Zombie X (8 page)

“What have you done to me? Have you no shame whatsoever? Have you no forgiveness?”

I show the old man the nail gun and the hammer.

“I never crucified anyone before. I want to try the nail gun and the hammer. I think it would be cool to use the nail gun on your feet. Your feet look like they will be excessively hard to hammer down. I don’t know how they did it back in the old days, but they must have had a hard time without a nail gun. A nail gun seems so much more comfortable. Don’t you agree, Master?”

The old man looks frantic.

“Forgive her Father! She does not know what she does! Please Lord! Stop her now! Stop her Lord of Lords! Do something Lord! Oh God, help me!”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, then I will have to shut you the fuck up!”

I take the nail gun and place it on his feet. His feet are in an unenviable situation. It certainly isn't going to be pretty. I brace myself as I’m about to pull the trigger. I slowly pull the trigger, and the nail gun shoots out a big nail into his feet. The old man squeals at the top of his lungs! His feet are bolted down hard. I fire a second shot at his feet, and I think I heard bones crackle as the nail shot through his feet.

“That was too easy, so I think I will use a hammer to nail your hands to the cross. Should I nail you in the wrists or the hands? I should try both.”

The old man clenches his teeth as he waits for the worst. I place one large nail on his right hand, raise the hammer, and swing down hard, but I accidentally smash his fingers! The old man cries like a girl as I take another swing, and I smash—the nail dead on! It only goes in halfway, but the blood is everywhere as I continue to hammer down. I shouldn’t feel aroused by this, but I do. I finally get the nail all the way in, and I add another nail to be secure as 
I turn to his left hand. I miss the nail on purpose and smash his other fingers. The old man cries in extreme agony as I smash the nail down hard. I use another nail to secure his hand, but I’m not satisfied, so I take the nail gun and shoot down his wrists. I grab my assault rifle as I quickly make my way out. The old man can take a beating. He is still alive, and he looks like he just saw a ghost.

“YOU BITCH! IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO? YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU WILL BURN FOR THIS! YOU ARE WORTHLESS! YOU WILL DIE!”

“Shut your mouth and die!”

The old man gives me a brilliant idea. He should have kept his mouth shut and died in peace. Today he’s going to pass away in pieces. I walk to the back door, and I open the back door to let the zombies inside. The zombies quickly make their way inside the church. The zombies look starving. I quickly make my way to the front door. I stand at the front door, and I watch as the zombies make their way to the old man. The old man watches as the zombies move towards him. It almost seems like they have smiles on their faces. Several zombies make it to the old man. The old man continues to scream. They begin taking large bites out of the old man’s body. They tear the skin off his bones, and blood squirts out as they chew him up. The zombies fight over his bowels. They seem to have a tug of war with his intestines, but the old man is a fighter, and he just refuses to die.

“NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME! I AM THE MASTER! I AM THE MASTER! I AM THE MASTER!”

The old man cries in agony as the zombies are quick with him. The old man is silenced by the zombies. He can’t exactly continue to scream because he has his face munched off, and his body is pillaged. His ribs are ripped open, and there is barely anything left inside his body except for scraps. The zombies are too engaged to notice me as I walk to the front doorway. I work my way out to the car, and I drive off. I should never entrust a human being in uniform again. I wonder if things can get worse. Nothing much surprises me though, these days! I’m on the edge of survival, and I’m fortunate that I’ve come out of this alive.

I can’t let the situation in the church take place again. I should have been more aggressive. I don’t desire to get used inappropriately ever again. I don't want to be anybody's prisoner. I’m embarrassed that I let this happen to me. I let my guard down too soon. What a horrifying nightmare that was. I got revenge, but I still feel humiliated. Revenge can be very sweet sometimes. I need to drive back home and recuperate since I’m a mess. I need to have a warm bath with roses, but I can only fantasize about it. I will have to settle for wiping myself down with a towel.

I question what other screwed up things I will encounter during my journey to obtain serenity. There has to be a way out of this new world. I’m not thinking about suicide because I don’t want to opt-out. There has to be a solution, and I’m going to find the answer. I suppose finding a peaceful place is too much to ask for. I never thought killing someone would be pleasurable. Watching the old man die felt glorious, but my life is still not complete. There is something missing in my life. I know that I’m capable of defending myself.

The new world drives me to push myself. I don’t have much of a choice since I want to survive. Being backed into a corner drives me to do anything to survive. Most people would probably give up and die. I have the will to survive. I want to know what I’m meant to do in this world. I still don’t have the answer, but there has to be something for me out there in the new world. There has to be some meaning to my life. Working in the old world had no meaning, yet some people belong in the new world. I will keep moving forward, and I hope that my life will improve in the new world.

The drive is long, and I love being able to drive way over the speed limit. There is no one to stop me. I notice movement on the road ahead of me. I’m heading towards a horde of zombies, so I slow down. I will not risk driving in the field since I don’t want to get stuck in some hidden hole in the ground. I’m going to take my chances and bash right through them because they can’t stop me. As I push closer, I discover that there are too many zombies. It looks like I’m heading towards hundreds of zombies! I increase my speed to crash through the zombies!

I charge at top speed as the zombies march towards me. I smash—through the horde. My car spins out of control, and I try to gain control of the car while zombie filth is all over the window, and zombies are on the car. The windshield cracks and all I can hear is the aggressive growling of the zombies. The car continues to spin out of control, and I have no idea where the car is going. I’m in the dark, and the car suddenly slows down, so I press on the gas pedal to start doing donuts, and the car quickly spins and smashes dozens of zombies. I try the windshield wiper, but it doesn’t work, though I still have some visibility, and I manage to gain control of the car.

Some of the zombies have detached legs and arms. I stop the car, and I put the car in reverse, but I’m not leaving since I want to bring on the heat. I stay in reverse until I’m clear of the zombies, and I begin to push towards the horde at top velocity. I crash—through the horde, and I lose control of the car. The car spins out of control, and I manage to gain control of the car. I’ve created an unbelievable huge mess. I continue down the road at top speed. The horde is far away from me, and I feel great! That was risky business, but I just had to blow off some steam.

Episode 8

The church was a foul experience. After a while of driving, I finally make it back home, and I’m so exhausted that I could sleep forever. I pass out on my couch. It’s been a few days since the incident at the church. I don’t sleep well since I have aftershocks from being taken captive in the church. I suffer bad dreams, and they will likely occupy me for a while as I recuperate, so I will stay home and regain my mental wellness. I feel degraded, but the old man is dead. The past still haunts my mind.

The nights are long, and I spend the nights drinking whiskey to help the depression go away. There is enough liquor in the house to last me a while. I’m drinking heavily tonight since I have nothing better to do. I’m so hammered, and I try to sing to keep myself entertained. I don’t know what else to do with myself so I will have to go with the flow. I think I’m about to pass out. I need to nap for at least an hour. I will close my eyes now. I suddenly hear a racket outside my home.

I must have been out cold for at least a couple of hours. I have to get up and stretch. I’m wasted out of my mind. I haven't heard a noise outside since I moved into the house. I take a peek through the window, and it looks like a zombie is eating its way through one of the dead bodies on the ground. It is devouring intestines and organs like crazy, and I feel like puking. I don’t want zombies scavenging near my home. Zombies are dirty and probably full of diseases. I want my neighborhood to be free of zombies.
 I will go to sleep and hope that the zombie leaves before the morning arrives. I don’t want to draw any attention to my house. I simply want to be invisible. I don’t know how many more zombies are out there. I prepare for sleep and close my eyes.

The next day arrives; I look outside, and there are no zombies in the area. I will spend the day organizing my food supply and weapons. I could spend the day pleasuring myself. That sounds like a plan for sure. First, I will take care of business before pleasure. The day has gone by faster than I expected. I guess time can fly when you keep yourself busy. The night is here, and it is silent night. The only thing I can hear is my own breathing as I sit on the couch with a couple of candles illuminating the room. I have just enough light in the room that I can’t attract outside attention. I wouldn’t want thousands of zombies scratching at my door.

It is another long night, and I have a bottle of whiskey with me as I relax on the couch. I’m smashed out of my mind, and I feel like vomiting. I hear a noise coming from the outside of my house. I stagger to take a look outside. A zombie is scavenging the area once more. It looks like that same stupid zombie from the other night. It must just come out at dark around here. I wonder where zombies hide during the daytime. This zombie is pissing me off, and I won’t be able to sleep with this fool around my home. I need to stand up to zombies. I slap my own face a couple of times to help psych myself up. I need to sober up fast, but there is not a lot I can do about that. I need to get into attack mode, so I slap my face again. I grab my rifle, the bottle of whiskey, and I open the front door. Being wasted makes me want to do strange things. I know zombies don't talk, but I'm so pissed off that I just want to express what I'm feeling. I just want to let it know how sick I am of zombies. I should tell it how much I hate it, before I blast it to bits. I slowly take several steps and approach it.

“Hey! Yes, you! I’m sick of seeing your kind! You're truly disgusting! Go find another area to spread your filth!”

I would usually pass out from drinking so much, but I’ve gotten used to all the late-night drinking sessions. I take one last chug out of the whiskey bottle, and I throw the bottle at the zombie. The bottle shatters on the ground beside the zombie. The zombie suddenly stops and stands up. It looks around and slowly turns in my direction. It looks right at me. I giggle at it. There’s something different about this zombie. It doesn’t appear as grotesque as the other zombies. It's such an unusual thing. It’s kind of handsome for a young dead guy. It’s really tall and athletic as a quarterback. Its hair is dark and short. Its eyes are sky blue, with traces of blood red. It wears dirty pants, steel toe shoes, and a torn long sleeve shirt. It has a cool tattoo on its left hand. The tattoo is still visible considering the discoloration of its dead skin. It has several ear piercings on one ear. What the heck am I thinking? Drinking is really screwing with my head. I must be going crazy again. It’s a zombie!

I’m wasted, and I think that I’m seeing things. I need to wake the fuck up right now. I take a deep breath. The zombie has all kinds of cuts on the face. It has a small chunk of skin torn from its neck. I’m not sure why the dead walk the earth, but I have theories. This was such a bad idea. I always seem to pick the wrong nights to get hammered. It growls and approaches me with its arms raised. I raise my rifle, and I’m ready to shoot it in the head, but my rifle jams! The zombie doesn’t run, but it walks very fast. I walk backwards, and I quickly make my way to the front door. I’m nauseous, and I feel my legs wobble. I trip and fall, hitting the ground hard. My rifle flies—out of my hands! I stand up and quickly limp to the front door. I manage to get inside my house, but the zombie catches up to the front door. I try to push the front door closed, but the zombie is too strong. The zombie shoves the front door open, and I fall to the floor! It growls at me, and it grabs me while I’m on the floor!

“Get your creepy hands off me!”

I try to hold it back with both arms, but it tries to take a bite out of my neck! It opens its slimy mouth and moves closer! I can’t hold it back any longer since it’s too strong for me! I scream at the top of my lungs as it makes its way to my neck with its slimy mouth open!

The zombie licks the side of my face, and I can’t force it off me! I try to catch my breath, and I have a moment of relief since I realize that the zombie is not trying to kill me. It seems to enjoy the taste of my skin, but it has no intention of eating my flesh, and the zombie feels warm. It finally gets off of me, stands up, looks down at me, and groans. I wipe the filth off my face, and it truly smells like crap. I think I’ve encountered a retarded zombie! Holy shit, right?

I stand up, slowly, and my ankle hurts badly! I point outside to show it that there’s plenty of dead flesh for it to eat, but it looks back at me with an evil smile. It comes towards me again, but I began backing slowly away, and it probably won't kill me since it would have killed me by now. It backs me into a corner, yet I won’t try to stop it because I don’t want to get it mad. I just want to know what it wants.

This zombie must have feelings. It hisses at me, grabs me, forces me to face the wall, and it leans on me from behind, and I’m afraid to turn around and face it. I take deep breaths to try to calm down. This zombie can think for itself, but this whole thing is going way too far. I can’t believe what is happening. I must be dreaming right now. This is so crazy. We do the unthinkable! I continue to try to calm myself down, but it’s not easy to calm down.

I’ve never been used this good before, and I love this unusual experience. As long as I don`t have to look at it in the face, it’s all good. It’s fast for a dead guy, and it has a lot of energy. I turn to face it, and the dead guy looks at me with a nasty smile as it comes closer to me. I don't bother to resist its advances as it comes closer to my face, and I notice how foul its mouth is. This is a huge turn off. The dead guy has extremely bad hygiene, but it’s not like a dentist can do anything. Its breath is exceptionally foul, and it smells like someone shit in its mouth!

The dead guy’s mouth is crusty with a couple of boils and cuts around it. It opens its mouth, as if it wants to kiss me. The inside of its mouth looks rotten. The inside of its mouth looks blue, black, and slimy. It puts its face close to mine, and it groans as it comes closer to my lips. Its lips touch mine, and I move aside to vomit! The vomit rushes out of my mouth, and I get chunks of vomit in my nose. I continue to vomit, and I seriously feel like shit. The dead guy makes its way to where I puked, and it has the nerve to pick up my thick yellow vomit. The dead guy starts to eat—my puke! I go to another corner and start to vomit again! This is truly sickening. I’m furious at the dead guy!

“No! No! No! That’s not food! Stop that! You’re disgusting! Stop it!”

What the heck am I thinking? I’m arguing with a dead guy! I’m tired of calling it a dead guy. Hours have passed by since my encounter with this dead guy. It stands above me as I sit on the couch. I’m baffled by my experience. The dead guy is lucky that I’m wasted since I don’t know how I would have reacted if I were sober. It took advantage of me while I was under the influence, and I’m still processing everything that happened. I think I’m done with drinking for a while. I don’t even know how to classify this dead guy.

The dead guy is some sort of being. I’m not sure if it really is a zombie. Zombies don’t do the things it does. The dead guy looks similar to a zombie, but I don’t want to call the dead guy a zombie. I think the dead guy is human enough that the dead guy deserves a name. I will start off by acknowledging the dead guy as a person. I wonder what I should name him. There are many names that I can think of. The dead guy is dozens of levels up from the average zombie. It seems to have some personality. I take a deep breath. He is clever. Some things are still functioning inside him. He might still be in the process of slowly becoming a full-blown zombie. It shouldn’t be hard to come up with a name for him.

“You certainly know how to please a girl. Obviously, you don’t speak. Well, what’s your name? Can you at least spell it out for me? No, I guess you can’t. You need a name. I’m not sure what to call you. Don’t worry, I will think of something. I don’t see your I.D. with you. Your pockets are all empty. Well, you seem pretty normal for a dead guy. It’s true. Compared to some people I knew, you seem normal to me. Do you know what normal means? That’s it! I know what I should call you. I’m going to call you Norman.”

Norman looks at me and groans. He stinks like ass. I should try to wash him up. I wonder if that will help. I should find a fresh scented body spray for Norman.

“I know you understand me in there. Why else would you do me? You seemed to enjoy it. What is up with that evil smile of yours? It’s kind of creepy.”

He gets closer to me, and he’s trying to kiss me, but he’s a little too aggressive. I demand him to stop, but he overpowers me. He opens his mouth, and his tongue looks like frog skin. He forces his mouth on mine, and I have no choice, but to go along with it. Who knows what will happen if I try to stop Norman because he’s obviously a total freak. Being kissed by Norman is everyone's worst nightmare. I love doing the unthinkable with him, but kissing him is another story. I try not to vomit. I show Norman to the couch. I try to get him to sit down on the couch, so I take his hand and bring him down with me. It's certainly not an easy task. He is about to sit, but then moves back up. He sits down with me after a few tries.

He looks at me and growls. I wonder what will happen next. I think he's just phenomenal. There’s no way he’s going to eat me. We seem to have an instant connection. The chemistry is powerful, and I want to keep Norman safe. I’ve never encountered anything like Norman. I consider him a true friend. I want Norman to be my partner in crime. In the new world, pickings are slim. I wonder how often he needs to eat. I’m sure he can survive a while without feasting on people. It’s very late, and I’m exhausted. Norman probably doesn’t need to catch some Z's. The first night together should be a learning experience. Tomorrow is going to be a really long day. I should sleep and get my strength back. I rest on the couch.

Norman stands next to me while I’m on the couch. He starts hissing and growling. I tell him to shut the fuck up, and I tell him that I’m not dead. I explain to him that I need to rest as he stands above me. He is like a bodyguard. I hope he stays silent because I want to be able to finally get some sleep. I finally close my eyes, but Norman continues to rumble, and he just seems to annoy me when I shut my eyes. I beg Norman to shut the fuck up, and he seems to understand me. I finally get Norman to shut the fuck up, so I can finally sleep in peace.