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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1752098-Zombie-kill-of-week
Rated: 18+ · Other · Action/Adventure · #1752098
About an encounter, and an ultimate overcoming of an attacker.
I was struggling with my axe when i first caught a glimpse of the person moving towards me.  Well its not a person anymore, more of a thing.  When i finally managed to get my axe free, a little blood and brain matter had flung up, landing on my face, i slowly wiped it off and slung it to the ground.  I had barely gotten turned around in time before the creature was upon me.  Grunting kind of like a hungry pig who's overly excited for the garbage being dumped in the dirt covered trough for him to, more than willingly, chow down on.  Only now, in reality, that smelly, muddy, hungry pig is a stark raving mad, blood drenched, flesh craving walking corpse.
This all started not more than seventy-two hours ago, at least widespread anyway.  At first they described it as hyperdelusional, uberpsychotic, even a possible new form of rabies.  Truth is, they don't know.  The president hasn't been seen for days, top political, corporate, and overly wealthy have been escaping to private islands to escape their horribly tragic, yet somewhat laughable demise.  But lets face it, in this situation, the here and now, shit is going down.  The President? Wealth?  The president better have his act together because in a time like this, political pull is not going to help drive your ax deep inside the forehead of the deranged attacker.
I swung my ax without enough time to get a proper grip and footing to get my desired effect.  My hands were too close, the wrong foot was forward, I felt like a cheerleader swinging a baseball bat for the first time, but i did make contact.  As i swung around a bloody arm jolted up, knocking the ax to an angle, wedging the blade into the skull.  I tried desperately to pull the ax back but couldn't, as the once human in front of me continued to attempt to attack. 
Grabbing the ax with the long handle had been a good idea, so had grabbing the sword, the five pound sledge hammer, leaving the only gun behind was a really bad idea, not wanting to create any loud sounds to draw attention for these undead still seemed to be somewhat coherent, although not in any human or even animalistic sense, more of a demonic puppet sense.  Honestly, there is no way in hell I could have foreseen that my ax would get stuck in some mindless creatures skull without making full penetration to his brain that would  cause its demise. My only hope now is to hold the end of the ax handle and direct it until i felt i had control.  I was on my way to the malls sporting goods store when the first one approached.  I was a good bit away from the guard rail, but beyond that guard rail was a straight seventy foot drop. 
As i watched the lines on the parking lot pass by i back peddled with all my heart.  Guiding the frantic creature with the ax, but some how it felt like i was using myself more as bait, as it seemed the creature was all but drooling at the chance to devour me. With the end of the parking space lines getting nearer, I started slowing down.  When I got to the yellow line I stopped as much as I could, seeing how the now irritating beast was still trying to eat me.  I swung the ax around with enough force to swing the creature around me, and with a launching push, i sent it stumbling backwards going head over heels over the guard rail. When he toppled back the ax handle had got caught between the ground and the guard rail, ripping it from the skull, but surprisingly still not killing the poor being.  As the screaming creature held onto its already dead existence via its mangled arm, that too, had gotten caught between the guard rail and the ground, it was all kinda funny.  I walked over to the guard rail, stepped on the mangled arm, and looked at the defenseless attacker and realized that the blood covered face was a face i knew. 
This face was a very familiar face, I hated this face, I dreaded this face more than any other face for several number of years in my preteens.  This face that was staring back in a deranged hysterical fashion, was in fact my middle school gym teacher.  I removed the sledge hammer from the tool belt i was wearing, removed my foot the maimed arm, and with a quick downward thrust of the sledgehammer, the man I knew to be a nightmare officially landing in such a fashion, I'm sure some weirdo somewhere out there would call it art.  But that my friends, was Zombie kill of the week.

© Copyright 2011 jez burn (jburn86 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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