Last Letter (AKA George Romero is God) Working Title

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man take the time to write one last letter explaining how it all went to shit.

Submitted: September 02, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 02, 2014

A A A

A A A


As a species, man is pretty fucking stupid. We created god to explain the mysteries of the world we fail to understand only to destroy god once we created science to explain that there are no real mysteries. Only to replace him; recreate god in the image of ourselves. Thinking, somehow, that we know better. But to me the real god, the real profit of what was to become the future of mankind is/was George Romero.

Romero, unbeknownst to him, had seen what lay ahead. How, in our hurry to play in god’s playground, we failed to ask ourselves if that is what we should be doing. Because even god has fucked up now and again. But when god fucks up, well, those fuck ups are on a huge scale.

It started like most things start: with some Dr. Frankenstein-wannabe with (what else?) a God complex and supposed good intentions. But before anyone knew what they had, they let it slip through their fingers; let their new little creation escape into an unexpecting world to create all sorts of havoc. Be damned us all. It didn’t take long for the world to descend into chaos; for us as a species to turn on ourselves when confronted with things that couldn’t be controlled. And the world as we knew it came to a grinding halt in little more than three weeks.

The first cases showed up in Los Angeles and spread quickly up and down the West Coast. By that point it was safe to say the cat was out of the proverbial bag. In just under a week the entire western half of the United States was under military quarantine. But by then it was already too late. As new cases were appearing in Canada and Mexico.

The Event --as termed by the media, because we all know how the media needs their buzzwords, even though they stole said name from an unnamed politico that was interviewed-- was spreading like a wildfire on a windy day. Literally devouring everyone in its path turning major cities into blood baths. With the rural towns not faring any better.  By the end of the “Event’s” second week it had stretched all the way to the Mississippi River. The stories that came out of the infected areas --no matter how hard the military and government tried to sequester any and all information--were almost unbelievable. The recently deceased had risen and were now walking the Earth. Attacking the living. Feeding upon their flesh. Turning those that were bit turned into…well, with a lack of a better word: a zombie.

What? Don’t believe me? Well, there just so happens to be a number of them right outside the door I have barricaded. Unfortunately not a very strong door. However it has bought me a little breathing room at least. And with a whopping six shells left for my twelve gauge, a little breathing room goes a long way.

But I digress.

If we thought we had it bad, the infection or event or whatever you wanted to call it tore through the third world unstoppable. Not long after that it appeared in Europe and Asia. The world is now truly condemned by it’s own stupidity. No more twelve dollars lattés. No more lawsuits. No more Prozac pushing doctors. No more gun-toting hip gangster douche-bag wannabes, and sure as fuck no more of the L. Ron Hubbard’s Hollywood clones. All flushed away; down the drain to gag and choke on life’s own shit.

Yesterday all communications from TV, radio, internet, went off line. The phone systems went days ago. Like a whisper in the night. One moment you had them, then nothing. Nothing more to say. Nothing more to hear except gunfire and hungry growls from once loved ones. But if you’re reading this you know that already.

Is there anyone left to read this? Hell, does it even matter?

They’re getting closer now. The wooden door frame starting to crack and splinter; being pushed in by the hungry. Time to make a choice: take out five and use the last for me? or, just say fuck it and end  it now?

Either way it looks like I’m on today’s menu.

Like I said: George Romero is God.


© Copyright 2020 Paul Dabrowski. All rights reserved.

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