in the back of the studio. The reporter turns to look, then falls to his knees. A person comes running onto the set, and tackles him. He bites the reporters arm, then rips out his throat and begins to feed upon him. Another runner attacks the fallen reporer, then a hoard of walking dead break in. On of them turns toward the camera man, and rushes him. The camera man drops the camera and runs away. Static, then the TV tuns blue. I change the channels, but all of the other channels have the same blue screen.
"nice prank, guys. Very elaborate. Showy, and somehow you managed to hack the TV system. Nice." I dont bealive that this is really happening, until I hear the screams from below. I rush to the door, pausing to grab my magnum revolver, loaded with illegal shells, designed to blow flesh to bits. My plan was that if anyone broke in, i would shoot them in the nuts with it, then call the cops as they moan in pain on the floor. Now, i plan to use it on what I think is a burglar or rapist in the room below. I open the door and look down the stairs. The screams have stopped. I procceed slowly down the stairs, looking into the appartment below. Blood stains the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Foot prints lead to the living room, along with a pair of what seem to be boots dragged slowly along the floor. Li creep the the living room and see hell on earth.
The girl that lives-lived-in the room below me is on the floor, dead. Her shirt is ripped open, no, torn open. A man sits next to the body, apparently grabbing her dead body."Sic twisted bastard." I shoot him the the chest, the rounds blowing a hole stratght throungh bone and muscle. I can see the face of the poor kid. She was only 19. she said, working for a degree in boilogical-something or other in colledge. I lean on the doorframe, and pull out the my cell. I call 911, but no ring. No service. strange. I look back to the murder in front of ma and drop the phone as the man walks toward me. His shirt is stained red. I can now see the girl, and her chest has been ripped open, and feasted upon. I realize that the man-no, the Zed-is trying to moan, but his lungs have no air. I realize that the newcasters where not trying to prank me, but actually warning me. I take aim at the Zed and blow his head off his shoulders. The body topples over, not spweing blood, because the heart no longer beats. I make sure not to get the blood on me, then walk over to the girl. Her eyes are closed. I stand over her body, and begin to pray. Its funny, I know, but I am a preist. Just a preist for a small church, not a big one, but I still can make holy water and stuff if needed. I open my eyes, and see that she is lloking back at me. She is not quite dead yet, but will soon pass. Her final words, just a whisper, pass her lips. two sentences. "kill me." Is the first. I nod and aim at her head. Her final words, "thank you" are spoken. The light leaves her eyes, then I fire into her skull.
I run back into my room, and a Light appears before my eyes. God speaks to me, then the light leaves. I gather all of the the ammo I have, then walk outside. A pile of guns and ammuniton is on the streets. I gather them, then begin to walk down the road, killing all the Zed i see. I was given a mission. As a preist, my job was to save as many souls from the eternal fire as I could. Now my job is to save as many as I can from the walking dead.
Im not your average Priest. I wear leather jackets and jeans during my sermons, listen to heavy rock, swear quite often, and carry a pistol in my pocket at all times. But one thing is for sure-Im preaching to the masses, even if the masses are undead and my words are bullets.