Necro Terrorist PART 2

Necro-terrorist

(PART 2)

(Originally published in Trisickle Magazine, 2011)

I keep expecting to wake up…

…Slide out of bed on a trail of my own sweat…

…Grope around for a light switch to beat away the hideous shadow that’s been cast across the face of the world…

But I never do wake up.

*pauses for dramatic effect*

We have these morsels cornered – two unpopular teachers from my school.

Mr Garitty and Mr Phelps

Well, I say “we”, I’M not really doing anything besides watching. I’ve been relegated to the back of the group, not that I have any desire to be at the vanguard. I’ve yet to completely abandon my dignity and sense of moral self.

Yes, I think now’s as good a time as any to seize the ethical high ground!

There are 3 primary desires of the recently undead – nourishment, sex and television. The casual zombie has no other hidden layer, no buried facet where all their sensitive, vulnerable and knowledge-thirsty components are situated…only surface aspiration.

  They’ve all lunged at the human feast knocking over garbage cans and making some of the most obscene chewing noises I think I’ve ever heard. I can only see a bare human leg sticking out, calf flexed, ankle drawn tight.

I’m feeling a little left out. My strongest social response is to succumb to crowd politics.

Before I know what’s what, we’re eating them both alive.

Their screams are awful and arousing.

Garitty and Phelps both tastes a lot like failure

Mmhmmm….

My mother still finds time to fret when I don’t chew properly – you can’t spell “smother” without “mother” I suppose. In a way it’s comforting to know that some things never change… rather like women in some respects.

Now wait just a sec here!

I’m not a misogynist, I don’t hate all women. In fact, you could say with a certain confidence that I love most women. But given that my experiences with the opposite sex have proved gratuitously bloodier than an early David Cronenberg film and as complicated as an Egyptian Sudoku puzzle – you can perhaps forgive these apprehensions of mine.

It should be noted for posterity that zombies have no sense of decency either. So you can probably imagine the foul hybrid that is…

…A FEMALE ZOMBIE

As indecisive as she is cruel and blood thirsty…shrill, moody and in possession of an alluring beauty…loving, maternal…hateful and twisted…

Casting my eye over the wasted town, I catch sight of Deborah and Skull Smasher Zombie acting out an elaborate oral sex routine. They’ve wrapped themselves in a lotus position, naked in semi-foetal glory for all to see.  

Deborah is sluiced in sweat and viscera. Skull Smasher Zombie kneads all her bony contours with his fingertips.

Then, true to his title, Skull Smasher punches Deborah’s head clean off.

It’s all very sudden, very unnecessary and I’m sure if my moral centre hadn’t been so dulled of late, it would be a thoroughly shocking scene to behold. But as it happens my moral centre has been dulled. I’m an abomination remember, just like everyone else?

Debs is dead (again)…

Oh well

A teardrop of semen bled from the eye of Skull Smasher’s penis as he gazed down at Deborah’s twitching, headless body.

Bet she wishes she’d stayed with me now, eh?