a l l i e

"Who I am and what I want are a secret."

The mansion was my sanctuary, my solace, my retreat from the outside world now overidden with cannibalic beings that devoured like there's no tomorrow. Then again, when I thought about it,

there really is no tomorrow.

Not too long ago, a strange disease broke out somewhere near the research facility of this bio-tech company. And when it got to the news, well, I thought this was Capcom's Resident Evil in real life. The citizens were forced to evacuate immediately, including my family. Sadly, the infected ones has already flooded the city by then and only a few people were safely evacuated to a safer place.

But well, in situations like this, there's bound to be survivors, no?

Those who survived took shelter in our mansion; some survived the ordeal, others...we simply had to kill off. It was all that we could do to keep the survivors alive. Here, in our mansion, there were no relations, no friends, no lovers; we are all survivors, and our mission is to endure this nightmare and pray that it will one day come to an end. Somehow.

- - - -

I could not call them zombies...nor could I call them vampires. They were strange beings, I must admit, strangely dangerous. One bite from them can turn a human into one of them in a matter of minutes. They become bloodthirsty and will begin rampaging about, constantly hunting for the living. It was as though they have lost their minds, or rather, something else took control, like some carnal instinct that just kept them running.

"They're not zombies," I told the others during one of our meetings in one of thesafe rooms.

Dallas, the self-appointed leader of our group (who was also my father), disagreed; "Whatever they are, they're dead and moving," he stared at me with those hard eyes of his, "And fast,"

"Mr. Dallas, we cannot stay here forever,"

All eyes turned to the latest member of our meeting group, Dr. Sheila. If you think her title meant that she was once a doctor in some shabby old clinic, well, that's where you're wrong. Sheila's one of the survivors from the research facility, where it all began. She was there from the beginning and survived all the way to our mansion. Who knows how she managed to surpass those rabid creatures outside. Heck, even I'd like to know.

But the one thing that surprised us was her newfound opinion here. She suggested that we flee.

Dallas looked at her for a long time. And just when he wanted to say something in reply, Gregory, our former plumber, interrupted; "Why not? We have enough supply here to last us for years! Heck, we even have our guns, ammos!"

The stern-looking doctor fixed her glasses, "Because, Mr. Gregory, those years you speak of would come to a close end," she stood up, taking control of the council this time, "I've seen the number of people who took shelter in your mansion, Mr. Dallas, and there are many. Mr Gregory might be right, but if we were to let this go on, eventually our supplies will run out and we will be forced to...'clean up' some unnecessary survivors, no?"

There was truth in her words, I knew, but Dallas was not one to give up so soon. I leaned back in my chair, watching Dallas's eyes gleaming darkly at Sheila; "Woman," he started, "We saved your sorry ass from those things out there by giving you a place here, in 'my' home. And you're telling us to leave?"

"Think about it, Mr. Dallas. Would you rather end up being like the infected ones out there or remain in this hellhole for the rest of your life?"

The air in the safe room grew tenser by the second. Dr. Sheila spoke the truth, the one truth that we all refused to admit. I looked at Gregory. our old plumber, to everyone present in the safe room, and then to my father...Dallas. I wondered what went on in that screwed up mind of his. For a long time, he ruled over us like an alpha wolf reigning over his pack. Now, there's Dr. Sheila and her logical reasoning to challenge Dallas's iron rule.

This spells trouble.

And knowing Dallas, my own flesh and blood, he would definitely try something.

- - - -

"Holy --!!" exclaimed a voice, "Who the fuck opened the door!?"

"Damnit, they're coming!"

"Hold your positions! Fire at will!" a male voice yelled an order, "GODDAMNIT, JUST KEEP THEM AWAY FROM THE MANSION!"

"We can't, sir! They're--AAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"SHIT!" there was a sound, then a crack, "FALL BACK!"

"But sir, she's still--"

Another sound; almost like a gunshot. And then silence.

"We can't risk it," replied the stern voice, "Evacuate the others! And find Dr. Sheila! She might know a way out!"

- - - -

And so it began, the madness, the nightmare.

I was still in bed when all these happened, but when I tried to move, I realised that Dallas still had his arm clasped tightly across my chest. He was fondling them about, murmuring something of death and doom; he lost it already.

"Fuck you, old man," I tore his hand off me and kicked him off, "This is boring,"

I left him there, mumbling miserably to himself. There was a gun somewhere, I knew he kept one in one of the drawers.

"OH GOD HELP ME, HELP ME, HELP ME, HELP--" crack.

The handguns were there, safely kept beneath a board in one of the drawers. A convenient place, I must admit. My clothes were back in my room, but it's much too far for me to go to. Then again, it doesn't matter to me anymore. All was lost. Tomorrow is gone, thanks to this fool.

"Cya around, Dad,"

So I strode out of the door and went downstairs, wondering if there was anyone who survived the first onslaught. For a moment there, I wondered if I too had gone crazy like Dallas. All these thoughts in my mind, they seem to urge me to do the impossible, to face those creatures and smile victoriously as they devour me to the bone. I felt anxious, excited...I wanted to do it.

There were more disgusted gurgles lurking about, but I knew they were more of them out there. With the gun in my hand, I stepped out through the front door of the mansion and shot the first infected that lunged itself at me.

"THEY HAVE FORSAKEN US! ALL IS GONE!" I yelled to those beings, shooting them when they came too close, "ALL IS LOST! I AM LOST!"

I laughed; it was exciting! Imagine yourself standing there in the midst of danger, armed with a gun and just shooting the hell out of those things. It's a godlike feeling, it is madness, it is power, it is--

My gun disappeared.

"Shouldn't you be running, Heather?"

I stopped short and looked up to see a familiar pair of eyes looking down at me. They were dark...yet, I seem to know them. The others were circling me and slowly, I began to back away. The tall, dark man approached me, putting up his enigmatic smile as he got closer.

It was confusing; this man was like them, an infected. He had the signs in the eyes, the occasional gurgles he made like the rest of the infected, the wobbly gait in his walk...

but he spoke, just like a normal person.

Could it be...?

No! Everyone's dead! Everyone's gone!

I'M THE ONLY ONE LEFT HERE!

Alarmed, I backed away and tried to close the door. But those beings proved too strong for me. The man was still there, still advancing towards me. I have to lose him!

I ran back to the living room and tried to shut the door from there. No, it wasn't strong enough. That man was still able to open it. He was smirking, like a normal being, while the rest of the infected loomed hungrily from behind him.

"You should really run, Heather. It's no good stopping us now," he said.

It was there that I felt it after so long. That feeling finally returned to haunt me once more; fear. Raw fear.

He was there, goddamnit, and he's one of them...but he spoke. That was wrong. That was terribly wrong. But I couldn't comprehend anything at this point. My mind ran, my heart raced, my body shook; fear. Fear was here, fear came back to rule once more.

Fear made me scream.

I ran from him, from the infected. I had to, I wanted to, I didn't want to die to them. Fear awakened my survival instincts and urged me to get away from them. And that I did, without fail.

"Not too fast, Heather,"

The stairs, up the stairs! Run there! Haven! Sanctuary! Safety!

But then I felt a pair of strong arms that grabbed me from behind. He got me! But no, I can't let it end here! Sobbing, I tried kicking the wall, hoping to fall down the stairs with him. Yet, he was too strong. Too strong...

Then there was that teeth of his, sinking on the nape of my neck...

Is this the end?

"RUN!" cried a female voice.

The man immediately released me and choked. But before I could speed off, he grabbed my by the shoulders and whispered into my ears;

"Go, we'll cover you,"

Honestly, if I had the time to ask what the hell was going one, I could. But no, there was no time. The man was holding his position, blocking from letting the infected get to me. I spied another woman too, shoving them about with her brute strength. In my madness, I recalled a name.

Eronn.

And then I ran.

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Gah, I figured this was nice at first but when it got towards the end, it started getting choppy. All hail choppy sentences, hurrah.

The story up there was actually a snippet of a nightmare I got this morning. If I were to write my whole nightmare in detail, it would be really...incoherent, because it involved a little shopping spree before the whole infected-zombie whatsis. And the nightmare only picked up from the part where Heather was shooting at the zombies and that scene where that strange man appeared and helped her.

...I suppose what I wanted to portray there was fear, isolation, and madness. Maybe madness. I'm not sure myself. Heather went slightly mad because she was traumatised from the whole infected-whatsis thing and the thing with Dallas was...well, the last straw, as they'd say. Then again, her dad was mad to begin with anyway.

Bah, all this started when I played that zombie-shooting game, Left4Dead. Aiman was pretty the main reason why I played it, but when I really got the hang of it, the game was actually quite fun.

Yea, fun and all. But that does not stop me from getting nightmares. It's strange though, I have a certain phobia against zombies...or rather, being alone in a zombie-infested area. I suppose claustrophobic would be the closest thing I could think of when I thought of that.

Yes, I have a big phobia against zombies...or anything that transforms a human into something that it shouldn't be (like those things from 28 Days/Weeks Later and Quarantine). It...just scares me. Terribly.

Oh well. Enough mad rambling for the day. And now that I think of it...

I wonder what happened to that doctor.

So today
We fly to see another day
another past
another future
another time

We fly and forget
let them all drift away.
Fade to dust
these troubled qualms

Our wings soar high
tips touching the endless blue

Bliss overflowing

Infinity dwells
this stagnant space

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I wrote this out of boredom. But really, they were just random thoughts in my mind.

Lately, I've been thinking about flying.

Oh well.

At any rate, this post is here to show that Aufsteigende Flugel is still alive and well. Its author is currently enjoying a particular game that has been occupying her time all these while (uninspired would be the correct word here, but I simply must refrain from using such words as it will only dishonour the author and arouse her wrath).

Until then, please remain seated and we will continue this journey when all is fixed.

Thank you.

And have a happy christmas, fellow readers.

Recently, I've been tuning in to Dreams.

If you actually cared to tune in to the song, you might recognise the tunes of this song. And yes, I'm pretty sure most of you guessed it as that song sung by The Corrs, no? Sorry to break your bubbles, loves, Dreams's original singer is Fleetwood Mac. But not too worry, I was caught in that trap too, until my father pulled me out from that little trap and opened my eyes to his music genre.

Dreams, I thought, was quite an inspirational song to me. In a way, it tells a story about someone who wants everything but remains unaware of the loss in between. It reminds me a lot of Ryoko, a character of mine in my head (and by that, I meant that I haven't written any stories for him).

Ryoko's a philanderer who enjoys sleeping with different women every night (note; I mentioned women, not woman). As a detective and part of the higher-ups in the political realm of Neo-Tokio, he gets paid in big bucks; most of them come from bribes. He sees no meaning in money and merely throws them to the prostitutes he hires.

In a way, you could see that he has somehow lost that purpose in life. He dreams for a better society, he dreams to return to his wife, he dreams to put those corrupted politicians behind bars, he dreams of justice; but to him, they were merely dreams. Tomorrow, for him, was just another today. In his dream for a better society, he only made it worse. In his dreams to return to his wife, he goes off philandering with prostitutes. As for justice, well, Ryoko is the epitome of corruption itself.

Hm, I don't know how else I could describe him. I could imagine him laughing to this song, and then throwing a book at the audio player in frustration. XD Ryoko has always struck me as that kind of person.

At any rate, I'll stop my ramblings and get on with Jo Lyn's lovely tag. =P

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