proper words were heard. This startled the zombie. “Brrrrrrr,” it moaned.
A large array of creepy crawlies fell onto the grass, forming piles when the monster moved. The animal sniffed the recently fallen, scattering insects, but made no attempt to bark, or alert its owner to the intruder lurking in the garden. The dog’s behaviour was weird. Bruno would always acknowledge a stranger’s presence to its owner and sometimes went as far as showing fangs to them, but not this time. The animal definitely identified the creature as still being human. It looked beyond the body mutilation to see the old lady who’d fed it scraps from her kitchen.
The monster bent down, presumably to stroke the dog, so, with tail wagging in an excited fashion, the Doberman sat, ready for the dead woman’s hand to touch its fur. It panted and whimpered in an increasingly pleasurable way, but was Bruno going to taste those oven-baked biscuits again?
Both sets of eyes connected as the zombie’s hand touched the animal’s neck. Bruno was in for a major shock as the zombie’s bony fingers tightened rapidly around its throat. There was no reaction, no retaliation, and no biting to come from the animal. Even whilst choking, Bruno never thought that this innocent, frail old lady would hurt it on purpose. The zombie’s hand squeezed tighter as Bruno’s eyes remained focused. The dog seemed to be hypnotized. It wasn’t because it mistook this thing as being Vincent’s mother it was because the pet was under a spell that it wasn’t able to escape from.
A breathless squeal escaped from the animal’s mouth. The poor dog’s tongue rolled out to its maximum length while its eyes clouded over for the last time. Bruno let out one final breath. The dog’s eyeballs rotated backwards, turning white before its body collapsed in a heap.
The zombie stared at the animal for a few seconds as flashbacks from the past cluttered up its vision. It wasn’t just Bruno who remembered something, but the desire to feed sucked up the good memories, replacing them with horrible, cruel, new thoughts. The evil side was here again. This beast had to, needed to taste flesh, and that’s what it was going to do.
The animal’s head was lifted. The monster tore flesh and fur from the neck, but after a quick chew spat the pieces out again. Its facial expression indicated that maybe animal meat wasn’t the best of choices to fulfil its desires. For this hunger to stop yearning, a human had to die very soon.
The zombie turned, facing the house, but did it actually know where it was? Or was it just instinct?
Inside the house, Mary had finished tidying up and was sitting watching Trisha on the television. It was one of her favourite programs so all daily activities would come to a halt as soon as it was on. It would take something major to happen before she left her seat at this time.
The zombie sluggishly walked to the edge of the garden. It noticed the tool Vincent had left lying on the ground, the rainrusted blade on the Stanley-knife still showing. Fascinated, the creature reached down and picked it up, turning it around in its scrawny, right hand. As it did so, a sadistic, twisted smile was produced. It made its way to the house where it found the door unlocked. It was very easy to open, as the catch was broken. The mother-in-law brushed against the door handle, released the catch and slowly entered the kitchen. Its eyes constantly scanned everything in the room, but after a few seconds, the redness around the pupils glowed bright with rage. The zombie wasn’t happy at the décor surrounding the newly designed kitchen. This was proof that the female way of thinking was still there, somewhere. Suddenly, the creature’s eyes stopped scanning, locking onto the door separating the kitchen from the living room. The zombie moved toward it.
Mary was none the wiser to what was happening in the next room, but that changed when she heard something fall from one of the
A large array of creepy crawlies fell onto the grass, forming piles when the monster moved. The animal sniffed the recently fallen, scattering insects, but made no attempt to bark, or alert its owner to the intruder lurking in the garden. The dog’s behaviour was weird. Bruno would always acknowledge a stranger’s presence to its owner and sometimes went as far as showing fangs to them, but not this time. The animal definitely identified the creature as still being human. It looked beyond the body mutilation to see the old lady who’d fed it scraps from her kitchen.
The monster bent down, presumably to stroke the dog, so, with tail wagging in an excited fashion, the Doberman sat, ready for the dead woman’s hand to touch its fur. It panted and whimpered in an increasingly pleasurable way, but was Bruno going to taste those oven-baked biscuits again?
Both sets of eyes connected as the zombie’s hand touched the animal’s neck. Bruno was in for a major shock as the zombie’s bony fingers tightened rapidly around its throat. There was no reaction, no retaliation, and no biting to come from the animal. Even whilst choking, Bruno never thought that this innocent, frail old lady would hurt it on purpose. The zombie’s hand squeezed tighter as Bruno’s eyes remained focused. The dog seemed to be hypnotized. It wasn’t because it mistook this thing as being Vincent’s mother it was because the pet was under a spell that it wasn’t able to escape from.
A breathless squeal escaped from the animal’s mouth. The poor dog’s tongue rolled out to its maximum length while its eyes clouded over for the last time. Bruno let out one final breath. The dog’s eyeballs rotated backwards, turning white before its body collapsed in a heap.
The zombie stared at the animal for a few seconds as flashbacks from the past cluttered up its vision. It wasn’t just Bruno who remembered something, but the desire to feed sucked up the good memories, replacing them with horrible, cruel, new thoughts. The evil side was here again. This beast had to, needed to taste flesh, and that’s what it was going to do.
The animal’s head was lifted. The monster tore flesh and fur from the neck, but after a quick chew spat the pieces out again. Its facial expression indicated that maybe animal meat wasn’t the best of choices to fulfil its desires. For this hunger to stop yearning, a human had to die very soon.
The zombie turned, facing the house, but did it actually know where it was? Or was it just instinct?
Inside the house, Mary had finished tidying up and was sitting watching Trisha on the television. It was one of her favourite programs so all daily activities would come to a halt as soon as it was on. It would take something major to happen before she left her seat at this time.
The zombie sluggishly walked to the edge of the garden. It noticed the tool Vincent had left lying on the ground, the rainrusted blade on the Stanley-knife still showing. Fascinated, the creature reached down and picked it up, turning it around in its scrawny, right hand. As it did so, a sadistic, twisted smile was produced. It made its way to the house where it found the door unlocked. It was very easy to open, as the catch was broken. The mother-in-law brushed against the door handle, released the catch and slowly entered the kitchen. Its eyes constantly scanned everything in the room, but after a few seconds, the redness around the pupils glowed bright with rage. The zombie wasn’t happy at the décor surrounding the newly designed kitchen. This was proof that the female way of thinking was still there, somewhere. Suddenly, the creature’s eyes stopped scanning, locking onto the door separating the kitchen from the living room. The zombie moved toward it.
Mary was none the wiser to what was happening in the next room, but that changed when she heard something fall from one of the
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