Just gonna drop this here, from an email I sent a friend as a Christmas present.
I had a fucked up dream last night. Get cozy while I type this shit out for you. You're welcome.
I'm in something like the lobby of a metro station, except with a big seating area like in airports (where I'm lying down over several adjacent seats because almost no one else is there) and a big flatscreen TV on one of the walls. I've been dozing off, so when I wake up I don't recognize what's playing on the TV. Utterly bored, I turn my attention to the last few minutes of what appears to be a zombie movie starring Nic Cage as the son of Bruce Willis. The zombie menace has been stopped before it could spread outside the research facility / office building, unfortunately at the cost of Bruce's life. "He makes heroic sacrifices, that's what he's for," I think.
Cage is watching TV about an hour after the incident has ended- it's 5 AM. The morning newscasters are ridiculing the company Bruce owned (and now Cage has inherited) for its poor handling of the incident; in particular, at one point a large quantity of napalm was poured down an office hallway and out a glass window onto the street below, causing several fatal burns and car crashes. Also, the final explosives used to destroy the 'heart' that was causing the zombie sickness ended up showering the city in small pieces of rotten flesh, which is something of a health care concern. Cage is upset that the news anchor is so disrespectful of his father's quick decision making and so ungrateful for not being a zombie. However, he has a lot to think about and work on, now that he's in charge of the whole company, and he feels frustrated that not even he can properly show his grief.
Cut to Bruce's funeral. A maniac woman whose husband worked for the company and died during the incident rushes in and tasers a police officer to get through the police line surrounding the graveyard. She runs towards Cage, taking out a large butcher's knife, and begins to scream about "the father of the unclean." Cage stares in horror; he is convinced she intends to desecrate his father's remains, in a belief that he will rise as a zombie otherwise. He pulls out his pistol and shoots her through the head.
The movie begins to enter some lengthy description of court proceedings following Cage's basically unjustified homicide. I try to follow but it gets very technical and stupid, so I pull out my cell phone and check the time. It's about 4:15 pm. I had to get on the orange line by 4:00 or I wouldn't be able to make it to my destination on time. I give up and walk outside.
It's a bright and sunny day with just enough wind to make the air crisp. Just a few feet outside the building I walked out of is a large divided highway with no guardrails to speak of. Cars zip past and it's hard to stand when the wind following them pushes at me. I turn left and walk up a short hill to try to get a better view to get my bearings. I notice that the metro building is about 20 feet square, made of bricks, with a red-painted service door with no handle as its only entrance or exit. Behind the building is a tall sound wall (of the sort typically built between major roads and rich people's houses) that extends as far as I can see in either direction. There's a lot of bushes and vines growing next to and up the side of the sound wall, and an occasional large tree a bit closer to the highway. I stop and sit under one of the trees to try to figure out what to do next.
I suddenly realize where I am (by the side of Fairfax County Parkway, between West Ox and Franklin Farm, except the metro building isn't usually there, and the road isn't usually a highway) so decide that maybe I should call my family to come pick me up (it's like five minutes away.) So I take out my phone and I'm scrolling through the numbers. I'm stalling for time; for some reason I'm not eager to see my family. I see an entry in my phone that I don't remember putting there; it's a scrambled mess of letters beginning with 'R'. I hear a female voice nearby say, "Hey!"
I look up to see a girl about middle school age whom I identify as Rachel (I've never seen this person in real life.) She has long wavy brown hair, a smallish head, glasses, and a wide mouth. She's wearing a red and yellow Harry Potter scarf over a purple sweater and blue jeans. She taunts me in an almost sing-song voice, "Betcha didn't know that I have a cell phone too, and it has YOUR number in it, mister Bruce Willis!"
Of course I reply that I definitely knew that and what is wrong with her, that's not name, while standing up. She rolls her eyes and keeps walking along the highway to the left. I keep walking alongside her on the grounds that at least it's something to do other than call my parents and she at least knows where she's going. I'm suddenly aware that she's going to her violin lesson; Rachel is quite an astonishing violin player. I know her violin teacher well, a middle-aged woman with frizzy black hair and no tact. We arrive.
As we climb down the steps to the basement entrance of the violin teacher's house, I kick a scrap of zombie flesh out of the way. This lets me see Rachel's eyes out of my peripheral vision, and they look a bit bloodshot. I decide we must just both be tired and wait as she lets herself in to the building with her key. I figure I might as well come inside and say hi to the violin teacher. As I come inside, Rachel is explaining to the violin teacher that people always give their kids one regular safe name to be their first name and then give them a middle name after someone they admire. I find this claim to be dubious but say nothing; I just make friendly eye contact with the violin teacher. The room is fairly dark, lit mostly by the light at the top of the basement stairs. The walls are wood paneling and the floor is covered in a shaggy blue carpet. There are three black plastic chairs, reminiscent of those in airport waiting areas. To kill even more time I decide to sit and listen to the violin lesson.
Rachel is less focused and rowdier than usual, and several times I have to help the teacher convince her to calm down and go back to practicing. Each time, I notice that her eyes are a little redder. Finally the teacher is at her wits' end and I ask Rachel if she's tired, and if I should walk her home. She shrugs melodramatically, as teenagers do to adults, and as she stands up to go the teacher mouths "good job" to me.
To get to Rachel's house we have to go through the back door of the teacher's house. As we go, I try to make jovial conversation; I say, "You know, maybe I should change my middle name to Spartacus. Then I wouldn't even have to lie to the roman army. Plus, I already admire him." She is not amused. As we approach the back door, instead of opening it inwards she pushes and rips the heavy wooden door off its hinges. She walks through the doorway holding the door in one hand. I'm trying to think of some witty way to ask her not to do that kind of thing, but she turns around and throws the door at me. I'm barely able to protect myself with my hands, but the sudden impact still hurts quite a bit. I look at her and her right eye is simply very bloodshot but her left is just a pupil suspended in a ball of yellow pus held in her eye socket by the stretched remains of the flesh of her eyeball. I tell her we definitely need to get her home to a doctor.
The path to Rachel's house is through a dense forest full of biting insects and other pests. I wave my hands nearly constantly to try to keep them away from my face, with only limited success. Rachel regards my flailing with scorn. We emerge from the forest into a grassy field with a huge lake on the other side. Across the lake a city skyline is barely visible; the jagged upper half of the blown apart office building from the movie is recognizable. I decide to rest on one of the wooden park benches facing the lake before continuing. Rachel sits on the grass behind me.
On the next bench to my left are two young men in their mid-twenties. They have very similar faces, and both have the same short black hair, so I decide they are twins. One is writing something with a fountain pen on a brown clipboard while the other watches with a curious expression. They begin to argue about something I lack the technical expertise to even place as a field, but eventually I realize they're writing a piece of violin music. Rachel takes her violin out of its case and walks over. She begins to play the music that the first brother was writing on the piece of paper; it's quite beautiful. I turn back towards the lake and see a body floating towards me in the water; it's Bruce Willis, badly burned by the explosion. I start towards him, to try to get him out of the water and see if he's alive, when the violin music is interrupted by Rachel's blood-curdling scream.
I turn just in time to see both brothers' heads ripped off, one in each of her hands. The flesh around her mouth is ripped off to reveal jagged, sharp teeth. She drops the heads and leaps at me. I jump to the water to try to defend myself with Bruce Willis's body but she catches my legs in midair and rips me apart lengthwise.
The end. |
