#christmaszombies

[bandori-names]

sweet home ayabama, where the skies are so fuwa fuwa

[catloafer]

christmaszombies replied to your photo “this just in: gay people aren’t allowed to be excited about seeing gay...”

how dare the gays be excited for the gay representation we get in 0.00001% of any media

lol us gays sure are wild

[tygnewton]

christmaszombies replied to your post “idk about other scots but my family are like weirdly obsessed with...”

my dad just chaps the door and we ignore him

aw no does he not even pass round a drink? first footing is like, the best tradition cause its the only time im sure people will be happy when they answer the door to me

[takemehomefromnarnia]

sign me up for the newcastle show on oct 27th. cheers.

And all done. Cheers back for wanting to raise your voice for the LGBTQ+ community

[upirdown-blog]

The Walking Dead Christmas

zombies go by several names "geek" is one they're known by "roamers" don't play Christmas games run fast so you don't die "walker" here and "walker" there flee if you like living find some ammo you can share Christmastime's for giving

[bellydeep]

The Hunger

My winter white hands cry out with hunger as I reach forward and stumble into a kitchen. I’m not sure where I am. It’s as if I woke from a dream while I was sleep-walking. The first thing I see is a rainbow shaped magnet on the refrigerator with the name Gloria scripted across it. Was that my name? Gloria? I’m puzzled by the fact that the magnet isn’t colorful, but mere shades of gray just like the rest of the room.

I open my mouth to call out to see if I’m alone. My voice, if you could even call it that, has turned into wordless moans. My body seems weighed down by more than my somewhat small bone structure. I'm emotionless, foggy and so confused. I’m confused about everything except – the hunger.

I can feel my entire body ache. It’s source not just in my stomach, but in every bone; aching, thrashing, breaking, from my feet up to my knees, hips, chest, shoulders and then it hits my head. I thrash through cabinets and pull down the pots and pans creating noises so loud they penetrate me with irritation. Anger fills my body like steaming black coffee and just when I think I can’t stand my painful existence anymore, I hear a scream from the other room and I realize what I’m hungry for. My mind is racing faster than my body can move. I bust through the swinging door leading into a decorative living room. I can only assume the stockings that are hung by the fireplace are red with a snowy white top. A tall tree stands confidently in the corner, but scurrying to the front door is a panic-stricken woman.

She looks familiar, but it does not matter.

I begin to lose control to satisfy my hunger. I lunge at the helpless prey and begin ripping and shredding, flesh over flesh. The taste made my pain subside and it lifts the overwhelming weight off of my body. This makes me feel alive, if only for a few seconds, and it is over as quickly as it was started. As my hunger settles for the moment, glimpses of past images invade my mind. I see a young girl, no more than five years old, opening Christmas presents with me. A flash of light makes me squint as if the sun violently hit my eyes. I see the same girl hanging up a red and white stocking with the name Gloria on it, written in sparkles.

Thirty seven years of memories rush through my mind in less than a second. I realize that Gloria, once was, my sister.

Before I can give it a second thought, I hear a scream outside. The pain, so sharp, strikes my body so hard that my neck snaps back and I let out a thundery moan. My mouth begins to salivate as I swing open the front door and expose myself to the dark night.