Friday, October 23, 2015

TO BE, OR NOT TO BE A GYPSY

AUGUST 25TH, 2013
It’s Paul.
 I call it a safe house, some call it ‘The Hospital’ still, and some even call it Hell. Either way, we seem to be stuck here. A lot has happened, and there’s some things I don’t want on this…. Tablet thing Luna gave me. She gave us all one. She wants us to put everything we have so far on this device. And, everything we post in the future as well. Something about creating a map for the future… or something. However.. there are other things. More personal things that I’d rather not place here. I’ll have to find somewhere else for that.
                She also wants us to post in our own words. She doesn’t want us to post for each other. She’s worried that there will be a he said she said argument at some point, and things will just be fucked. That’ll never work. Look at Tree John. He hates to post! Let me get to whats happened in the last month or so.
                We were taken from the hospital grounds. We were kept unclothed and blindfolded for at least 6 hours. In that time, I felt many things. Coldness, heat, sounds of beeping and what not. I heard zombies and rabid animals, probably turned zombie too. I thought many things as we were carted around, blindfolded. There were times where I could hear voices echoing off the walls of what seemed like a great cavern, and then.. no echo at all.
                Finally, our eyes were set free. Tree John and I were in a room. It was entirely blue. There was a 5 or 6 foot tall, full length mirror on the wall opposite us. We were still naked, but laid out before us were a set of clothes neatly folded on a table. It was bizarre dressing in front of Tree John like that. The floor and ceiling were even painted blue. Then, the sound of a door handle broke the eerie silence.
                In walked one of the Reds. Like I mentioned before, they were big men. Fire red hair and kind eyes. Huge hands held a brown canvas bag, and the other an e-cig. He puffed a few times, and placed the bag on the table. “I don’t really like that she calls us, THE REDS.” He took another puff. “In this bag you’ll find everything you’ll need to become a Gypsy. Strength in numbers…. Blah blah blah.” Tree John and I looked at each other. “Look guys.” Red spoke. “Things are about to change for you ok? Lots of things. It’s really important that you listen to Luna. She’s smart and she’ll take care of you. You just gotta… fight… you know?” There was an awkward silence in the blue room. “Anyway, I’ll give you boys a few minutes to figure this out. I’m not allowed to say anything but..” Then Red mouthed… “THE BAG GOES ON THE HEAD” He pointed at the bag on the table, then to his head multiple times. “Got it? Good. Good luck.” Then he drew another puff from his sweet smelling e-cig, and left the room. We heard 4 very loud LOCK LOCK LOCK LOCK from the other side of the door. We were locked in.
                “Well” said Tree John. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Nothin’ else to do eh?” We turned over the bag and out fell two Rambo style knives, zip ties, and several canvas bags, inside out, with a smiley faces painted on them. We looked at each other. I turned my canvas bag inside out immediately to find the same smiley face painted on it.
                “Could it be?” I said to Tree John. “Are we to be accepted as part of the Gypsy Group? You know… from the books?” I was dumbfounded. Tree John stood there with a confused look. I explained as best I could, about the Gypsy Group from my books. What they were, how they hunted, and killed. Where they got their funds from. Everything I knew, was from reading Books one and two. I explained to him that upon meeting a zombie, in most cases, they let the zombies live. But only to take its riches and place a smiley faced bag over its head. “It sends a message Tree!” I was excited and nervous at the same time. I felt honored and terrified. After all, we were just stripped naked, blindfolded and kidnapped. Tree John spoke. “So….. Just because, they’re gonna let us…. Join? Something isn’t right Paul.” He had a point. That’s when we heard the unmistakable sound of zombie, come from behind the wall with the full length mirror.
                “Fuck.” Tree John took initiative and grabbed both knives, and tossed me one. “Do you think we’re about to get initiated?” “I don’t know. Stay alive brother.” “Got a game plan?” “Um….. shit… Are we supposed to bag zombies? What the Fuck man!?!” Tree John was getting excited and confused, just as I was. And just as expected. There were zombies. The mirror on the wall was just a revolving door. It spun and was pushed open by the most vile zombies I had seen since arriving on the east coast from the UK. It was 4… no, 5 zombies total that drug themselves in to the room. Their skin was literally falling off their bodies. I saw rib cages, and exposed leg bones. These zombies were attacked by something. I just couldn’t tell if it was before or after they turned. Black ooze dripped from their face and open wounds, falling onto the blue floor. Bloody hands scraped across the blue walls with black and red traces of blood. “FUCK FUCK!” Tree John leaped on top of the table and held his bag open. “Fuck man! I’ve only killed zombies before, never put bags on their heads! What do we do?” It was time to get creative.          
                “Quick, get off the table!” I screamed at Tree John. He jumped down and took a battle stance. “Help me take out at least two of these bitches and we’ll decide what to do next.. ready?!?” We took the first two that lunged. I stabbed hard and downward on the skull of the first to die. Its head crumbled almost like an egg shell, where black ooze and brain seeped and spilled out all over the blue floor. Tree John sliced and sliced at the face and neck of his dead attacker. First opening gaping holes in the face, then exposing bone through the throat where the zombies head eventually snapped off and flew across the room. Blood an ooze shot from the neck and bodies, making the floor slippery. “Keep your footing!!” I screamed. The oncoming zombies slipped and stumbled over each other, reaching for us, belting out the hollow hissing moans we all know so well. “Grab the other end!” We picked up the table and used it as a wall, pushing the dead back against the wall with the mirror. There were only three left now. And I could feel the fatigue rush in. The floor was slippery, my hands were covered in blood and ooze, and I realized.. I was out of shape. We pushed the zombies back to the wall and wedged one end of the table in the ajar door, shattering the glass of the mirror. The zombies were stuck as Tree John and I pushed the other end of the table against the wall as hard as we could. “Bag’em!” Tree John broke away for a split second and grabbed the canvas bags. He fumbled, but placed them over the heads of the zombies who were struggling to get free, but were stuck. Once the bags were placed, I could let the table go.
                We stood back and watched in awe. The zombies, though still hungry, smelly, and screaming for death, were …… blind. They held their arms out and shuffled around in the room, occasionally slipping and falling. Then, getting back up. I eventually was able to put zip ties on their wrists. Some in front. Some behind, depending on the struggle the dead gave us. “What do we do now?” Tree John asked. I looked around at the mess we had made. The blood and ooze that splattered and smeared itself all over the room. The fresh new clothes we had that were now covered in zombie slop, and the truly odd sight of witnessing a Gypsy Group event. The bags were just the right touch. The stench was getting to us though. We tried the door that Red walked out, but it was still locked. So, we stepped over the carcasses of the dead and walked like we were invisible around the surviving 3, toward the dark opening that used to be a mirror on a wall.
                It was a long, dark hallway. At the end was a blinking red light. “Ready?” I said to Tree John. “Let’s go.” The blinking red light exposed what looked a dead end, brick wall. The hallway was very long. Much longer than I judged. Then, the light stopped blinking. We stopped dead in our tracks. In the darkness, we heard a door creek open, then closed. Then just like before, the red light began blinking again. But against the brick wall, revealed the silhouette of a man with what appeared to be… rabbit ears. 

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