Zombie Apocalypse Comes to Toronto 2011

"Twas upon an afternoon dreary, a day unhallowed by any Benevolent Power, unsanctified by any Kind and Loving God, when younger and I did descend the slopes of a swelling summit, where once stood a forest primeval, and a once bubbling brook didst babble, now long buried, unto a once pleasant vale, now a blasted heath, where unspeakable beings roamed freely, having loosed the chains of Dark Death.  It was the day of the Zombie Walk.

Intermingled freely amongst these hideous wretches were ordinary folk of all colours, speaking in many languages and accents, seemingly unaware of the perils they placed themselves as they walked the depths of this vale once pleasant, armed only with their cameras, (some carrying many, as though capturing images would save their brains from the jaws of living death) amongst these creatures new awakened from their Stygian slumber.

These hideous wretches, called forth from their cthonic damnation, their pitiful sorrows doubly doubled that they now walked once again within this vale of tears, didst gibber and moan as they wandered without aim, their arms swinging uselessly, like the pendulums of clocks long broken, as they sought to slake their undead hunger in a feast of living brains.

The dread contagion spread without respect of love or wealth or station in life.  Who can say what unspeakable rites summoned these poor, suffering souls from the kindness of their gentle graves, that called the peaceful dead, still garbed in their burial clothes, now stained with the stench and filth of the crypt, to walk once again amongst the living, or from what old book of forgotten lore such a rite, best forgotten was learned anew? Yea, even those who did live a sanctified life where left unspared by this unliving damnation, this mockery of life.



Even in death, this wimpled nun still cares for her charges, and binds them under the iron discipline of her steel ruler.


So far has spread this vile contagion, this hideous scourge that blasts both the living and the dead, not even Hamburglar and Mayor McCheese- yea, even Ronald himself was struck by it (though Ronald was having a smoke when I took the picture, and therefore is not amongst those he named friends whilst he lived, drew breath, and ate food that was fast.)

And then there was this guy.

In sacred truth, no idea have I of what he was,or whom, but he did appear to my unschooled eyes to be most cool.  A shudder holds me quivering in fear at the mere thought of the terrible curse that must have been laid upon his flesh, and the dark mage deeply learned in the hideous and unspeakable arts who spoke such a malediction.

With my own life did I escape narrowly, though Younger I left behind, and she now counts herself among the undead, as shall be seen this All Hallow's Eve.