INFECTION
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Johnny 6-Feet
Achilles Research Lab- 7.40am I stagger blindly through the corridors, choking on tears
Behind me, with inhuman moans, my focus of fear
“God help us!” I’m bleeding heavily now “What have we done?”
Human greed has murdered us all, our work’s worth seems none
Peter had tried to steal the virus, a cosmetic creation
Meant to reverse aging with geometric equations
But the process wasn’t finished, the vial was untested
And as it shattered from his foolish grab, bystanders stood breathless
Tom vomited uncontrollably and fell to his knees
And you could tell how he bleeds that he’d caught the disease
Violence erupted, one man snatched a wrench from a desk
Cracked Peter across the skull, scraped the edge on his chest
He fell just as Tom rose with a glaze in his eyes
Not even malice on his features but Satanic pride
He sank his teeth into another and the process began
The outbreak of the infection, its was hopeless, I ran
I slump against a locker, whimpering at the bite marks
I know I’m dead already, losing my life spark
I twist the combination, take out my berretta, go figure
Say a final apology and set off the trigger
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FanTa Zee
13 Mulberry Drive, 2 Miles East Of The Lab: 11:15
Beads of sweat still lap my forehead, pillow soaked in perspiration,
Night of passion left behind us, awake to a new day with a sense of elation,
Hear a tapping on the window, the frosted glass gives way to day,
As the curtains are blown backwards, revealing a warped and twisted face,
He stares with malice in his eyes as he discovers a thirst for blood,
Frantically scrabbles at the windowsill digging his fingernails into the wood,
With frenzied fear in my stomach I lean over to shake the wife,
Thrust her sideways out of the bedroom door, and tell her to run and hide,
I grab the first thing I can find, tearing the telephone reciever from the wall,
Hurling it through the glazing, as shards shatter all over the floor,
He seems to feel no pain, doesn't even flinch as I shout and swear,
But mumbles incoherently, as if he believed I wasn't there,
He squeezes himself through the opening, glistening splinters pierce his skin,
The wind whistling around the bedclothes, whipping my dressing gown about my limbs,
I shudder with delusion, unable to believe until I hear a scream,
That hurtles through my body, cold and chilling, from within,
I hurry down the mottled stairs and through the kitchen door,
To find my wife in horror, strewn bleeding across the lino floor,
Three or four of these creatures paw at her as she struggles to escape,
All breathing hard and heavy, with a sense of foul enjoyment on their face,
I break my way through the swarm, but can't get to her in time,
Her blood has run, her time is done, and now there after mine.
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Issue
Feels Like Home: 21:47
My legs are limp and lazy, my vision is dim and dazy.
My mind is going crazy, hazed thoughts overtake me...
I'm running hastely away from these crazed savages that chase me,
But running faster into the arms of the amazing pain that awaits me.
My stomach's turning and burning, spurning volatile vomit...
My tongue is turning blue and churning suicidal sonnets.
My larynx is blood red onyx but my eyes are strangely honest,
My time is like a comets; So strong, so quick. Thick within demonics...
I rip my lips away with screams at non-existant beings,
I stutter only verbally, meaning I'm shuddering internally.
I'm bleeding with such a certainty that energy is so rare to me.
I'm carefully edging towards shadows that followed...
Feeling hollow and redeeming sorrow, honestly afraid of tomorrow.
In this horror I'm weakening and in this torture I'm deepening.
My soul is seeping and leaking away from my grasp.
I clasp my hands with meaning to the moments that are my last....
I am infected.
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Def Poets
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