[EDITOR’S NOTE: This is a piece of opinion and satire. Cool? -ed]
The horde is closing in and you are desperate.
Your pursuers used to be human, they used to be your friends and loved ones, but something has transformed them into mindless, violent beasts. Your heart races. You want to cry, but you’re too dehydrated to spare the tears.
Resources are low. Morale is non-existent. You wonder how society deteriorated into this barren, dangerous hellscape so quickly. You remember a world that used to make sense, a world with laws and order and kindness. But that world is a distant memory now, and you’re no longer entirely certain it wasn’t just a fever dream.
The horde is closing in, but you keep running — stumbling, picking yourself up, pressing forward in hopes of salvation. You know that fighting is futile, that the madness will soon consume you, the same way it consumed the others, and you will become just another soulless shell, fueled by base instincts and appetite.
No, this isn’t the end of the world. It isn’t Fear the Walking Dead‘s zombie apocalypse.
It’s not quite as bad as all that. But it’s close — especially considering that you paid $500 just for this nightmarish experience.You can try begging God for mercy, but he abandoned you a long time ago. Because you are at Coachella. And Kings of Leon are on the main stage in 48 minutes.