The Hoard

Those damn meat sacks - they did it again. They put down another two of the newly enlightened. We all have to eat; the hunger is too driving. On top of that ever driving need, now a tracking band of meat has started cutting us down. They just don’t understand. We try to tell them: to guide them, but all they do is grunt, stab, and kill. One even tried to get me today but the heart shaped locket of my own meat sack days tangled in its arm, raring from me the last vestiges of my past now forgotten. The trinket that now lays open where it was ripped from me, a smiling group of two large and two small meat sacks: a vestige of something once so familiar, now a relic unrecognizable. The artifact remained ignored, overshadowed by the fact that I had saved that horrid meat sack that tried to end me.

Grateful are we all that we can save them, and as they are reborn to our ways we strengthen. They go from angry killers, to productive members with just a small bit of work. Sad it is to see them before the change: from bitterness and fear to blissful hunger. They can’t see till we show them what joy it is to be blissful and unfearful themselves finally. In the end of course every meat sack will grow and become enlightened. Why do they resist it so? It just makes no sense. For every one we now enlighten, they put down four of us; lessening us as a collective even though they will all be one of us sooner or later. 

I remember the start of my awakening it was just ten rises of the shining ball ago. Before then I don’t care to recall. Why bother with before when now is so much more. Since then I have seen our numbers grow. New enlightened join us giving us first life then all there being. This is the Utopia, we are all equal: all have common goals and wants. We are the future - we are what all will be, and yet they fight. They attempt to hold back the progress of this great new entity. They try to starve us and cut us down, yet they are the lesser than:  needing of help and guidance. I yearn for their addition to the group. I don’t hold them accountable, for they are ignorant of the joys they are pushing off. 

So I continue in my work, my sacred work to add them to the fold, as we all do.  We are all of a single mind in this: convert the meat sacks and give them the bliss of a new, unhampered life. 

I watch them at times, behind their jailed gates. Fearful all the time, fighting between themselves; almost as much as the fight with us. Animals they are, some not even fit for food so it seems by how they act. Why fear us? All we want is to include them: make them a part of the bigger growing community. They should fear themselves more than us. They are almost a better clergy then we for our cause. For each one we convert two are converted for there own greed and infighting. Their actions force them to accept us, to close their eyes and dream our bigger dream. We are their saviours from themselves. 

So we move forward, never faltering or weeping for our fallen, for we have the truth on our side. The overpowering need to help, to free the meat sacks' souls from their unyielding heavy lives. 

Will they thank us? No. Will they offer themselves to the group for the betterment of all? Again, no. They need to be forced. Their lives are so burdened with horror and hatred, but instead of embracing the simpler life we offer they object: cowering from freedom. 

Someday we will help them all. Even if against their will, we shall help them be free.

From the thoughts of the once Noah B. Smith, zombie turned 6/28/2022. Born anew, baptized by blood into the army of angels, and as his namesake Noah before him shall the earth be once again washed clean...