It was like an out-take from The Walking Dead on a recent October afternoon downtown, the kind of ghoulish spectacle that in one fell swoop could make Pandora Avenue seem like Elm Street of horror movie fame.
That鈥檚 where the grisly fun began as a creepy contingent of zombies, masked maniacs, blood-spurting clowns inspired by Stephen King鈥檚 horror classic It and other creatures spilled out of Centennial Square.
It was the start of yet another Victoria Zombie Walk, the annual event that gives hundreds of Halloween junkies a (severed) head start on the scary season by dressing up as characters in your worst nightmare.
Stephanie Rahl, whose freaky facade as a zombified woman with a bloody gash in her neck, bulging eyes and rotting teeth made her a dead sexy standout, explained its appeal.
鈥淚 really like the makeup aspect. I think [transforming yourself into a zombie] is also something a little off-putting, like that 鈥榰ncanny valley鈥� thing,鈥� she said.
She was referring to the 鈥渄ip鈥� felt by someone whose initially positive response to an artificial character that bears an eerie resemblance to a human being can turn into revulsion.
鈥淲hen you see a zombie in real life it鈥檚 still kind of creepy and gross. I think people want to engage with that, but I think they are also afraid of it,鈥� said Rahl, marking her eighth year of participation in the event that began as a flash mob. For the past six years it has been organized by Umbrella Corp. West Coast Operations.
The local not-for-profit costume-play group raises funds for Child鈥檚 Play, the Redmond, Washington-based charitable organization that donates toys and games to children鈥檚 hospitals around the world.
Wielding a chainsaw while impersonating Army of Darkness warrior Ash Williams, Wade McAllister said taking part in the Zombie Walk was an ideal way to celebrate his 36th birthday.
鈥淚 spent a week building this up. It moved and made noise but the electronics got fried last night,鈥� he said, showing off his chainsaw made of plastic and 鈥渙ther stuff I cobbled together鈥� to make it look like the reel deal.
Organizer Chris Barlow, 29, said the charity that takes its title from the Resident Evil video games discouraged participants from bringing fake weaponry, but the event has taken on a life of its own.
鈥淲e want to make it as inclusive as possible,鈥� said Barlow, dressed in black as a zombie response team member and accompanied by Azula, his friendly Rottweiler-Shepherd cross.
鈥淥ur goal was to make this Victoria鈥檚 main Halloween event.鈥�
Indeed, the crowd of 700, shadowed by shutterbugs at every turn, included participants of all ages and a plethora of dogs, including a border collie dragging a fake, bloodied severed hand from the end of its leash.
For many, it was a family affair. Cheryl Welsh, 34, smiled at her six-year-old daughter Jesse, who got into the act wearing a matching white biohazard suit with a pink Sewage Backup sticker on her backside.
鈥淚t shows how creative people can be when they do their makeup,鈥� said Welsh, also accompanied by friend Schadelee Allie, 31, and Allie鈥檚 children 鈥� Noah, 11, and daughter Savannah, 7, all dressed for the part.
鈥淲e go to have fun, get into the Halloween spirit and I want to make sure that by the time it comes that my kids are not afraid of Halloween,鈥� she said.
After playing dead and lurching through the streets of Victoria, diehards got the chance to watch screenings of George A. Romero鈥檚 Night of the Living Dead trilogy at the Roxy.
