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Quote from Jerome at http://zombieforum.net/
<div class='quotetop'>("Jerome")</div><div class='quotemain'>This is an email I got from someone I will not name. He had stated some where on here that he knew for a fact Zombies are real. I contacted him asking "ok how do you know?" and the following is the email he sent.
::Disclaimer:: Don't ask me to reveal who this is from. I am not revealing it as per his request.
This is the story about my encounter with a "zombie". I put zombie in quotations only because I'm assuming that that is what I saw that day. And, I do mean zombie as in "George Romero zombie". That is, a corpse that has come to life with a hunger for human flesh. I know it sounds crazy and I bet your saying to yourself, "Wow, this guy is a case" and "What!? Zombies aren't real! This is some fake shit right here!" Those are logical reactions, I know. But, if what I saw that day wasn't a zombie, then I don't know what else it could have been.
Back in August of 2003, I was living in Houston,Texas. I had a friend who had, a week before, been in a pretty crazy car accident. He was holed up at St. Joe's medical facility and I had been coming to see him regularly throughout the week. There was nothing strange about this hospital. It's about what one would expect when it comes to a hospital. But that day something odd was going on. I had weird vibes all around me as soon as i got out of my car.
There were two Army trucks parked near the main entrance. One was a classic Humvee, while the other was one of those large transport trucks. They were both backed into the parking spaces, their engines were idling, and they were both occupied by drivers as if they would be ready to launch from the parking spaces at any moment. As I walked passed the two trucks, I noticed a lot of "official" looking people, like feds or something, hanging out outside the main entry. A few were talking on cell phones while others were smoking cigarettes and/or looking menacing.
I continued to walk through this strange sight with the strangest feeling of being watched. The doors slid open for me and I continued on through the lobby passing the front desk. One of the ladies behind the desk told me that I couldn't go into the south hall of level 2. My friend was located in the north hall in room 222.
After my encounter with the lady at the front desk, I turned toward the elevator doors located half way down the hallway. I remember thinking to myself, "So I couldn't be in the south hall? What? Why did they stop me like that? " This was my fourth time to visit my friend and both times before had been smooth sailing up to his room.
Anyway, so I got to the elevator and got in. Just before the door shut, one of those "official" guys ran up to keep the door from shutting. Five more of those guys joined me on the elevator. I moved myself to the corner and found myself quite nervous of them. One of them had asked me which floor I was headed to and he pushed the button. It seemed like the longest elevator ride of my life. These guys were silent towers hovering over me. Finally, the door opened and they exited left. I exited right. I continued on to my friends room and looked back just in time to see them turn a corner.
I got to my friends room and told him about the weird things going on. He agreed that it had been a strange day for him as well. Apparently, that morning, one of the nurses had left the door to his room open after checking on him. At one point, he heard someone yell, "Come here!" and then a group of "official looking" guys came running down the hall passing his room almost knocking over some poor nurse who happened to be walking by at the same time. An hour later after that he said that one of those men came into his room and looked around for about five minutes without saying a word. About ten minutes later, one of the nurses came in and told him that there was a possibility that they would have to move him to another floor in a different room. When asked why, she told him that there was some sort of "renovation problem". Whatever that means, right?
After hanging out for a bit, I decided to leave. When I got back to the elevator I suddenly had a moment of curiosity. So I kept walking. I headed in the same direction those guys went after I got off the elevator on the way up. As I got closer to the corner, the one I saw them go around, I heard some sort of commotion going on. I remember thinking that I probably shouldn't be going down here. I wish to this day that I had stopped and went back. But I kept going.
I remember turning the corner and everything seeming to go in slow motion. I had stopped in my tracks, eyes wide, jaw dropped because I couldn't believe what i was seeing. There in front of me, maybe about four doors down, on the floor was a patient, whose back was turned to me, hunched over the body of another man who was lying on his back in a pool of blood. Circling around these two figures on the floor, were three "officials" steadily and carefully keeping there distance. They didn't notice me standing there until my cell phone went off. I snapped out of it and looked down at my pant pocket. I looked up. Not only were the "officials" staring at me, but so was the person who had been hunched over the bloody body. I'll never forget what that "person" looked like. It's eyes were colorless...black almost. It's pale face looked tired and worn. In it's mouth was a fleshy piece of human, bloody and dripping. I peed my pants.
One of the men yelled for me to leave. I stood there motionless, until, from behind two men grabbed me. They pulled me backwards away from that frightening scene and dragged me back to the elevator.
One of them told me to go home as they shoved me into the elevator.
Just as the door shut, one of them pulled out a walkie-talkie device and shouted into it, "Shut this floor down!"
I remember sitting down on the floor of the elevator replaying what just happened over and over. All I could think about was it's face. It's cold, dead eyes staring at me. I didn't even realize that the elevator had moved it's way down to level one. The doors slid open and more of those official guys were there. They picked me up to my feet and escorted me to the door. I remember one of the men telling me to have a good day! Ha, can you believe that?!
As I got into my car, four unmarked white minivans came rushing towards the entrance. Needless to say, I left there in a bit of a hurry. I wasn't about to stick around. As I drove away from the parking lot, a fire truck whizzed by me. Pulling out my cell phone, I realized I had a missed call from my friend in the hospital. I called him.
I asked him if everything was alright and if he could see or hear anything. The door to his room was shut but he could hear some yelling and commotion. I almost told him what I had seen but I stopped because I had realized that he wouldn't believe what I had seen. No one would. The "officials" probably knew that. If I was the only "civilian" witness to this they could let me go with no problem. No one would believe what I had seen. That's why they didn't try to "debrief" me. That's why they just sent me on my way. Nothing here to see. Keep moving.
Later, that night I watched the local news and national news to see if anybody would report the story. It never came. What did come was much more damning. Yet, it didn't surprise me at all. The story the authorities released to the media had something to do with some poor doc who got his head sliced off by a malfunctioning elevator! Here's the archived story from CNN.
A couple days after the incident, I went to visit my friend again. I remember the feeling I had as I returned and walked through the hospital doors. This time there were no "officials" around. The lady at the front desk told me that the second floor was closed for "renovations" and that my friend had been moved to a different room on a different floor. When I found him, I told him about the zombie. Of course, he didn't believe me. I kept going on and on about it until I realized that I was making him uncomfortable, so I just dropped it. Before I left the hospital that day, I stopped by the front desk and talked to the two ladies there. I had told them that I had heard about the "incident" in the news and that I was sorry. I then asked if they had known the doctor who got his head sliced off. They said they didn't. They said they didn't even know the elevator was screwed up because people used it all day long that day.
and that's my story. what do you think? other than "uh, dude, your crazy.".</div>
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