This is my first post on here about when I first saw a zombie. It was BY FAR the most terrifying (and confusing) thing in my life. Zombies aren't suppost to exist, how can they? But it appears that all I know about science is wrong and sometimes dead people just don't stay dead.
I can't remember when it was exactly... a couple of years maybe? Well... I was walking on the fell, it was a nice day, very warm, about 23C, so I was wearing a shirt, shorts and a sunhat. I was carrying a WW2 gas mask bag filled with books (Skulduggery Pleasant and The Shining) and a small thermos flask with ice cold orange juice (my favourite... hard to get by now...). As I arrived at the top of the fell, I noticed this smell... a rotten smell that made my gorge rise. I thought some sheep must have died neaby, and a while ago judging by the stench. It even overpowered the less than pleasant smell of low tide being blown inland by the breeze. I walked around trying to see what the source of the smell was, but I couln't find anything, not even a tuft of wool. I was starting to get a bit freaked out now (I'm easily spooked, a fact that I'm sure helped me survive) so I took my i-pod headphones off so I could hear what was going on around me, and I heard this groaning noise, like someone was injured, behind me. I turned around and I saw this person a couple of hundred yards away looking a little worse for wear, clothes torn and they were staggering around like they were drunk. It looked at me and took a step forwards, its foot going into a rabbit hole and making it fall flat on its face. It moved, but didn't get up.
I walked towards it, thinking it was someone who was hurt and needed help, but as I got closer the smell became unbearable and I had to stop several times to try and calm my stomache. Finally, when I was about 5 yards away, it got to its feet. I was close enough now to see that it was a boy, I'd say about 19, 20 years old? He was the typical tourist, ready for a walk on the Cumbrian Fells. He was wearing a red berghaus jacket, zipped all the way to the top, a karrimore ruksack with all chest straps done up, he was even wearing water proof trousers. Had he not looked like something from Stephen King's imagination I may have thought something along the lines of: "Where does he think he is? Siberia?!" But I was too shocked to think of anything sarcastic. He stood there for about 15 seconds, then his arm fell off to the ground.
I couldn't belive what I was seeing. This person. His grey skin, eyes that were blood shot and soulless, the expressionless face, the blood that poured down his left side from his shoulder. He didn't even seem to notice that his arm lay on the grass at his feet. I heard about all these "zombies" from my friends, but I didn't belive them, I thought they were being stupid, so I stood staring at it for another few seconds, while I gathered my thoughts and tried to keep down my breakfast.
As took a step towards me my nerve broke. I turned on my heel and sped down the hill, probably too fast for safety. I vaulted walls and bashed through hedges, my bare legs scratched and stung as I battles my way through nettles, never stopping, never looking back, never thinking of what I was running from, I let my fear guide me until the fell was far behind. As I slowed I let my mind wander to what I had just seen. That boy- that demon- was like nothing I had ever seen. You'd think a lifetime of horror films and scary novels would prepare you for seeing the real thing, but it's not the same. There was no makeup, no CGI involved, it was 110% real. The face, the rotting flesh, the stench, the way the move that seems to be so slow, so sure that they don't need to run, so convinced that if they don't get you someone else will (at this point I'd never heard of Runners, thank God that walker wasn't one). You run for your life and for the right to a final death, but they just stumble after you, never stopping, never eating, never sleeping, waiting for you to let your guard down. Nothing prepares you for that.
But, as I said, that was years ago. I'm faster now, and I know my enemy. I sleep in trees because they never look up and, although I'll never stop missing my old friends and family, I'm quite happy with the new friends I have collected. The friends I have now are much more real than any friends I have ever had before. Many times we have saved eachother's lives, and even in the most extreme circumstances (like a zombie uprising) we still have a laugh.