The Irish

I fucked up…

I fucked up bad. Never thought it would end up like this…

But first; look. So I don’t do that thing where I drop you off in the shit and you have no idea what’s going on:

Allow me to do the lame explaining part.

Remember: I’m warning you first. Yo can’t say I didn’t… this shit’s kinda fucked up, so hang on.

This is a story about how I fell in love with my psychotic prison life in the worst hell imaginable.

One made out of latex and lost hope.

This is a story about a loser.

Did you really come here for award winning prose? Fuck off.

Back to my explaining.

Latex Land was my prison.

The worst kind.

About twenty years ago a bio-weapon… thing… came flying from deep space. It was like a big bio-hack. A planet fucking trojan horse or something. It slammed down in the middle of the Midwest, another in parts of Russia, and a third up in Canada’s no man’s land. Everywhere it got cold.

It hit just down the road from that theater I used to go to as a kid.

People called it The Ready. I don’t know why.

Everybody on TV said it looked like some frozen rock from a far off moon.

Oort cloud something or other. I don’t even know what an Oort is. I’m a drop out.

Soon as it started to burn the ice started to crack. It blotted out the sky for miles and left an absolutely disgusting, filthy stink in the air.

People couldn’t stop vomiting.

Even though they evacuated days, hell, weeks before, the smell made it all the way down to Indianapolis before it started to let up.

Watching on TV in horror as goo splashed down and started to consume. A thawed out, crawling, oozing goo that stripped flesh from bones and turned the raw material into zombie like creatures.

With no teeth.

It didn’t seem to work on humans. It just infected us.

A horrible, slow death of bio-tendrils growing through your body. Spreading through all of your orifices. Popping your eyeballs from their sockets before eventually suffocating you with a stalk in the throat.

If you didn’t liquify first.

I remember the evacuation alarms when it spread to our fallout zone.

The screaming. The zombie hordes shambling around in moaning pain until they dropped over dead and dissolved into more infectious ooze.

We ran. Me and my family.

My dad?

Gone…

He died bad. Infected when I was eleven.

My mom got trampled when those massive zombie dogs came tear assing through our shelter.

So did my sister.

I always had a small, sporty frame. I did what cowards always do.

I left everything behind and ran until my lungs felt like hot bags in my chest.

Then I ran some more.

You bet I ran my tight little ass into the best shape of my life.

From shelter, to shelter, to shelter.

I got grabbed by the coast guard outside of Indianapolis. We were trying to go south… apparently the goo and the zombies couldn’t take the punishing heat.

You run in packs to survive another day.

The more runners the more your odds.

People got picked off left and right.

But like flipping coins… ten of us made it.

Then five of us.

Then just me.

I was just a kid then. Wandering lost on my own for miles.

Then all the fellowship stopped.

Nobody cared. Nobody trusted anyone.

“Are you infected!? … ARE YOU INFECTED!?”

Grown men yelling in a little girl’s face. I was terrified.

But it was a short lived invasion of the body snatchers.

It’s never like TV, right? Never quite as cool.

Thousands of people died before we realized the way you kill the goo is with simple fucking anti-bacterial cleaner.

Seriously…

My family was killed by aggressive spaghetti mold.

How fucked up is that? Right?

Anyway… that goo spread far and wide. It had pretty much gutted a two state patch of land across Michigan and Indiana.

Notre Dame was gone. Ghost town.

Perdue? Forget about it.

Ever see some old bitch getting nibbled on by a rabid shitzu with tentacles undulating from its body?

Shit was real.

They quarantined the whole area.

Called it The Irish…

But then a bunch scientists got wise and started examining all that left over goo all over the place.

The shit wouldn’t dissolve, it wouldn’t evaporate. It just stayed there. Inert.

All over everything.

Buildings. The street. Houses. Stores…

It was a multi-trillion dollar mess that nobody wanted to be responsible for. And there was one in every northern country in the world save a very few.

It threw the world into financial uproar. Shit got wild. And I mean … wild.

Wasn’t until a couple years later some brainiacs realized the goop had all kinds of modern convenient uses. Mostly chemical.

Once you killed it and made it inert it was one of the most useful lubricants for machine parts the earth had ever seen. You could also make it into smart goo.

At first it was a few intrepid explorers wandering back into The Irish to gather samples. But they started dying.

They started dying a lot.

Big bucks would chase you for miles just to gore you and lap up your blood.

It turned them all into Hemavores, they called it.

It became one of the world’s most dangerous jobs. Goop Harvesting.

These days it was like milk. About five bucks a gallon. With no end of it in sight cus creatures kept shitting and spewing it out everywhere.

Sooner or later the death tole started to climb higher than the cost per gallon was worth.

Then it turned into a job they made prisoners do.

Particularly the sexual deviants and the fuck ups everyone was ashamed of.

My crime?

Look… I’m a virgin, alright?

I never masturbated in my life. The one time I got hot and bothered enough to try, I was in my car in a parking lot I thought was totally fine…

Turns out I’ve got something of a condition. When I get horny I get like… horny-horny. Like ‘brain turns off, do dumb things and say yes to anything’ horny.

Lucky me I felt asexual most of my life.

This one time though…

Fuckin’ ruined my life.

Hands down my pants, rubbing one out, tits out, pleasuring myself in my car in the middle of a slow planet wide apocalypse.

Behind a daycare.

Look! I didn’t know! Alright? I was high as fuck. I’ve always had… “intimacy” issues… I don’t like people touching me. I’m fucked up. I get it.

I grew up a tomboy.

I’m a red-headed, freckled stereotype.

Yeah. They’re blue. Moving on.

Anyway. I got lewded on pretty hard when I was younger so… it just made me not… want that.

But, this guy at my shelter. The one in Indianapolis. He’d been flirting me up for a long while. Telling me I look like a sexy Lucille Ball… Everybody said that to me. Or something like it. Least before I got the title of “Public Sexual Deviant”.

One day he crosses the line. But I liked it-

I know; look. I said I’m fucked up, alright?

Anyway. He crossed the line. Forced his tongue in my mouth.

For a long time.

A long time.

I kissed him back. I was terrible at it. It was awkward.

It was hot.

I never had somebody just… like… I dunno. I never had someone who was that hot just… take it. Want me so bad they would break all the rules.

That’s so wrong to say.

I never… had that happen before. Most guys were just nervous to talk to me and I didn’t know if I wanted them to anyway.

Long story short, I got more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.

Cus I’d never been in my life.

My face felt hot. My neck felt like an oven. My ears were baking. I know my face was so red all my freckles connected. And for the love of God, he had beautiful eyes.

Yeah. Fuckin’ knuckle biter talking to my never-been-anywhere, never-been-kissed, country bumpkin low rent Lucille Ball-self.

Funny how the horrifying truth of fallout made people more bold. Nobody knew if they were living or dying so… made sense he just walked up and planted one on me.

Getting hot was too much for me to handle though.

For you? That’s probably normal. For me?

It hit me like a hot shower in the freezing cold.

I just sorta babbled stupid and hurried up outside.

That’s when I figured out I parked behind a day care.

Mind you: It wasn’t a daycare the month before.

Who the hell is still signing leases during the apocalypse, right!? How was I supposed to know it was full of rugrats when I started self-administering?

Anyway, somebody saw my tits and called it in to the local watch.

I’m not exactly new to getting arrested at this point.

Mostly stealing. And drinking. And vandalism. And being a con artist. And shoplifting. And stealing cars.

Like the one I got caught in.

Remember that tomboy thing? Yeah. I was that type.

Just like countless other kids who turned 18 in state custody.

It didn’t go well for me.

At all.

Judge leveled my repeat offending ass right then and there.

Fucking. Leveled me.

Now I was on a bus bouncing along in my seat on my way to the worst prison in America.

The Irish.

Otherwise known as Latex Land.