That guy… You see him all the time. He’s not a very sophisticated guy, he’s got a pick-up truck. This probably translates to his need for compensation due to his winky being three sizes too small. He wears a button down flannel shirt with gravy stains. His favorite band is heard all the time on his police scanner. This is your typical human being. Not much to look at, not very complicated; certainly many things left unexplained, but we’ll ignore that, just as long as we’ve got television. Curse those people who are different from us, they say. They say it and it pleases them and they go on with their charted little lives. Until the bite.
Taste now my story, it is very delicious. It begins with a parasite. No, don’t leave me to chuckle, not the parasitic human I mentioned earlier. This one much smaller! A tiny microscopic organism that is just waiting to take you for a ride. Like many objects, they travel by way of mosquito; taken in like a bittersweet drink of nectar, rubbing their hands in anticipation. They will control us.
This microscopic parasitic creature awaits until it’s blood-sucking-mobile finds a human arm, or more suitable, a neck, to land on. Inserting it’s thin tube-like mouth into the skin of the human, the mosquito begins feeding, and our friend, Mr. Sickness, collects his luggage and departs. The mosquito is slapped, destroyed, and Mr. Sickness is long gone, speeding through the veins of the human. Life goes on, more television is watched.
This parasite, you see, Mr. Sickness, is not your typical disease. Mr. Sickness is straight out of what was once fantasy horror, for Mr. Sickness causes Zombism.
The human gets very ill. In two days time, the weak human dies. His thoughts transferred into the Ether, and his friends and relatives claim he is somewhere better. While they are crying, Mr. Sickness is getting ready for his big debut.
Like the end of most movies, the human’s heart begins beating. Claimed to be dead, this could only be a miracle. This is God’s work, it is! Joy and happiness emit from those gathering, and the doctors come back from their breaks. Our human is alive after death!
His eyes open, somewhat. In fact, one only opens halfway, the other opens much too far. His eyes red and black, twitching like a spider spinning silk. Violent spasms throw the human into seizures of anger and rage. Noises crawl from his throat like a song of sufferers. The human just bit through his tongue. Tubes and medical machinery flail as his arms do. His friends and family scream and run away. No sedatives stop the rage. No words calm the man, for the man is not there. Mr. Sickness is in the front seat now.
Chemicals from the brain, the very essence of a human’s attitude, overflow the blood. Brain dead and resurrected, the human thrives like a blindly angered beast. After being kept locked away for several hours, the human finally tires, and dies, one last time. Mr. Sickness performed very well for a young strain. It won’t be long before the entire Sickness family goes to work.
It won’t be long now before the Zombies rise. It has long been time for a human filtration system. Weed through, undead. Screen them all. Leave only the best.
What is this all about?
Remember, the most delicious brains are those that aren’t as developed.