Thursday, July 26, 2012

Chapter 4: I Am Legend

I'm the worst fan of horror movies. I love watching them but i don't really watch them. 90% of the time, i just either cover my eyes and peek through the gap between my fingers or I simply fast forward the whole movie and skip all the scary scenes to get it over and done with.

On the other hand, my wife is the best fan of this genre. She literally begs me to find copies of her fave films (the shining, the exorcist, and all Asian horror movies) and then charms her way into forcing me to watch them with her. Her passion for this stuff is so strong that she bribes me with tons of pasta just to make sure that I fulfill her longing for all things creepy.

The remaining 10% is when I actually enjoy scary films; no skipped scenes, no screaming, no fake bathroom breaks. This usually happens when I watch Zombie flicks. Or in this case, tv shows of the undead.

The Walking Dead falls on the category of shows that you binge-watch during your rest days. There's just something about its story that draws you in. Some may disagree but I do believe that the TV adaptation is a bit better than its comic book counterpart (I read all of them) The story is more fluent and the suspense is more thrilling. My wife unsurprisingly loves it, too. In fact, she now loves me by a tenfold just because I watch it with her. 


It was eerily dark in the movie house that day. On my lips were blemishes of red and on my lap were sliced flesh and ground meat. As moans of the undead filled the air, my heart desperately tried to keep up with the pace of its own beat. Beside me was a woman with bloodied silverware in her hands. Chillingly enjoying the moment, her stare was spine-tingling and her voice sent shivers from my nape to my toes.

Trapped in that moment, I looked back at those days when all I simply wanted was to catch a glimpse of her smile. I should have been satisfied with that. If I only knew that scaring the hell out me was in her books then I should have stayed at home instead. Her twisted sense of a fun time wasn't part of the persona that she projected.

Mislead by her charm, I had no choice but to succumb to her sadistic desires. It was either a horror movie or there was no first date.

On the big screen was a man holding a grenade with a number of zombies trying to break the glass barrier between them. Sacrificing himself to save others, he pulled the pin and died after a few minutes.

On my seat was a man eating the spaghetti that she brought. Sharing the same fork and container, his heart paused for a brief moment after the movie ended.

And that..
was how..


I became less scared of zombies.

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