Zombie Tip of the Day

As some of you know, the closer of my crew anyway, I am an avid zombie fanatic. I love the idea of an apocalypse of undead running through the streets and surviving it till the last one falls over from complete decay. And yes, they will decay if not nourished. They are still human and have the human genome and physiological makeup that if they don't eat, they will die. It's science. My science.

I figure, what I can do for you, my awesome fans, is present you with a few tips to make your end of days an easier, and slightly more enjoyable, route to take. Because let's face it, without guidance you can run into a few snags along the way. There's more to survival than trying to kill a zombie. What do you do when you run into humans who have lost the will to live? What if you run into those same set of survivors but they don't trust anyone but themselves, then you are in trouble. Ammo isn't always best. So, starting now, I will let you into my magnificant mind of zombie skills and a couple times a week present you with a tip. And these are in no particular order. I had these tips way before Zombieland.

Tip #1: Guns aren't always the best tool

Yes, it's true, a quick shot to the head and a zombie will drop. That has been proven in every movie possible and it just makes sense. But if you are months into your survival and are in a populated area, chances are you would be running low on ammo. That being said, you need to find other ways to keep yourself safe. Hopefully you can stomach what will happen because your combat is about to become close quarters. Find yourself a sturdy Louisville Slugger. That will rattle any brain. An axe would also be a great tool. Anything your two hands can wield. Or if you are a ninja, maybe there are other tools you find useful. If you are held up in a good shelter with enough supplies to make it for a while, save that ammo for any wandering LIVING humans who want to steal from you. Chances are that you will find it easier to get them to run away with a gun to their head than you would a zombie.

And. . .comment. Thoughts?

Autobiography of an Assassin

I present to you my first installment of something I hope to be great. Please enjoy.               

                 I write this by the candlelight in the stillness of the night. The darkness is overwhelming. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know who to tell, and I can’t push away the demons that have haunted me these many years. This candle, even though it emits light, its warmth I cannot feel.

                 I have no regrets. I have no desire to change the past from anything I have done. Not only do I choose not to, I cannot change the things I have done. They are done and if it is forgiveness I need to seek, the only person I can ask forgiveness of is God, if he will even listen to me. I am certain he has left me in the void, in the deep recesses of my mind that plague me even now. There is no escape from the things I have done, only embrace, only acceptance.

                There was a time in life where I had many friends. When I was younger, popularity followed me wherever I was.  Anything I tried, I excelled at. Even though friends came and went, they at least came. That has ceased now and I haven’t seen a friendly face in years. Any friends I did have, are now long gone; either taken by the conditions of life or by the realization of the malevolent desires and iniquity that was always present around me. This candle is my only friend now.

                I have seen the world! OH how I have seen this world! There are parts of this earth that people can’t even imagine that I have witnessed with my own eyes. Spectacular images that bring even the toughest brigand to his knees. Things that make a person take a step back and realize there has to be a god, which these things are not a victim of circumstance, evolution, or some theory. The beauty I have beheld can only be that of the Almighty, the same Almighty that I soon go to see.

                This beauty continues to fade farther and farther away from me and I can no longer enjoy the creations of God.  My mind only harbors the scourge of faces I have seen taken from this life. They are the faces of sympathetic disappointment and lament. If they had voices, I am sure the howling would drive me to the brinks of insanity. I know this because these are the faces of the people I have killed. It was I who robbed them of the joys of life and in their eyes, no revenge burns against me. Instead it is pity that burns, and it wrenches my soul.

                My name is Dante Boromi.

                I am an assassin.