An Undead Kind of Life

Hello, world. Welcome to my thoughts. They are all that’s really left of me now. I have been led to believe that my name is Harold. I remain skeptical given the circumstance. The only memento of my previous life lies in the name tag and lab coat I’ve been wearing. The only reason I am skeptical but not suspicious is I tried to change my clothes once, but I couldn’t remember how. Instead, I ate some of the fabric. I never knew cotton tasted like dirt. Most things taste like dirt anymore, except for blood and brains. I fear I’ve become a vampire. Oddly enough on that note, brains seem to taste like chicken. Chicken tastes like dirt. Somebody is playing a cruel joke. Nevertheless, however you are hearing this, take note that I did at one point try to write it down. Unfortunately, I ate the pen. It too tasted like dirt. The world is now a very dirt-y place. Bleh.

Before I begin, let me clarify how little I remember. What I did know, I tend to forget. What little I learn, I never seem to remember. With that said, the first time I opened my eyes I woke up in a pool of red sticky liquid that had long since dried. It smelled of roses. I wondered what red substance could possibly smell like roses, but the only thing I could think of was blood. If the smell couldn’t help me, perhaps the taste would. I dipped my finger, which now looked blemished and gray, into the crusty pool and licked my fingertip. Strangely it tasted like tuna; Tuna tasting similar to chicken in the way that it’s edible, but not as desirable. I felt like there should have been a coppery taste there. I know because since then I have licked a lot of copper. I seem to lick a lot of things anymore. Though even copper tastes like dirt. One day, I hope to expand my diet beyond blood and brains. Still as of this moment, I have had no success.

Ahem, allow me to get back on track. My mind wanders constantly. This is not that different from my body, because my body is always wandering, too. It should come as no surprise that is exactly what I did next. After I licked some of the fake blood, I wandered off to find who makes this sensational new tuna tasting liquid candy. Perhaps I could buy some from a local store. I paid almost no attention to my surroundings. From what I did notice, the sun was up and the streets were empty. The rumbling in my stomach told me I needed to focus on getting something to eat. The tuna tasting blood was imprinted on my mind, and I could think of very little else. So I marched, or I think stumbled is a better word for it. I must have suffered a serious injury during my sleep, because I still cannot move the way I want to.

As I wandered through these empty streets in search of a store, I did hear a few voices. Mostly consisting of “Uhhnnnnnn” and “Braaaainnns” which had a bit of an erotic effect on me. Erotic in a mentally stimulating way, because ‘down there’ doesn’t seem to work anymore either. I still do not know the why of any of these things. I eventually found my way to a store that had the lights on. Every other store appeared to be deserted. I knocked on the door. In reflection, I think it was less of a knock, and more of a bang. I make that clear because I regret what happens next.

The door did open, and there was a woman peaking through. She immediately tried to shut the door on me. I was appalled by this behavior and threw my arm in to stop the door from closing. The result was entirely unexpected. It must have been an extremely sharp door because it severed my arm from my torso. The lady screamed, the door shut, and my arm fell on her store steps. I picked my arm up and looked at it thoughtfully. Curiously, I decided to take a bite. I have always heard that humans taste like chicken. Once I got through the skin, the insides were actually quite delicious. However, I did not really want to eat my own arm. At this point, I tried to re-attach it. I tried to stick the arm firmly into where it used to be, but alas, I had no luck. I would try to find some other way later.

Once I got over the loss of my arm, I felt extremely angry. I was -very- hungry, and that lady was -very- rude. Perhaps there was another way into the store, I thought. Luck would have it that there were windows. Once she calmed down and I explained to her that I was only trying to get something to eat, perhaps we could do business civilly. I busted her window. I feel like she deserved it at this point. I crawled through the opening, and the glass that cut me bore no pain. Much like the loss of my arm, I barely seemed to notice anything painful was ocuring. I considered myself to be a superhero for awhile after that. It wasn’t until I got hooked on blood and brains that I considered vampire also as a possibility.

The lady screamed even more. I tried to explain that all I wanted was some of the new tuna tasting blood, but she only became more terrified. This resulted in a chase. I didn’t feel like looking through the aisles to find it myself, rather, I wanted it now. I humored her chase. She took flight into the back of the store, so I followed as best I could. The back of the store was dark and I felt more calm there. It seemed like the place where they kept packets of that fake blood; I could smell it. I looked around everywhere, but I could not find it. So I followed her again. The closer I got, the more random the objects were that she threw at me.

First came a mop. The wet threads swashed in my face and I swallowed some of the sewage like water. I felt like I had to vomit. So I did vomit. A torrent of green fluid splattered across the room. The things it had touched began to burn and wither. I couldn’t believe I had developed super puke. That was definitely one of the higher points of my new life.

Then she threw the canned goods. Silly aluminum things that bounced off of my body. This lady surely was not a smart person. After all, I busted her window and climbed through the glass, how could cans stop me?

Next she threw a chair. The wooden pegs struck me in the skull and stuck there. I admitted to myself that she was a little clever. I must have looked like a bull writhing about as I struggled to remove the nuisance on my head. I was unable to so I simply pressed on.

I was getting really pissed off. If you’ve felt like you were a large swarm of bees just calmly minding your own business while looking for honey, then some random person came up to your home with a bat, and smashed it, you know exactly how I felt. Was what I really wanted so unreasonable a request?

I followed her through the backdoor. She was a somewhat chubby lady, I noted, and watched her as she tried to scale the fence. I feel like I should have laughed, but I did not remember how. I thought, at that moment, that becoming a superhero was not worth being senile. I could be extremely old, though, for lack of knowing exactly how old I am. Oh, the story. Right, well I managed to yank her down from the fence. She started to cry but I had no grasp of sympathy anymore. I could smell the fake blood as if it were on, or in her. I was determined to find it. Then, something mysterious happened. It probably isn’t as mysterious to you, as it was to me when it did happen, but I did something unexpected. I ate her. I had heard of some tribe or other that was into cannibalism, so I thought, for awhile, perhaps I’d find my heritage. Putting thought aside, I feasted upon her remains, ripping her arm off piece by piece, I decided to leave one in tact. Later I tried to duct tape her arm to my shoulder, but I also ate the duct tape. The tape tasted like dirt. I set off in search of something new again. Maybe one day I’ll find out what I really am.