'The Chariot of Death'
This is an excerpt from a book called The Zombie Ritual_A Second Coming (pp.58-66 (of 105)).
In the story, this scene (well, there are actually two here, but they're directly related) happens just after the main group has lost another member to the invading zombies in the BNB (bed and breakfast) basement, and are barely able to make it out of it, and into the elevator, themselves. This first scene starts just after the elevator doors open. (Note: the 'Insert Metal Here' is because I can't legally print any of the songs from the 100+ song #DeathMetalPlaylist playing on the building-wide speakers of the BNB throughout the outbreak.)
Chuck is the main character (teenager, metalhead, used to be real into Plato but has recently gotten off the rails in favor of getting all 'first-love-struck' over his girlfriend and especially over death metal), Helen is his girlfriend, Paul is Chuck's teenaged cousin/best friend, Jim is a random kid they've picked up in the chase, and Rufus is a cook of the BNB who's known Chuck and Paul for years.
‘The Chariot of Death’ from The Zombie Ritual_A Second Coming pp.58-66 (of 105)
[Insert ‘Metal’ Here]
Rufus shot the grenade launcher through the hallway. The explosion near its end was loud and obnoxious. The lights were off, but flickered every now and again /> more than enough to get a glimpse of the place to understand the situation clearly enough: the Dead filled every speck of the hall (=O), many on top of one another (o.O) and eating each other (xD), except for that small line in the middle through which Rufus was able to shoot his grenade–
He shot another one and they moved slowly forward. They fired bullets all around, and from side to side, with the handguns and shotguns as fast as they could, formed a small protective circle. Then Rufus shot again /> and again, and again, and again. As a result, the hall was so filled with smoke that it was a downright miracle nobody went down right then and there of sheer lung exhaustion #TheAmountOfCigarettesTheyMustHaveBeenSmoking,Man,Jeez –
Dead corpses went flying overhead–
And then the biggest and most disheartening distinction from Rufus’s dramatic foreshadowing back from the elevator was revealed =o…
It came from beyond the smoke in the back (><). It moved slowly at first. It was as tall as the ceiling, as wide as at least eighty percent the wideness of the hallway, and ranged anywhere from twenty-five to forty feet, length-wise. Its body was made of flesh, puss, fecal matter, and rotten skin, all begotten from other zombies, as one could see by examining the multitude of intact zombie heads and limbs scattered throughout its body and skin–serving as its skin, and as its body–all of which was then surrounded by a think outer combination of slime material, rotten former human skin, and dried blood and puss, which held all of the severed heads and limbs and organs (as well as all of the thing’s internal liquids) in stationary place like a loosely wrapped bandage or towel. It had no eyes, no facial features of its own. None of the entrapped Dead showed any signs of movement or consciousness in them; aside from some fingers in a few of their mouths or anuses, or some eyeballs stabbed with teeth, they stared blankly into space–
This ‘slime’ then extended beyond that outer layer in a way reminiscent of static electricity, reaching out as arms with an almost human quality. To this ‘slime’ the Dead were magnetically attracted once they were within a certain distance. Chuck didn’t know if it was this monster, how people tended to shit themselves in the moment right before they died, or the now hip-high pile of Dead corpses all around, but, whatever it was, the stench in that hall was unbearable–
The ‘giant-cadaver-attractor’, or ‘moving-blob-of-dysentery’, or whatever it the FUCK it was, spotted them and moved into attack position–
Rufus yelled: “Stay close to me!!!”
Rufus JUMPED and sprinted forward. The thing reciprocated the action, started speeding itself up–a bull who’d just spotted something it didn’t like–gradually building momentum against the living like a freight train hitting the longest stretch of straight track in the voyage.
Chuck, Helen, Paul, and Jim all did as they were told–
As they got closer, they screamed–
Rufus blew the grenade launcher at the last moment, only a few feet from the start of the worm’s body. The grenade went into it at its bottom, tilted the front half of its body to its side as the living ran under it–
Rufus shot again to its backend–
“We’re almost there!!!” he yelled over the blast. “Just don’t look back!!!–”
/> Chuck looked back–
From out of the monster’s steaming carcass came speeding thousands upon thousands of spiders, flies, beetles, all kinds of insects, but they weren’t like ‘normal’ insects. They were deformed, misshapen–covered in blood and shit–and moved in that same #Frantic manner the ‘human’ living Dead did–
Following the blast, the #BugsOfTheDead began feeding simply upon Dead corpses, but ran through to Chuck the moment he made eye contact with just one of them!–
“I told you not to look back!!!”
Chuck turned around to his friends. There was another ‘zombie-eater-worm-whatever-thing’ filling the hallway ahead, but quite a bit closer than that: a turn to another hallway to the right–
Rufus there turned, and Chuck was glad he did, but not before the thing up ahead had spotted them, and started sprinting, faster this time–
This new hallway was tiny, had only two doors one across from the other, and a window at its end. Upon Chuck’s turning of the corner, Chuck being last in line, the glass of the window shattered, and a huge array of Dead flew in, including a large number of those insects–
Their door was open, was right by the corner–
But Chuck tripped, fell, and didn’t land on his dick!! Oh, the humanity!!!!!
Rufus, Paul and Helen’s hands could not have come at a better time.
[Insert ‘Metal’ Here]
“I told you not to look back, man!”
They pulled Chuck in, and shut the #HeavyMetal door behind him. How they were able to put it together, if it wasn’t put together before the outbreak, is a mystery, but it was surely heavy duty: big metal bars all around the sides, and three through the middle, along with a big, iron wheel they were in the middle of turning as Chuck was first able to look around the room. All the windows were boarded up, and there were weapons and ammunition in every corner /> swords, knives, chainsaws, flamethrowers, daggers; they even had fucking garlic and some silver bullets just in case #StayTheFuckAwayFro-mMe,Edward,IknowWhatYou’reReallyTryingToDo(CorruptTheYouthXD) . All of Rufus’s friends (thirteen in all, not including Rufus) wore full camouflage, armed to the brim. Several were smoking cigars, others: something else… #TheWorstPossibleOffense… :o
Chuck dusted himself off, stood up–
“I didn’t think what the harm would be–”
“What the fuck were those things anyway?!” –Paul.
“They’re varying versions of the Dead,” Rufus said, and he sat down in a colorful ‘hippie chair’ as he lit up a cigarette (but it didn’t smell like a cigarette O.O). “That ‘worm’ thing you just saw forms when a large number of the Dead all congregate onto one victim. They eat and pick at it so fast, but they’re so ignorant of the fact that there are others doing the exact same thing to the exact same victim at the exact same time for the exact same reasons, that they begin to eat each other, acting as though they’re helping one another–fuckin’ idiots–and, eventually: biogenetically join to form that disgusting walk of #DeadLife you saw back there. Those insects are what form underneath it, the fuel that keeps it going. They’re the Biodegradable Forms of the building blocks which make up the Conscious living Dead, formed with the Dying life, and by it.
Chuck went to where Helen was sitting, sat down next to her–
“We call it the Chariot of Death,” one woman said. “As the True Relative Opposite of Plato’s Chariot of love that he talks about in Phaedrus–
Another: “Chariot of love, chariot of Death, chariot of life, chariot of souls, all the same BULLSHIT if you ask me–”
“The chariot in Phaedrus represented what Plato thought about love,” the woman said. “The charioteer held over two horses, one the Mad Lover, and the other, his Beloved. The charioteer was in charge of the two horses, but he was not infallible, although he represented the Overseer ‘love’, and was the only thing through, and with, which the lost soul of an earthly body can regain its heavenly wings–which it lost at the moment of its birth as a mortal, as is necessary to gain mortality–to then regain knowledge of Absolute Reality, where potential for absolute knowledge of the Forms, souls, God or Universe–and True Love (maybe??)–Waits (#AnotherShoutOutToTh-eHeadx) ).
“It exists within, and for, the heavenly (immortal-from-mortal), and the Individual, with the subsequently assumed projection of Society and mortality to then follow or precede it in-time. The Chariot of Death exists in, and for, the mortal, ‘definition’ (or: the grouping ‘mortality’ implies?), and ‘society’/the group/the primal tribe, with the assumed projection of the Individual, to stay stagnant, in a universe consciously ignorant of undefined time, a chosen ignorance of its mere possibility.
“The Chariot of Death exists for the group, and attracts the souls of the corrupted, of the Dead, of the subconsciously Dying life. They congregate and congratulate through, and for, their mutual ignorance, multiplying to consciously form a ‘Collective’ which accidentally destroys everything in its path, thinking that it’s doing good, through a process we call Personal Misguided Defamation, in which an Individual destroys her or his own life or Death, through a type of collective appropriation, with the mistaken thinking that she or he is doing the exact Opposite: is preserving it. The more they revel in this powerful use of intellect for anti-intellectual purposes, all the more psychosomatically disguised by their belief that they are doing the exact opposite of what they’re actually doing, as time goes on, the more they fuel each other, and the more the immoral-masked-as-moral underpinnings which lie underneath them grow, and are permitted to expand, turning the whole process into one more seemingly/rhetorically logical/survival-based, and, therefore, much more difficult to re-integrate into what actually exists outside it, either physically, mentally, or in-time (before, or after, it was created)…”
…Chuck and Helen’s ‘oohs’ and ‘aah’s and sudden overt fascination with this topic did not go unnoticed (_;).
“Once stuck in the Chariot of Death, one may begin the process which can only end with the Irreversible Impossibility of, and therefore complete Personal Disenfranchisement from, the enjoinment of the mortal soul with Plato’s immortal Wings, as this mortal mind continues to deny, and therefore entirely miss out on, true love–and the recognition of any existence of true Love at all–let alone any potential impact it may have on mortal Individuals, or on Society–or the potential impact anything may have on anything!–which no single Individual mind could ever see defined in full, because she or he is an active part of it.
“Despite whatever it may believe, or whatever we may believe, we are mortal–we do have life, and we can choose to either live it or wait for it to end because ‘fear’ implies that living it is just too damned hard /> and Death only infinitely harder. It is the same as the defined ‘only that which can be lived’. It is the same as dying.”
Helen cuddled closely up against Chuck. He smelled her hair, kissed the top of her head. It occurred to him that the alcohol was most likely still having an effect on her; this to inevitably produce this sudden, oblivious state of bliss as she lay prudently in his arms /> before he remembered all the running around they’d been doing over the previous hour, implying that the alcohol had most probably worn off *TheMostProbably , and that, viz., there was no way it could have been only the alcohol causing her to be like that <3 <3 <3 =D =DDD __; o.Ox! (#Dehydration? ).
“There can be no hope for any of us!...”
Chuck noticed the man on the TV. He was standing in front of a burning hospital with the wind howling, the screams evident at every moment, even when they weren’t directly being heard.
There was silence in the room…
“They’re all over world,” Helen whispered as she breathed in (____;). She grabbed Chuck’s hand with her free one, squeezed it tight.
Trying to keep his hat on despite the wind, the reporter continued: “This hospital has been overrun! We don’t know how it started, but the entire thing went in barely four minutes. The zombies are everywhere in the city, they’re everywhere! We’re getting reports that this is happening all over the world! Many reporters I know have already been killed, most in fact. I’ve been cooped up in the studio until now /> goddamn my bosses for making me come out and do this!!!–”
He took his hat off, threw it to the ground and spit on it (XP’), before going on: “The many I’ve seen look fast, erratic, absolutely inconsolable. We advise you to stay indoors. Board up all your windows, ration your food and wait this out. I cannot express to you the uncertainty of what’s going on here–”
There was a gurgling sound, and the camera dropped to the ground. As blood came flying across the screen in splats, the reporter shrieked in the background, before the feed went black.
‘Somebody’ turned the TV off.
Paul: “Where did you get all these weapons?”
“We’ve been preparing for the apocalypse for some time,” one guy answered (whose name was George, btw). “The way this world has been talking over the past several years, man?” and he shook his head. “Couldn’t take the chance of not being able to hammer their faces–”
Another: “Not to mention this country’s ignorance of the lessons learned from history.”
“What do you mean by that?” Helen asked. The woman clearly didn’t want to have this conversation, looked away with a chuckle, was glad to know that she was the one putting useless (albeit perhaps a little inappropriate :/) conversation to an end before anyone was able to stupidly–
Another: “Fucking slavery for one–”
Paul fixated on her–
“I don’t understand how any human can speak of poverty in black America, or about police brutality, even when justified, perhaps even more so, without some type of sympathy or empathy equally for both sides.” As she went on, her tone became angrier, and then more passive. “I’d say it goes on everywhere, this need to be right /> and when it comes to the poor/police situation, they’re both equally legitimate concerns: being a cop is an extremely difficult job, yet, conversely, no decent person wants a police state. Equality is in the eye of the beholder to a certain extent–as one can never know, exactly, what it’s like to be someone else–and especially when people have such different backgrounds and sets of experiences–”
“Which means there is always something to learn from everyone, even from the worst of us–”
“So you think you could learn something from Hitler??”
Paul had large, dark circles under his eyes, his breathing viscid and hefty. He was ‘shook’, _________________________ ____________’, the hair on his head somehow drawn the way toward the door as if just rubbed vigorously against a balloon–
“You think there’s something to learn from terrorists?!?!”
A guy sitting moved his arm–
Paul raised his rifle–
“Don’t you move, cocksucker!!”
The guy froze, said calmly: “I do not condone the killing of anyone–”
“Oh, don’t give me that shit!” Paul screamed. “These divisions are what put the world into this situation, not my personal opinions!–”
Another: “What makes divisions if not personal opinions?–”
“Leniency on the dividers–”
“There is a ton to learn from Hitler,” yet another person ‘interrupted’ (all these ‘interruptions’, man, wtf?…). “‘How did this evil manifest?’ for example. ‘How do we stop it from happening again?’ ‘What are the warning signs?’ This man was a human being, regardless of how much we all wish that weren’t the case, and his factual existence gives us all an opportunity to learn something about What Makes Evil–”
“Shut the FUCK UP!!!!” Paul yelled. “Hitler was NOT a human!!!”
Paul turned to Chuck, and the gun along with him–
“Calm down, man,” Chuck said with his hands up. “This is just one shitty night–”
“One shitty night?!” Paul pleaded. “You heard the news, the world is overrun by these things! There’s no hope for us! Just look outside this room!!! This building is swarming with those monsters, those ‘Chariots’, those ‘bugs of the Dead life and Death’, or whatever the FUCK tha’ fuckin’ hashtag is, how is there any hope for any of us fucking cucks?!”
A few of Rufus’s crew stood up #That’sAVeryOffensiveWord *TheMostOffensive , and approached the delusional. Paul pointed his rifle back that way, enabling Chuck to grab a sword from a few feet away without issue–
“You need to calm down, man,” one of Rufus’s crew said.
“Don’t you come any closer, porchmonkey!!!–”
Paul raised the gun, pointed it straight in between the speaker’s eyes–
“Tha’ fuck you call me?–”
“You heard me bitch, I’m taking it back! It’s you racist motherfuckers, constantly being offended by everything, who serve directly as the sole reasons we’re so divided–”
“I don’t give a FUCK what skin color you got!!” one of the other guys yelled as he stood up from his barstool and cocked his shotgun. “You point a gun at me, you got a deeper problem–”
[Insert ‘Metal’ Here]
 To my esteemed ‘Passive Voice Police’ out there, I’d like to think to offer my most sincere and really sincere apologies and apologetic condolences /> I think I had felt to feel that I was in need of putting some type of utilization to the oft-sometimes-used pseudo-practice, if it were possibly possible for me to have wanted to have done such a thing at such a time in which it may have been appropriate/inappropriate for me to have thought to have done such a myriad, robust thing or constituent invalidity (the ‘distinction’ is meant to be the focus of the sentence, not what it’s doing #PutTheGrammarBookDown #PutTheGrammarBookDown(‘TheBook’:ElementsOfStyleByWilliamStrunkJr.-AndE.B.White,Rule14In-ThisCase) )
 This is the reference previously mentioned in footnote number 126 #CrisisAverted*(Yes)
 *TheWorst *TheWorst
 Not to be taken too literally here: ‘Definitions’, in this sense: also taken as ‘words’ or ‘language’, we need definitions to know what one is talking about. However, at some point, it may become possible… *NotSayingDefinitively #Don’tFreakOut #Don’tFreakOut to see what others are meaning without single words (right now this is only minimally observable in conversation (as far as I can tell), and it is indeed very minimal (body language, tone etc.)) In this transitory era, in addition to being a necessary step forward for intellect (because it was with them (words and definitions) that we’ve come to be where we are now, in 2017 (they also have pretty potent affects on the way we perceive the universe)), definitions, words and even languages could also be used to simplify human life and human beings, used to differentiate people according to numbers, groups and classes (because they’re coming from similar metaphysical classifications as words) rather than more complicated biases, and those more based upon individuality, experience, character, potential for technicality, recognized emotion etc. Insofar as this could potentially be manipulated on a grand scale, especially implied by the fact that we exist in-time, and, more importantly for this point, in-defined-time, this natural process may be twisted and used to manipulate society, and the Societal Mind (Jung’s collective unconscious), for anti-Individual purposes or, perhaps more commonly, anti-spiritual/individuality-at-the-cost-of-morality (so: different than ‘Individual Mind’, which must involve some type of balance between the mortal and the immortal, as any ‘mind’ implies a ‘soul’ and any ‘soul’ implies balance) ($). I mean, let’s face it, humans mean nothing more than that simple survival instinct which unites all living things anyway, right? There’s no point in trying to move beyond that, or in trying to understand it or anything, right??? Right??????? (:P)
- ‘Mortality’: conscious life in-time
 Or: a mask (turning the Individual into a bland, character/emotion-less cog (number) whose existence is only possible in a universe where Society precedes the Individual, which it can’t because Society is a conglomeration of many Individuals (or: where the Dying life precedes the living life, which it also can’t because those things are relatively True Relative Opposites (both of them being ‘Complex’, and therefore theoretically cannot possibly ‘come from’ one another), and, like, duh, Living is way better than dying))).
- This could also be saying that the previously mentioned ‘projection of Society’ is also something of a mask; in that case, intellectual Society being masked as something of its own entity beyond that of a conglomeration of Individuals, though perhaps this is a little less malicious ;D
 Can anything be ‘consciously ignorant’? Is there a confliction inherent in that phrase?
 Keyword: conscious
 Jung’s Collective Possession (The Undiscovered Self, New American Library, 1957 (pp.4-6))
 This thought might also have a bit to bring up about the concept of ‘political correctness’ (or any censorship) and the idea of ‘PC Culture’ (or any ideology which implies the need to be a part of a group as more important than the need to be an Individual first (the group does not exist without the Individual, or as far as we can tell, the Individual can exist without the group), or that emotion is more important than technicality (they’re equal), and how that could affect the evolution of ‘The Individual in the Group’ in both practicality and in its own understanding of itself and its environment. I condemn ‘PC Culture’ here because I find that, while its intentions and bases of existence may be justified and argumentatively well-founded and thorough, through its means of inherent assumption-with-non-questioning ignorance of fact and technicality (the fact that fact and technicality exist), and exceedingly simplified relegation of human life and experience to nothing more than words, though it tries to argue otherwise (hence the reason I’m bringing this up where I’m bringing it up), it misses the point of what it was trying to say in the first place, the reason it originally had any merit: that everyone deserves to be free, regardless of who they are (which includes people who are ‘offensive’ (trust me, it’s a birthright)), before they’re condemned to be intellectually inferior; and that human life cannot exist if it is not fully and irrefutably free in every sense (both being and becoming) (which one could argue it is not when confined to nothing more than words) /> in relation to words and outward appearances, it’s figuring out what the hell that means (unrestrained freedom in every sense), and what that says about the nature and potentiality of human consciousness and relation, that’s the hard part (if it’s called ‘freedom’, it’s not unrestrained, is it? Because it’s called something? A word? #TheGoddamnedCircleOfForms )
- #Professionalism??? #MoneyAndReputationAreTheOnlyThingsThatMatter,Dawg,GetOverIt
 Like, they didn’t think to pass the damn thing #Assholes ______;
 Watts, Alan. The Book on the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Really Are. 1996. Vintage Books Edition, published by Random House, inc., New York, 1989
 So tight… _. #OMG
 Once again, this is supposed to be a(nother) quote from a song; however, I cannot afford to pay to the publishing company to reprint it. I sincerely apologize, and greatly hope that this does not alter any perception of this story or anything related to it. Please feel free to get into contact with me if you’re curious about what the quote may or may not have been
 A ‘Cuck’ is a dude who is coerced by his woman into watching her get fucked by another dude #KnowYourEnemy(TheGuyFuckingYourGirl?...OrYourself?)
 This is a reference to Clerks II, (Dir. Kevin Smith, Prod. Scott Mosier, Starring Brian O’Halloran, Rosario Dawson, Jeff Anderson, View Askew Productions, The Weinstein Company, Metro-Goldwyn-Maher, 2006); please note that the way this is handled in the movie is the primary reason for the reference, it is not my intention to steal the joke but to cite its comedic relevance in support of my argument. Please watch the movie (4.4/5 rating on amazon)