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:SR: Round 5- Dwelling in the Seventh - Part 1"And remember, it's only an illusion, deary. It'll be gone if you go too far from the boundaries."
"I hope I doesn't get too out of hand, then. My body isn't cut out for this."
"Not your body? Then it all depends on your," he chuckled, "imagination~"
Here I am, wandering in the next realm. I'm still thinking about what that striped judge said.
I admit, I always love daydreaming. It's what I used to do 90% of the time. Past tense since I can't take the risk of losing my touch with reality. You know, I'll be dreaming the best in my mind, then suddenly, BAM, I'm dead.
Still, "all up to my imagination". Maybe he's talking about my methods. My strategy?
"Erykah, focus." I said. "Do you not see what's happening around you, stupid?"
I did it again. I got lost in my thoughts. When will you learn?
My usual self-argument caused me to look around. This new place... This new realm.... It felt.... different.
'Let Me Try Again' - Zombie storyIt was a fair day at WestSide.
The birds were singing, the sun was shining and there was a hungry mob of biters coming to eat me.
Gee, what a perfect day, hm?
I was running for my life. I've passed through several houses but none were efficient of getting me out of this predicament.
How long had I been running? 10... 15 minutes? It was getting ridiculous.
I was sweaty, tired and overall.... Hungry.
I know what you're thinking. 'There are zombies here. She must be insane right about now.' Well, you're wrong.
But I am about to be dead in a few more seconds.
I turned to the nearest alleyway I could find, hoping to escape the carnivores from my track. But to my luck, the turn led me to a dead end. Panting for breath, I felt something loom over me. Maybe it's a biter....
Out of nowhere, cold hands pushed me in the compound. I fell to my behind on the hard, dirty asphalt below me.
I looked up to find my previous point of entry to be closed and locked with chains and a padlock. The person who
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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