Topic: Poetry

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Okay, I might as well. One word of warning though - It's really long, and only worthwhile if you read until the very end, so instead of reading half just choose to either read it all or none of it. And it isn't great, has virtually no flow and doesn't rhyme since it's a free write, so please don't expect too much...

Well, anyways, here it is:

The Nosferatu and I

By: B****** Balko

There is no sure explanation.
Maybe an ancient Mayan curse started it,
perhaps some sort of chemical was released into the air,
or maybe God just got bored and decided to have some fun.
Nonetheless, it just began
suddenly and shockingly,
like a power outage on a clear night.
There weren’t any ominous warnings,
no creepy green fog blanketing the horizon,
no sense of deep foreboding that something awful was going to happen.
It just happened.
One sunny afternoon a month ago,
the dead stopped staying dead.

I sit, motionless,
in my apartment.
All is silent except for a low grumbling
coming from my stomach.
But the food is all gone,
like everybody else.

Perhaps I should have run
with the rest of them.
But I was scared,
far too scared
to make the journey out of town
with them wandering the streets.
The undead beasts that walk aimlessly,
limping from place to place,
smelling indescribably awful.
Call them what you will –
zombies, the living dead, whatever tickles your fancy,
to me, they will always be
the Nosferatu.
It’s a Roman word synonymous with vampires,
but was originally used to describe the dead
returned to life.

When I heard what was happening,
it seemed impossible.
But I saw them,
and they were unquestionably real.
They began the exodus.
Everybody left, hoping the problem was exclusive
to our town.
I couldn’t do it then,
only holed myself up in my apartment.
It provided safety, familiarity, protection.
But now I need to leave,
my apartment, and this town,
if I hope to survive.

I might need a weapon.
I sit up and rush to the kitchen,
eyes darting at sharp knives, meat tenderizers, rolling pins,
even tongs.
Anything lethal would have to do.
But can I kill that which is already dead?
Who knows?

I select a heavy pan
as my herculean club,
my last resort,
my final protection
against the Nosferatu.

I open my apartment door,
just a crack
and stare out.
Empty halls stretch on
for an infinity
in both directions.
I step outside of my apartment for the final time,
clutching the pan,
and head down the hall,
breath held.
So far, so good.
I check the stairwell,
and find nothing but a spiraling staircase.
Excellent.
I step down cautiously,
my free hand gripping the railing tightly.

I’m outside.
The street is eerily empty,
quite literally a ghost town.
I shiver.
After a moment of hesitation,
I head in the general direction of the grocery store.
I can’t escape town on an empty stomach;
I need a snack.
I just hope nothing else does too.

Unfortunately, I don’t make it to the store.
On my way, I hear something
emerge from an alley behind me.
I turn around, eyes wide.
A humanoid figure walks towards me.
My fear has paralyzed me.
My feet are trapped in a pool of cement
that has just dried.
I’m crippled by horror.
I forget the pan in my hand,
it clatters to the floor,
never to fry another egg
or cook another stir-fry.

The thing comes closer,
and now I know it is one of
the Nosferatu.
It was once a man,
but is now a creature,
a tool of darkness.
Its face is discoloured,
its jaw dislocated,
its eyes covered in milky cataracts,
its hands shaped like claws.
I fall backwards, hardly feel the pavement
as it pats me on the back,
almost saying, well, you had a good run.

The Nosferatu moves steadily towards me,
claw outstretched.
Oh God!
The claw is headed for my chest,
closer, closer, agonizingly closer.
I open my mouth to scream and –
“Need a hand?” Asks the Nosferatu.
Its voice is garbled, but polite.
My terror is replaced by confusion.
“But... aren’t you...” I begin
“Going to eat you? Heavens no!”
He utters a bitter laugh.
“Of course not. We’re not monsters. Just dead.
And lonely.”

His hand is still out.
I reluctantly take it.
It’s cold, but surprisingly supportive.
We get a snack,
chat,
and decide to stick with each other.
Together,
we walk outside of town,
and into the sunset.

Isn’t friendship a beautiful thing?