Posts Tagged ‘Grimmsgate’

Surviving

September 22, 2009

Still here. Hand’s throbbing like mad though; each pulse seems to travel right through into my head, and when my heart rate is high (which is all the time, now) it pounds so badly it’s hard to think straight.

Just took off the bandages and damn…  the scratches look grim. Least of my worries though; there are sounds of gunfire outside today. I think somebody might be trying to escape the city. Good luck to them.

The moans… it’d be fine if it weren’t for the sodding moans. They’re not getting in, I’ve made sure of that, (at least, it does me good to think it) but I can’t get out either, so neither me or them are winners in this situation.

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They Are Walking

September 20, 2009

The day before yesterday, they tore my neighbour apart.

Can’t type much, need to be on my guard – there’s a group of them outside in the street. I haven’t had any lights on for the past three days, and in the evening gloom, the glow of the monitor is a spotlight. Sound is also an issue; not dared turn on the taps since it started either, and never mind flushing the toilet. Their incessant moans are loud, and they might not notice… but it’s not worth finding out.

It happened so suddenly. I was in the city centre when things really kicked off, and one minute everything was quiet, the next there were so many. Everywhere. They weren’t even moving quickly; they were just there. The streets were carnage within minutes.

It took me an hour to get back from the centre of town, and I only even made it this far with the help of – bizarrely – the local shop keeper who sells me overpriced Indian readymeals.

Sold, I suppose.

I ran into him in the panic, and he pointed out a back-street, blocked by a crashed ambulance, that lead back in the direction of Grimmsgate, and for a good ten minutes of winding through back gardens we were mercifully free of the chaos that the screams echoing around us were reporting.

I didn’t see the woman fall from the balcony, until it was too late. There was a gutteral noise, a rush of of foul-smelling air, and a sack of skin and teeth was upon the shop keeper (I don’t even know what his name was…) before I could react. Within seconds there was blood everywhere, and he was yelling at me to run. So I ran, and ran, until I found myself slamming against the reassuring solidity of my front door.

So here I am. Three days later. My housemate hasn’t turned up, so I can only assume he… no, got to stay positive. Hopefully he found somewhere to hole up. The University maybe.

For anyone reading this : Hell has come to Grimmsgate. Stay away from Leicester, I think it’s too late for us. I only hope this isn’t happening anywhere else.

This morning, I watched my neighbour’s ragged torso dragging itself down the street.

Bad Parking

September 13, 2009

I’ve been away in Cheltenham for the weekend, and returned this evening to find, after being subjected to a load of security checks at the railway station (?!), that some kind of city-wide curfew has been put in place. Obviously it’s got something to do with the recent outbreaks of violence and what-have-you, but that’s all anyone seems to know. It hasn’t been implemented well at all; a lot of people (myself included) had never even heard of it until it was in effect. There are still plenty of cars on the road though, and from what I could see, I’d guess that with the state of the streets and lack of buses (which seem to have stopped running), people have started to carpool more, as I didn’t see many empty seats.

It was as I made my way back home, through the local park, that something happened to change things. I’m looking at this city under a twisted new light tonight.

Victoria Park (as it is known) used to be a horse-racing circuit, so that might give you some idea about the size of the thing. Anyway, because of this, the lamp posts are scattered thinly among the trees and winding pathways, and, in all honesty, walking across it at night is generally not the wisest of things to do at the best of times, never mind with all the strange stuff going on here recently. But it was late, I wanted to get home, etc. etc., so I set off over the grass.

I was almost exactly half-way across when an asian chap jumped out from the gloom, right at me. He must have been hiding behind a bush nearby, because he just stumbled right out in front of me, arms outstretched and mouth gaping as if he was yawning… it made for a pretty chilling sight, and one hell of a nasty shock. Then there was the smell – be glad that text is a scentless medium, that’s all I’m saying…

Anyhow, I wasn’t taking any chances, so skirted round him. It was a close thing, as the path was narrow, but he was slow in turning and I was past before his arms tould snag me. It was time enough, however, to get a fairly good look at his face. God help me. His eyes were covered with a milky film, and they were as vacant as any blind man’s. His skin was spattered with blood, a dark brown freckling in the dim light, and the bones in his jaw made a gristly grinding sound as I passed him and broke into a sprint.

He began to follow.

As I ran, it occured that, of course, I had my phone on me, complete with camera function. Wanting to capture a picture of my grim assailant, I yanked it out of my coat pocket and took some shots behind me as I ran, not looking back myself. This is the only one that came out anywhere near decent:

IMG_2747203

I’m sorry to say the quality is shite, but you’ll have to cut me some slack on that one 😉 By the time I reached the main road, and had careered over to the other side, I finally gained the courage to look behind me. There was no sign of him, or anything else out of the ordinary.

Now, back in the safety of my own home, there’s a word playing across my mind. I barely want to acknowledge its presence in my wonderings as being even slightly accurate, and it’s probably a result of watching lots of horror movies /playing one too many computer games, but all the same…

Seven Days, Seven Nights, Seven Deadly Sins…

September 11, 2009

It’s been a busy week.

I was in York for a few days as my parents were over from Chicago, and had a fantastic time. Upon returning to Farndale Close, however, things seem only to have gotten worse since I was away. Vandalism’s becoming almost commonplace; I wake up to find windows are smashed constantly, and there was blood on our front gate this morning. I don’t know if it’s domestic violence spilling out onto the streets, student fights getting out of hand or what; I just see the occasional ragged-looking individual staggering along, bashing on the windows of parked cars, that sort of thing. I stay well away.

This evening, after days of ringing doorbells to no avail, I finally caught a neighbour hurrying back into their house. White as a  frightened sheet, he just said that ‘people are crazy’. I asked him what he meant, but at that moment there was a crashing sound from inside his house, and he pushed me away. Before I could say or do anything, he had withdrawn from the porch and slammed the door shut. Of course, I knocked to see if everything was okay, but there was no reply… At any rate, the crashing sounds stopped soon after, and a few moments later I retreated back into my own house, and have not gone back round since.

Cowardly? Perhaps. But you don’t know what it’s like here. I feel afraid to expose my back to the open street, and I don’t know why. A leaflet came through the door this morning from, I presume, the local church, sporting the cheery message – GOD IS JUDGING US ALL.  DO YOU KNOW YOUR SINS?

Well, me and my sins all get along famously, thankyou. Here’s a round up of this week’s:

Gluttony – The few days up in York with the ‘rents was one of food, booze, food and more booze. Loved it.

Greed – Even though I have a perfectly good, newly bought phone, I want an iPhone. I have a 24″ monitor, but I want an HD television, even though I barely watch any telly. The list goes on…

Envy – Oh yeah, I’m full of that stuff. Who isn’t? I wish I had as much money as him, I deserve it more, etc. etc.

Pride – I don’t really see why this is a deadly sin. Pride in excess, I suppose it means. Well, I’m probably overly proud of my writing, but I think it deserves it. Oh… yep… there we go!

Sloth – But I don’t write as often as I should at the moment.

Lust – Seeing Thi tomorrow for the first time in two weeks. Missed her a lot. Can be forgiven a bit of Lust, methinks.

Wrath – My least-used sin. But I’m pissed off at the council, for ‘forgetting’ about my claims trying to retrieve the £900 that they paid into someone else’s bank account. Useless!

Anyway, enough about me; how about you? Are there any secret sins sizzling silently in your soul?

Freshers’ Weakness

August 30, 2009

My birthday was brilliant 😀 Spent a wonderful couple of days with Thi, generally chilled out…

samsung_s5600_white…and got myself some new technology! The phone’s like a budget i-Phone equivalent really, but still a huge step up from my old one, and I’m a sucker for useless features that I can mess around with for a week and then never use again, which it has plenty of, so I’m happy 😉

On the downside, the scratches on my hand still haven’t healed properly, and the itching has progressed to a deep throbbing. Thankfully, if I concentrate I can mentally push it down to a place where I can ignore it, but it gets worse and harder to ignore whenever I go outside. Amber asked what the deal was with the police over on the DM campus last week, and I wish I knew, but no-one seems to have a clue except for the police themselves who just tell me, with expressionless stares, to go home whenever I ask them what’s been going on. Very dull.

See, it’s supposed to be ‘Fresher’s Week’ at the moment, when all the new students are starting uni, but it seems to be an unnervingly low-key event this year. All the bars are closing around nine every night, the few people who are milling around the streets are keeping their eyes down, walking fast and not stopping to talk, and  I’ve noticed a lot of flower bouquets scattered around campus, which is unusual to say the least – with DeMontfort it’s usually litter and empty beer-bottles!

Something’s definitely amiss…

A Tale of Two Uni’s

August 25, 2009

Typing this entry out one-handed, so it might be a bit shaky. Why? Read on…

Here in Leicester there are two universities; The University of Leicester (which I went to) and DeMontfort University. The latter used to be a polytechnic and was upgraded to uni status, so there’s a healthy mock/hate rivalry between the two.

The house I live in is deep, deep inside enemy territory; with the DM campus itself only five minutes down the road, the surrounding area consists almost entirely of DeMontfort students, so whenever the inter-uni events start and the ‘Leicester Uni is scum’ posters start going up in the windows of surrounding houses, it always feels prudent to keep one’s head down. I’ll leave the ‘your dad works for my dad’ chants to the people attending the rugby matches.

Anyhow, the nearest cash point to the house is outside their student union, so every now and again an expedition into the belly of the beast has to be made. Today was one such day.

Or evening, to be precise. The DeMontfort campus is not a pretty sight once the sun sets, and the ‘Demon’ part of its name begins to come into effect. Rabbles of students emerge from the murkier corners, perhaps even dragging themselves out of the cracks in the pavement itself, to roam the streets outside their student union.

In the midst of this horde is the cash machine.

As I paced towards it however, something caught my eye. Sitting on the concrete steps that lead up to the union was a blonde girl, hunched over, with a puddle of nasty looking vomit upon the ground in front of her.

Lovely, I thought, having skirted past, and keyed in my pin-number. Ten pounds.

As I waited for the growling machine to produce my grocery money, I cast another look at the girl. She was mumbling to herself, and did look in a bit of a bad way. I folded the note, shoved it and my card into my pocket, and went over.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

No response. Her head hung low so I couldn’t make eye-contact, instead having to make do with staring at the poorly-dyed roots of her hair. I reached down to pat her on the shoulder and ask if she had any friends nearby.

The girl snarled angrily, swatting my hand away, and I felt a sharp scratch across the palm of my hand. Shocked, I took a step back and noticed, to my disgust, that her long, fake nails were caked with reddish vomit.

Well; that was enough of that. Maybe she could tell that I was not one of ‘her kind’, so to speak. In any case, I wasn’t about to risk getting clawed at again so, unsettled, I left her to it and came back home. Next time I’m definitely going to the cash machine in town.

And those damn scratches are really starting to itch.

Grimmsgate In Decline

August 23, 2009

Found a copy of our local newsletter kicking around the street outside this afternoon when I was leaving for a run. Hmm. Scanned in the front page so you can see just how bad things are getting around here:

Grimmsgate Gazette Scan

Wondering

August 22, 2009

Thi (Liv) has been singing in York Minster Cathedral today, back in my home city… very, very cool. It’s crazy how the last time I knew her she was organising and performing in college shows, and now she’s touring round Europe singing in places like Notre Dame. But then, what else would you expect from such a spectacularly amazing person?

Precisely.

(Oh I know, I’ve fallen head over heels and then some… here’s hoping I can be spectacular enough for her. But enough with the ‘proper’ blogging! What is this, romance confessionals? I do apologise 😉 )

Venturing out this morning, the house across the cul-de-sac’s front door looks a tad worse-for-wear, and someone (more than likely yesterday’s impromptu karaoke star) must’ve forgotten their keys, as the downstairs bathroom window-pane looks as if someone tried to force it open.

Hmm, or maybe there are burglars in the area, which is a worrying thought. There were a load of police officers around a few weeks back asking if I’d seen suspicious types hanging around, as someone had smashed number six’s kitchen window in and tried to fumble around for whatever they could reach. Fortunately, whoever it was must have been disturbed as nothing was actually taken.

Thinking back, I have to say I was impressed by such a large police turnout for a mere broken window, though we did get a leaflet through the door not long afterwards about the force wanting an ‘increased community presence’ and all that. The lower Grimmsgate area is no longer the quiet, peaceful place it was when I first arrived here four years ago, that’s for sure…

Pavement Pavarotti

August 22, 2009

Taking me ages to get to sleep tonight.

And seeing as I’ve been awake, I’ve been treated to the sounds of someone crashing and stumbling about the cul-de-sac outside. Alas – one of the downsides of living near two universities – the guy must have been fresh from the Zanzibar club or Student Union bar, as much to my dismay, for the last hour or so he’s also been trying to sing. At least, I think that’s the overall effect he was aiming for, but sadly for him and my sleepless self, his peace-shattering ditty only managed one note. Over and over again, drawn out tunelessly… some trance choon, no doubt. Even ‘Summer of 69’ or that Baywatch song would have been preferable to the monotonous droning. Anyway, thankfully it has tailed off now, around 3.20 am, so let’s see if I can get some shuteye!