The night before Doomsday

Twas the night before Doomsday,
and through Raccoon City,
The buildings were empty,
and the undead were twitchy.

The limbs were hung,
From the streets with no care.
the blood was dripping.
The virus was there.

I moved through the streets,
meeting crimsons and greens.
Dogs, crows and people.
Legs, arms and spleens.

Their minds were destroyed;
they moaned, cried and howled.
Their hunger for living
Was hellish and foul.

Armed with my handgun,
my herbs and my wits.
Killing more and more mutants,
blowing monsters to bits.

When up on a rooftop
I saw, in surprise,
a shadowy figure,
slowly climbing the side.

His head was hung low,
not a hair to be found,
and the blood of his victims
was awash on the ground.

He was dressed in a trench coat,
soulless and tall.
With a launcher in hand,
he burst into the wall.

His weapon held high,
he began his attack.
With no mercy or regret.
No fatigue or slack.

And I knew as I watched him,
I was next on his list,
as I ran, through the darkness,
followed by Nemesis.


I actually did not write this. Last year, a good friend of mine was in a major Resident Evil obsessed phase and wrote this. I just recently discovered it on my computer and I asked him permission to post it, since he doesn't have an account.

The only thing I DID write was the second paragraph. All my idea. :D

Review!! :D

-CeleBaby20, aka Star