Dade Freeman
Photographer & Trainer
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Beach of the Dead 2012

When there is no more room in Hell, the dead shall walk the earth. Brighton seems like a good place to start.

The clouds were dark and ominous, there was a chill in the air and something just 'felt' wrong. As I walked along the promenade in picturesque Brighton, I could see a mass of people in the distance. I thought for a moment I heard screaming, but over the sound of the music playing in my headphones it was hard to tell. Assuming there might be something worth photographing, I got out my camera, put my head down and worked out my camera settings as I strolled along.

What was that?! I could have sworn a man covered in blood just rushed by! It couldn't have been. I looked around, nothing. I continued onward. As I walked through the dark tunnel of the under-passage, the hairs on my neck suddenly rose. The smell of ... something foul, rotten, an odour I was unfamiliar with hit my nostrils. My gag reflex threatened to take over, but I quickened my pace and moved on, even though the odour lingered in my nasal cavity for longer than I would have liked, like an unwelcome visitor. Towards the end of the tunnel, I had to slow down behind a poor man with a nasty infliction. Not wanting to be rude I averted my gaze and made my way around him. I glanced over my shoulder, and I saw his face - ashen, and with the most piercing eyes I have ever seen. I stumbled and hit the deck. Picking myself up, I dusted my trousers off and checked my camera. All seemed fine apart from the fact that it was covered in ... ketchup?! Really! Some people! Why don't they use the bins and look after our cities? Wiping the ketchup off, I looked over again to where I had seen the mass of people - the group was even larger now.

My pace (and my heart) quickened. I had thought my eyes were playing tricks on me but I could see quite clearly now, even though my head could still not comprehend what my eyes were seeing. My heart was now racing, almost breaking through my chest, and my feet carried me even faster towards the onslaught just ahead of me. Was this it - The End of the World?

I raised my camera to take a snap of what was ahead, not only to see if it was real, but so there was proof, evidence, a record, if you will, of what was taking place. The sheer horror of ravenous cannibalism, as passers-by, dogs and shopkeepers were set upon by the hoards of the undead. I picked them off with my camera, like a sniper. Feeling secure in my high vantage point, I settled myself in, not realising that what I had actually done was corner myself. As the daylight dimmed even more, my camera's flash 'helpfully' came into play, and POP! A burst of light shone out from my location. Almost in sync, the zombies stopped, looked directly into the darkness where I sat, their eyes searching, piercing the blackness, then suddenly shuffled towards me, arms outstretched, and moaning. I had just managed to get hold of the railing above me to pull myself up, when I felt a hand grab my ankle! I kicked frantically, but the number of the hands pulling at me grew, I lost my grip and I fell into the mass of evil as their hands ripped at my flesh, I begged to die.

My camera will act as my last Will and Testament and I leave you these images so you will be prepared - the last thing I heard was that next year they are coming in even greater numbers, and they're coming for YOU!

Link to the official website - Beach of the Dead

https://www.flickr.com/photos/dade_f/sets/72157631820565661/show