Hey everyone; I hope you all had a great July 4th with family and friends!! The hurricane here in Texas decided to give us a break for a day and we got some great weather (although the pool was fucking freezing, which didn’t seem to bother the kids at all). Well I’m gonna be a little self-serving here tonight and post a short story I wrote. About the middle of last month fellow blogger, regular contributor to anythinghorror.com, and friend AutumnForest decided to run a short story contest. The rules were that the stories had to be no longer than 1,000 words (mine came in at 909 words) and they had to be about the same theme: What if the soul of a zombie came back to haunt him. Easy huh? I thought so until I sat down to write it. Well a pot of coffee and zero fingernails later I finished it and was pretty damn happy with it … and apparently so was AutumnForest. I tied for first place with another contributor Grim. So here’s my story and I urge you to check out AutumnForest’s blog at http://autumnforestghosthunter.blogspot.com/ to see Grim’s story and the first 2 runner ups. Here it is; it’s called “Disconnected” and I hope you enjoy it:
“Nietzsche was wrong … ”
That’s one of the only thoughts I have left. With each passing day I can feel my brain slowly decomposing and loosing more and more of it’s “humanity.” To me it feels like whipped egg whites loosing their volume. They slowly dissolve into a puddle. Just like my brain. That’s why I’m writing this down. I don’t know how much longer I have until my brain gives into the virus …
… that fucking virus. It came out of the jungles hard and fast. There wasn’t even an incubation period. If you came in contact with the virus you immediately dropped dead and then hours later you “woke up” and experienced the final transformation into … into what? The “experts” won’t call it what it truly is. We’re zombies. Forget about the movies and the shambling dead. You just don’t wake up to being a zombie. Like life itself, its a process. At first its your skin and hair that go. The lack of blood circulating in your body makes you hair fall out and rot. But it seems that when your humanity was killed, so were the nerve endings. Dying hurt. A lot. Becoming a zombie doesn’t. It only hurts being aware.
After your skin starts to rot off your bones your eye sight starts to go. But what we lose in eye sight we make up in our hearing. It’s amplified. Especially good for hunting. So far my motor skills have stayed the same. I see some of them shuffling along like in the old movies, but I can still run and jump. But for how much longer?
Another thing; I don’t crave human flesh. I’m dead; not hungry. But I have an insatiable drive to infect the others around me who didn’t fall when the virus was airborne. They thought they were safe and immune. No one’s immune from this. I bite to infect; that’s what the bug inside me wants.
There’s not many people left; at least not in my town. I’ve bitten a lot of people. People I know. People I’ve loved. Children, even. It doesn’t matter; in my “mind” the only thing that’s important is the survival of the bug. I don’t know why that’s so important to me, but it means everything.
Part of my mind can still remember “me” before all this happened. Happy. Friendly. In love. Concerned only with happiness of myself and those around me. Not with the survival of some alien bug in me. But recently something’s been happening. I’ve been hearing strange noises everywhere I go. I’ve been seeing things through my deteriorating eyes. Weird things. Scary things. Why am I scared? I’m the monster, aren’t I? I figured these “things” were the result of my rotting brain. But then …
… well then I saw something. I was walking in town looking to propagate my bug when I saw … something. It was hiding(?) in a door way and when James walked by it grabbed him. James was already turned. We don’t bite the one’s already turned. We’re not cannibals. Ever since I saw James disappear I’ve been hearing and seeing things more.
Like I said, “Nietzsche was wrong.” The body and soul aren’t inextricably intertwined in each person. They actually are two separate entities inhabiting the same vessel. I’ve watched too many others disappear into darkened rooms, empty closets, and broken down vehicles. We were the hunters but are now becoming prey for something else …
That bug could instantly kill on contact, but it only killed the body. And it seems in killing the body it released the other part of our equation. It released our souls. Nothing physical can survive the bug. People. Animals. Plants. We all fall. But the same bug that destroyed the world also gave birth to the weapon that can kill it.
I can hear my enemy getting closer. Once it “finds” and hones in on you its just a matter of time. Time I’m out of. My brain is rotting and I’m being hunted by
My soul … my ghost has found my body and is back to cleanse it of the bug. I don’t know how it does it. All I hear are the screams … screams coming from things that don’t experience pain anymore. Maybe its the shock of seeing yourself as a ghost. Maybe its the shock of dying. Again.
All I know is that I’ll find out soon. We took over the world for a while, but now “we’re” coming back to fight the bug.
The body and the soul are two different entities. I still find it hard to believe.
I can hear it. It’s in my home looking for me; using some strange homing device. You only get attacked by your self; never from someone else’s ‘self’.
I can feel the air getting colder against my rotted skin. Its close. No use in running. We’ve already infected the world. Now its our turn.
Its in the room with me. I’m staring at myself. It’s smiling. I’m not. I’m not scared or screaming. Yet. I can see in it’s eyes what it wants. It doesn’t want to cleanse me.
It wants revenge.
It wants revenge on the bug inside me. There’s only one way to get to it. It needs to go through me.
It’s close. I can feel it’s cold hand reaching out for me. I can feel the scream building inside me.
Nietzsche is laughing.