There is a movie theater that I attend regularly, the main rows are slanted and the rows against the left side of the theater are lined with bar stools and tables higher than comfort permits. I run into some old friends, an old admirer that never let go, and a couple that I can't say I relish in seeing. The movie begins, and within a few minutes of the roll of film, the screen breaks off into black spots and the film reel has torn the production into pieces. A unified moan erupts from the group, and we are all escorted into the main lobby for delays.
I fixate my eyes on a janitorial door, teal and beaten along the edges of its steel exterior. In the background, the banter of my old friends plays as an encouraging murmur to pursue my curious mind. I know this door, I've seen it many times. Everyone is laughing, I turn around to survey the room, and in a singular moment, I am not present. Haven't you ever felt the same? Where the room swirls about you in a heated rush and you realize that you've been alone all along? I place my hand on the steel door; It's colder than I remember, ice cold.
It's unlocked.
The knob of the door quickly releases the moment I direct my attention to the second door, nearly a foot away from the first steel door. I'm not surprised by it's absurd location, in contrast it is of an old wood texture, similar the the front door of a rustic cabin, except parts of it remain splinting and the door has been pushed beyond its frame. I push the door awkwardly against its natural structure and manage only to move it several inches beyond its original swing from the hinges. I squeeze through and recognize the corresponding hallway, flickering with fluorescent lights, and a multitude of broken furniture piled against the wall. Suddenly the sound of running feet against the cement floor approaches me. A young girl with her the lower half of her hair shaven reaches for my arm, "You've taken too long..." Without question, I don't bother asking her name, at the moment I can't bring it to mind, but I trust her and follow without hesitation.
After turning almost every existing corner in the building, we reach an elevator. This place is desolate and seems to serve absolutely no purpose. I attempt to recount how many turns we took, or navigate my route to return. Instead I rub my sweating palms with the tips of my fingers and observe my unknown friend beginning from the ground up. She's wearing platform shoes, these things Rockabillies used to refer to as Creepers, along with two layers of unnecessarily ripped fishnets in the colors of red and black. Her plaid skirt is almost entirely covered by what looks like an old boyfriend's torn Nekromantix band t-shirt, and by the time I reach her face, which has been mouthing the words to a song that she is quietly singing to herself, she smiles. She's snapping her fingers to a beat I knew a long time ago, and she raspily laughs at my obvious observation, "You seem uneasier than usual. Is it my new threads?" "It's just something I would have experienced with in high school maybe," I replied. "Rhonda and I scored this new VDub bus, you'll love it. It came packed with a drag queens dream wardrobe and three rifles, one which I'm sure will bring you back to the old stomping ground."
The elevator rings in its arrival.
The electricity is buzzing, and by now at the second ring as the elevator opens its door, I've already forgotten my attempts to remember where I am. Again, there are multitudes of broken furniture as we exit, and the girl breaks off the last remaining leg of a dining room table with a nail stuck protruding from the tip. She smugly smiles to herself and says,"Ah, last one." At that very moment, a woman with mangled blonde hair silently drags her feet from behind the pile of furniture. Her eyes have sunken into her pale rotting skin, and her mouth is salivating with blood. I am mute, utterly speechless and I am unconsciously walking backwards into a wall pointing behind my nameless friend. In one swift motion she swings the leg of the table directly into the temple of the zombie and she shakes the creature off with the edge of her new platformed shoes like a flimsy piece of toilet paper. She looks at me concerned, "What? Don't act like you haven't owned the place, sweetheart." She turns to run down the hall, and in fear I yell, "Wait!... Please, I need some time to pull myself together, I don't know where I am." The nameless girl tosses her hair to one side, exposing her shaven head and replies, "You're in your old stomping grounds sweetie, and you've been gone far too long." She grabs my arm once more, and I break away to keep up with her pace. We reach a similar teal steel door, with what looks to be dented from bullets shot from the opposing side. The girl stops for a moment prior to opening the door and bluntly says, "Look, the shit you saw back there isn't anything you haven't seen before, so you better get yourself together now or escort yourself back to that waste of a shitland you were spending your time in earlier." I nod, mostly because I don't even remember how the hell to get back to the theater and secondly, because I can't help but admit this is more exciting than anything I've done in the past five years. She smiles again, a face I'm beginning to become quite fond of, "Look alive, darling," and she swings the door open for me.
A woman with a brightly pink boa feathered scarf jolts up from the sunroof of a Volkswagon bus and screams, "My love! You've returned so soon! I hope you would enjoy a cup of tea along with a fashion consultation, because your outfit is the sorriest piece of material I have ever laid eyes on." I look back at the nameless girl, who has nodded in consent and follows behind me. The woman hurries to the sliding door of the van and greets me with a hug, "I trust that Violet has escorted you violently?" The girl, which I now know as Violet broke in, "We met an old friend in the hallway, this one is a little shook up." "Strange," said the woman, "it's not like you haven't owned the place." I laugh, frankly because I don't know what in the world these people are talking about and lastly I want to cut crap and get straight to the point. "Violet says you have a rifle for me. If we see any of those things again, I want something of my own" I reply. "Yes, yes! Of course, of course...follow me," the lively woman says as I step into the bus. The bus is decked out in loads of gaudy clothing, almost as if a Vegas spewed the entire show casts clothing from the 1970's. The woman is digging through a pile of hats and scarves, throwing them behind her and tossing them in every other direction. "Ah! Here we are!" she presents the rifle to me like it is the holy grail, delicately holding the barrel with her two forefingers. "What the fuck am I going to do with a .22, daisy kind of do fucking rifle?" I stare at the woman infuriated, and her reaction is not nearly as reassuring as I would have liked it to be. "Why, there you are! Welcome home, my love! Mouth filthy as ever!" she replies. In an excited rush, she scurries over to the front of the bus and above the drivers seat she presses the button of a garage door opener. "You'll be glad to re-visit your pets!"
As the garage door opens, I can see the stationary feet moving, some with a broken ankle limping and pressing against the slowly opening garage door. Violet slides open the bus door and pushes me out with her. I nearly drop the rifle in awe, Violet nudges my shoulder harshly and says, "Don't worry, I've seen you use that thing like it was a multi-tool." Three of the creatures began to enter the garage, Violet still holding onto the table leg as if it were a bat looks back at me and says, "I'll let you have first pick!" I can't move, my feet feel as if they were cemented into the ground, I can feel Violets eyes continuously peering back at me waiting for my move. Impatient, she abruptly swings at the first creature hitting its lower jaw. She attempts to remove her weapon as cleanly as before but rips the creatures jaw from its sockets. The creature, with only its upper set of rotting teeth continues at Violet and she swings again hitting it dead center between the eyes. I look around the garage to find the other two creatures, and see only one directly headed my way. I've regained the control of my feet now, and I turn around to meet the dead eyes of another creature against the wall. Before I can think, I shove the barrel of my rifle into the eye of creature and shoot twice into its skull. The barrel removes swiftly, I slide it from the head of the creature and turn around to be confronted by the other that had initially set its sullen eyes on me. I shoot from afar and my hits fly straight through the chest and do not stunt the creature for one minor second. Violet runs to the bus and slides the door shut, leaving me with the creature dragging its hungry body nearer. As it approaches within close contact I grab my rifle by the barrel, crouch to the floor and swing the buttstock to the only functional ankle of the creature. With a loud crack, its ankle breaks and the creature collapses to the floor. With its arms still grabbing at me, I swing the rifle at alternating shoulder blades repetitiously until the the brittle bones are severed and empty my entire load of ammo into the forefront of the creatures head. My rifle is covered in complete mush, and dripping in velvet colored blood. I look down at myself, disgusted in remnant flesh that is covered all over my clothing. Finally, I look up, dropping my empty rifle to see the horizon blackened by the dead closing in.
I awake, panicked. My palms sweating and my hands tingling from being asleep. It is 4:46am.
