Zombie Apocalypse Continued
It was all over the news – like an epidemic the word had spread, plaguing the world’s swiftly beating hearts and troubled minds with a horror that, until this day, had remained unbeknownst to mankind. An apocalypse, the newscaster stuttered, driven by intellectual dilution and downright stupidity, had dawned, and spurred with it a race of terrifying, mindless creatures, a species so primal they were rendered speechless, thoughtless, and consumed with a hunger for conformity. These creatures, screeched the newscaster, were none other than the monstrous beasts known as flesh-eating, mind-gobbling zombies.
Of course, as a life-long student, I had prepared myself already with the necessary tools to overcome this contagion: a plethora of literature from my personal library. My collection, once read aloud, and which acted as a sort of kryptonite against gluttonous zombies, instantly led to the decay of whatever brain matter the zombie had managed to maintain.
One day as I sat reading – one has to stay knowledgeable in these unenlightened times, you know – a thin layer of smoke began to permeate the room. I ran to the window, keeping my book close at hand, and peered into the outer world.
The gut-guzzlers had constructed a bonfire, and in it, I saw a thousand wounded soldiers – the books we intellects had tried so adamantly to use against them – turn to ash.
