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Night of the loving dude.

Last night I played a terrifyingly stressful campaign of Left 4 Dead in which I was the last survivor battling impossible odds to make it to safety. It was all very dramatic and I was shaking by the end of the whole thing which is somewhat pathetic, considering that it is just a video game. Nevertheless, I went to sleep soon after my harrowing experience with undeath.

I dreamed about zombies. It was a terrifying dream. I had broken my ankle and I was trying to out-limp the massive mob of shambling zombies that were chasing me down a deserted city street. I had no weapon and no companions. Just a broken ankle and the constant moaning of the zombies, a reminder that I was only delaying the inevitable. I limped and cried for help and their hands reached out to grab me and I woke up. And I heard it.

An eerie wail drifted through my window. A lone woman's voice--or what had used to be a woman--wavering in the late night. They were coming. I lay frozen in my bed for a moment as I struggled to orient myself. The moaning continued. No dogs barked. No sirens wailed in the distance. I dragged myself over to the window and listened. I could hear it clearly. I pushed the curtain aside and looked out.

My neighbors were having sex. Loud, noisy sex. And they sounded like zombies.

Comments

Cam said…
That. Is. Fail. But. Awesome.
July 12, 2009 at 6:45 PM
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