VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Samir Karimo

Zombie

Nothing is as before.

 Since that fateful day people have gone crazy. I’m not saying it became, but it has become, which means that those events continue to affect our present.

I have received one last mission, to cross the portal and spread the temporary powder.

But how?.

Before continuing with this story I must tell you who I am. i They just call me Zombie.

They say that due to that polluted air the dead left the tombs and the living flesh entered, seeking shelter. The vampires, yeah, I have a vampireskan rib, since they no longer had necks to tear out living beings began to engage in sadomasochistic carnal relations with the dead, and in one of those I was born. They say that this hybridity could be a divine sign and who knows how to take advantage of blood types could lead to the creation of the vaccine and the terraplanation-reedenization of our lovely planet.

 They say, according to the legends, that my father, Count BAITAL comes from the past and that my mother, Lilith, from the future and by chance accidentally met in this parallel world.

 Parallel world? What do you say?

Yes, no one knows indeed in what world we live. As if this were not enough, Human Carnage, YES, NO LONGER EXISTS THAT NORMAL HUMANITY, also has relations not only with virtual dolls but also with COVERED, people who hide their true wishes and faces behind a three-dimensional chip and wears a mask virtual condom that serves as a wall of protection against diseases.

They say that having these relationships can serve to better heal from contamination virulent left by THAT DISEASE.

But back to the present, I’m being chased by a pharmaceutical corrupt who wants to do scientific experiments with me but ,I won’t let him.

Only Count Frankie, a friend of my parents, can analyze me bodily. So after a lot of mathematical, quantum, temporal, with eceddy chain and backscatter equations I found that it was a divine creature, something like a messiah and that I was destined to save Humanity.

My blood was special and if well synthesized would heal all. To do this I had to cross this portal.

But how to do it?

 I had to divide my body into several parts and gather back here when everything was perfect.

Well I’m going to start cutting my veins, behead myself. Extract teeth. And with a petroleum cocktail I will spit my essence in the time flow. This gasoline is made from skulls and mortal remains of the cannibals opposed to the revolution and new world order….

Published by Mike Zone

Mike Zone is the former Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press and managing editor of Concrete Mist Press. The author of Screaming in the End: Poems and Stories, Fuck You: A Fucking Poetry Chap, Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse , as well as coauthor of The Grind and Razorville. A frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Black Shamrock Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, and Cult Culture magazine.

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