|S. WINchester (i_speaklatin) wrote in we_coexist,|
@ 2008-11-11 15:54:00
|Entry tags:||angel, dean winchester, sam winchester, zombies|
And you thought zombie was a metaphor. [Open, see note. Attn: Dean/Xanadu?]
Demon blood infected a human body in much the same way a virus did. It took over some things and warped others, changing the mind and its capabilities with a decidedly inhuman potency. No one knew if it affected the soul or not, but it was impossible not to see what a small amount of demon blood could do to a human--and what, in turn, that human could do to demons. That virus made angels quake, and it was something that no mortal or immortal being understood completely.
The virus that killed Sam was something else. It was, in some ways, more potent than the demon blood. It moved quicker and inhibited action rather than encouraged it. However, being dead did not stop Sam from being part demon. Indeed, the two viruses warred with each other in such a way that the thing that had been Sam Winchester was now a thing apart. It did not have identity. Being dead, it did not have memory, either. However, it had something its fellows did not.
Those others did not truly have a consciousness (if one followed the Cogito ergo sum theory: I think, therefore I am) because those zombies did not think. Instead, they hungered. To go from point A to point B, they would follow a straight line until stopped, be it through rivers, over obstacles, into buildings, ad nauseam. The thing that used to be Sam Winchester also hungered, but it hungered so much more that it was willing to wait, to focus, until the demon and the virus wanted the same thing.
A glazed, dead eye turned and watched the black car speed away without recognition. The other eye did not move, stained with red and half closed. Cracked blood caked that side of its face, and colorful smears of blue imprinted the edge of its mouth into a permanent sneer. Slowly but implacably, the form limped forward. Its right leg did not work like its left, but that did not matter as long as it, as a whole, could move forward. It followed the black burnt rubber trail of the car, and when that ran out, it kept going, lurching, dragging, forward and on, following a trail that the hunger made bright and tempting.
There were others too. They did not follow him or the trail. Instead, they moved as water, going where the buildings separated into spaces and stopping when they were blocked to flow around or over. They came after the first thing because its path was the easiest.
The thing that had been Sam Winchester did not go around. It would not be blocked. It went through. An abandoned car lay askew in the road before it, and as the thing limped forward, the car screeched aside as if shoved by a giant invisible hand. Sparks flew from the friction of metal on pavement and singed the torn jacket on the thing's back. A flame caught, and it burned one jacket sleeve to ash in moments. Without warning, the flames went out, choked of oxygen in one potent shift of focus. Smoke curled up from the thing's charred arm and chest. It did not notice.
Now an instrument of simple and pure demonic purpose, it continued forward, hungry.
[OOC Note: This can be open, just don't completely destroy Sam in the physical way, please. Be aware this zombie is both relatively intelligent and telekinetic; he's got lots of other zombies with him, even if they aren't choreographed. xD]