It Would Be So Much Easier Without The Noise
(© Lee Hartnup, 11-Jan-2005)
It would be so much easier without the noise. On and on it goes. That same strangled gasping. I am sure that soon I will go mad. Not in the melodramatic sense but actually medically insane.
I am finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate. My mind keeps wandering. I cannot afford to have this happen. I do not have much tape left. I expect this to my epitaph, as there will be nobody to bury me or say any words for me. This does not upset me as much as it once would seeing as nobody is being buried lately. You see since the dead began to rise there has been little cause for funerals. Ha Ha.
Oh God how did it all go so wrong? Are we so arrogant that You feel the need to wipe us out? It would not surprise me. No! I have got to focus. Time is short I know.
My name is Hector Williams. I was..Am a priest. Even now with the abominations walking the streets feeding on whatever poor soul they find, making that same poor soul as they are, still I must keep my faith. Such a fragile thing, faith. I never lost mine. After my accident. After my wife deserted me. When the world gave up hope. Still I believe.
I will not go into details of how they first appeared. How the governments of the world thought they could cope. How people were unprepared for the geographical infestation. Whoever finds this tape will already know.
Oh how I wish the noise would stop! I would shut the door if I could. You see, I had an accident three and a half years ago. I was left wheelchair bound with only the use of my left hand. My wife could not cope with my disability. I forgive her. She came from a religious family and although it pains me to say this, although I have known this in my heart for many years, I feel she married me for the status. The wife of a priest in a small town could be considered something of a boon. I bear her no malice.
SHUT UP! Dear Lord, spare me the noise! I cannot bear it.
After my wife left me the townsfolk have been ever so helpful. Mrs Davis has moved in with me to assist me, as I am virtually helpless. It seems that Fate has a sense of humour. Dear sweet Mrs Davis, my helper, my soul mate, will be, in the end, my death.
My time is short, that I know. Mrs Davis could not cope with the horror enveloping the world. She has lost her family to this..this..I do not know how to describe it. Onslaught. The screams from outside are terrifying to say the least. Knowing they are dead and desire nothing more than to feast on our flesh is enough to unhinge anyone.
Mrs Davis could not go. Her faith left her, no matter how hard we prayed. Four days ago she kissed my forehead and told me she was sorry. She walked into the other room. That was the last time I spoke to her. Four days without food or water. I am sitting in my own excrement. Cramps wrack my body. Still the gasping continues.
Mrs Davis has sealed my doom. Starvation is not what scares me. You see, the poor woman hanged herself. In the next room. But because of what is happening she has returned as one of them. Her choked gasps torment me without end.
When the sun shines through the curtains I can see her shadow kicking. Also I hear the creak of the light fitting she obviously hanged herself from. It will not hold. Soon the fitting will fall and Mrs Davis will find me, in my wheelchair, unable to defend myself.
I know I am to be martyred. That is the reason for this tape. I ask forgiveness. Whoever finds us here I pray they end us before we end them. Please…if you are listening to this tape..I am sorry. I pray to God that I will not know what I am doing.
– THE END-