The Tree of Liberty


The Tree of Liberty


It had been two weeks since it started, these two weeks that stretched to infinity. At first, there was panic in the halls of Congress, that our civilization was going to come to an end. We were wrong.

The saying that someone would "spin in their graves" implied that something was such an affront that our ancestors would rather flip over than face the shame of it.

If only it were just that.

It seems that they spun so much that they came completely out of their graves.

Two weeks ago, in Virginia and Pennsylvania, the dead rose from the silent earth and marched on Washington, clad in colonial uniforms, with ghostly pipers following the ranks.

Thousands of doomsday preppers cried bitter tears when the undead horde shuffled past, completely ignoring them as they headed towards the capitol without so much as a moan in their direction.

After the first week of siege, the undead had shattered the governmental, first taking out the National Guard,  crushing the army as it arrived, then devouring the members of Congress that had been trapped there during the initial attack.

The public was naturally panicked to see the walking dead among them, but since they craved only the sweet, sweet brains of Politicos, it seemed wiser to let them continue unmolested.

On the dawn of the second week, something changed. Although the undead now essentially controlled Capitol Hill, they had ceased drifting at random, and started shambling in formation, patrolling the streets, now armed inexplicably with muskets.

That's when they arrived. The media, excited, swarmed in to capture the moment for all to see.

The air was still, and as these majestic figures passed, the surrounding zombies lost their slouched and unstable posture, and stood ramrod straight at attention. The lead figure, unmistakable in countenance, slowly nodded to the cameras as he passed, leading four equally distinguished personages behind him.

As they made their way to sixteen-hundred Pennsylvania avenue, the media and curious crowds that had gathered following behind timidly, until they arrived at the gates of the White House, where a podium had been erected. The lead figure took his place at the podium, and nodded to his entourage nearby.

The crowd was silent as he looked over the crowd, nodding to himself he cleared his voice and delivered the speech.

Now we all live, under the watchful eyes of the founding fathers, content to know that our freedoms will never be encroached upon again by those who would abuse the power that we have given them. Our laws have been reworked to place them back in line with the framers' original goals.

We live in a land of dignity and respect where none dare trample our rights, hiding behind laws made not to protect our citizens, but to exploit and control them.


May General Washington watch over us, ever more.