The New Year has rung in, again. What was once a town crowded with party goer’s is now desolate. No streamers and glitter, only blood spattered buildings and corpses. Champagne and perfume replaced with death and horror. Sitting here on my perch, I remember being here when it was full of life. Dancing and laughter filled fun, peace on Earth and goodwill towards men. I snort at the thought. The moment the ball dropped five years ago and unleashed the undead hoard into the masses, life has been nothing but wars, pillaging, raping, and death.
The ash from my stale cigarette falls to the ground and I rub my eyes with the weariness that never seems to leave my body now. Her bright face flashes before my eyes as the memory haunts me as if it were just last night. The beautiful blonde hair flowing around her face, the light snow that fell and trapped in her curls. The way the lights glinted off it made her already breath taking exquisiteness surreal. Her eyes were the green color of the sea and her lips were ripe cherries plucked from their tree. Her laughter was the sound of angel’s wings brushing your heart, stealing your breath in awe.
I had spent months looking for the perfect ring, going to all the major stores, most expensive pieces, but no one had anything that was right for her. One afternoon I stumbled upon this little shop off to the side of town, no fancy signs or advertising, just a small brown building with writing in the window that said Mama’s Place. I had never seen it before, but something drove me inside. There was a couple that was well along in their years who I came to discover were from the old country. I wound up spending hours with them talking that day, telling them about her. The man smiled and patted his wife’s hand as he went into a back room. When he came back he produced a small sea green velvet box, one that almost matched her eyes. Inside was the most perfect ring I had ever seen. It was nothing fancy, just a small gold band with three simple stones that were the most clear diamonds I had ever seen. The man explained it was his great great grandfather’s ring, and had many centuries of true happiness and love behind it. He told me it was $100, I tried arguing that I couldn’t possibly buy his family heirloom, but his wife would hear none of it. True happiness comes with no price and no bounds.
That night I had taken my love to town to enjoy the festivities. We had laughed and danced with the other people filling the streets. Everything was perfect, I knew the moment was right and I pulled out the ring getting down on my knee to ask her to be my wife. Tears fell from her eyes as people stood around clapping and cheering when she said yes. I had picked her up and swung her around kissing her as the ball dropped to ring in the most perfect moment of my life, and when my nightmare began.
Before any of us truly understood what was going on, a mass of undead ripped into the crowds feasting on all the warm bodies. I had been in so much bliss that I never heard anything until they tore her from my arms and chewed her throat out, spraying me in her warm blood turning me into the icy mess I have become. How I survived that night when they ripped out her heart and jammed it into their mouths, I still don’t know. Her terror ridden face as she died reaching for me still tears through me like a million knives that shred me apart. Somehow though, I am still here, holed up inside of Mama’s Place, the sweet old couple long gone. When I stumbled in here, they were curled up on the couch in each other’s arms, peaceful and natural. No one tore out their hearts, they died naturally of old age and love.
I put her ring back into my pocket where it has stayed since that dreadful night. Spitting out the bad taste in my mouth, I look out the window again at the moon filled night. There are thousands of them out there, those monsters, roaming the streets in search of flesh and blood. There really is nothing left for me, but still I fight to survive. I know I cannot give up, I have to see my angel.