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Friday 19 November 2010

The moment I realised I'm going to hell

Zombie outbreaks are hard enough.  Zombie outbreaks in 1911 are something completely different.  They've not had the luxury of movies telling us exactly what can happen and they certainly don't have any contigency plans for when the dead rise from their graves.  Even so, Red Dead Redemption's latest DLC entitled 'Undead Nightmare' releases a zombie plague upon the citizens of the American West to see what'll happen.  Within no time at all, long-dead relatives are ripping the flesh of their once loved ones with everyone blaming the immigrants, Jews, God and anyone else they seem to take a disliking to that day.  Everyone is turning on each other, supplies are low, and the constant threat of death has everyone a little on edge.  It doesn't take long for the number of survivors to dwindle with each passing day, which is where my story starts.
Upon hearing about a legendary horse, I hopped upon my soon-to-be-redundant steed and made way for Perdido to start the hunt.  It wasn't too long ago since I'd saved a town from being overrun, so my ammo was running a bit low.  Imagine my suprise when I found a camp up ahead with a box full of ammo.  Now the guy had just managed to find some food, and was just remarking on how lucky he was that he hadn't gone insane yet and politely asked if i wanted to sit for a while and share some food.  Silently, I made my way past and opened the box of ammo and took everything I could find.  Understandably, the guy saw this breach of trust and took it upon himself to kill me and take back his supplies.  Since I'd been anticipating a horse appearing at any minute, my lasso was the 'weapon' I had equipped and within seconds I had the guy disarmed and hogtied.  He started begging for mercy and freedom, but I ignored everything he said while lifting him on my back and carrying a way out near a crowd of zombies.  Reaching into my pack, I found a bottle of undead bait, threw it on the ground quite close to the guy and watched as some of the undead noticed the intriguing smell.  I whistled for my horse and rode off away from the screams and sobbing.
I've shot my own horse so I could sell its skin.  I've lassoed nuns and dropped them onto train tracks.  I've killed men while their spouses watched.  However, this act of torture is the act I'm pretty sure Satan is going to remind me about when he's setting up my room in the underworld.