Gruesomely Grimm Zombie Tales Part 5

So they climbed the hill, and because of the hot sun blazing overhead, they stayed all day. Now it's hard to say if it was because they were enjoying the relatively undisturbed privacy that allowed them to get a little frisky without being overheard or disturbed, but they didn't take to the idea of walking home until it was late in the day. The young man found a rickshaw cart in the garage and rigged it to a bicycle.

When he was finished, the young woman said, "It looks like your legs are in for their second workout of the day."

"Don't make me laugh," said the young man. "I'd sooner walk home. I'm willing to sit back in the cart, but pedal the bike?oh no! Nothing doing."

As they were arguing, a middle-aged woman came along. "You thieves!" she wailed. "Who let you into my house? Who said you could eat my food and steal my belongings?" She shrugged out of her pack and drew her machete. "Just wait! I'll make you pay for this!"

With that she lunged at the young man, slas.h.i.+ng the air where he'd just been standing before he leaped back and away. The young man wasn't a slouch as a fighter, nor was he above hitting a woman who came at him with a blade. He fought back, and with a sharp right cross, he laid the woman out. She begged not to be killed, and he agreed as long as the middle-aged woman would pedal the bicycle he'd attached to the cart.

Grabbing their stuff, as well as what they'd looted from the middle-aged woman's house, the young couple was ready to return to their fortified compound. The young man got a few kicks out of yelling for the middle-aged woman to pedal faster.

"Move it, lady," he barked. "Zombies walk faster than that big a.s.s of yours is pedaling."

When they'd gone a little way, they pa.s.sed a pair of emaciated looking zombies who raised their arms and moaned. The young man saw a chance for a bit more fun. He ordered the woman to stop and he piled out of the cart. A moment later he returned, placing the sack containing the two heads on the floor, careful to ensure the top was cinched and that they wouldn't possibly roll out near his feet or the young woman's.

At dusk, they came to what had once been a roadside inn. It had been walled off and offered a safe place to stay for the night. n.o.body liked the idea of travelling in the darkness, and besides, the middle-aged woman's legs were almost unable to go on they had gotten so weak and rubbery. They decided to stop. At first n.o.body came to the gate when they pounded on it. Then, the man living there said he had no place for them to sleep, and hemmed and hawed about taking them in. He didn't particularly like the looks of the young man. There was something about the eyes and his crooked smile that didn't set right. But the young man was a good talker. He promised to give over a generous share of the goods he'd scavenged. Also, he promised to let the guy have the middle-aged woman since he couldn't possibly use them both-if you get my meaning.

"You'll be getting laid every day on the regular, brother," the young man said with a wink.

With that, the old man let them in. He whipped up a re-heated pot of squirrel stew and pa.s.sed around a bottle of his homemade wine. It was actually quite a party.

In the gray of dawn, when the old man was still snoring heavily, the young man woke the young woman. While she was getting dressed, he'd put one of the heads he'd collected in the cold hearth where last night's fire had burned. Since he'd cut the head off cleanly at the neck, the eyes still moved around and the mouth still opened and closed. Then, he hung the second still animated head from the shower-curtain rod in the bath-room.

Afterwards, the couple gobbled down the last of the squirrel stew and stuffed the half-finished bottle of homemade wine in their pouch. No harm, no foul, they thought when they ducked out and snuck away.

The middle-aged woman, who had faked falling asleep so that the smelly old man wouldn't try to run up in her, heard the couple leave. She eased out from her spot where she'd curled up in the corner and crept outside. There was a stream out back and a canoe tied to a small dock. The stream was running back in the direction of her little house in the middle of nowhere so she climbed in, cast off, and paddled away.

A few hours later, the old man dragged himself out of bed. He went into the bathroom to clean up in the basin and rinse the taste of last night's drinking from his mouth. When he saw the zombie's head hanging from the shower curtain rod, he stumbled back in fright and banged his head on the doorjamb. He felt the b.u.mp with a grimace; then cut the line holding the head, walked out to his front porch, and crushed it with a hammer.

Next, he decided to get the day's fire going to take the chill off of his old bones. He leaned into the hearth to stack some kindling when he saw the second head. He jerked back, again smacking his noggin, this time on the edge of the hearth.

"Everything has it in for my head this morning," he said as he stood up rubbing his skull. He stepped back and tripped over the empty pot that had contained his squirrel stew and landed on his tookus. "Ouch!" he bellowed.

Now he was angry and suspected his guests who had arrived so late the day before. But when he went looking for them, they were gone, even the middle-aged woman with whom he'd very much looked forward to becoming better acquainted. Thereupon he swore that he would never take in a bunch of hooligans who eat all they want, pay nothing, and, to top it all, thank you with cruel practical jokes.

11.

Michael and Megan Based on: Bruderchen und Schwesterchen As you undoubtedly know by now, zombies have risen and wiped out most of humanity. Small pockets of survivors continue to hold out, struggling to survive. Some groups are large and have fortified walls, managing to exist quite well; others are small and roam the lands. Our story begins with a small band of rovers. In this group there was a brother and sister named Michael and Megan. Their mother had died long ago, and their father had hooked up with this cranky old b.i.t.c.h who treated them like a nuisance.

"Since our mother died," Michael said one day as he walked along at the rear of the caravan holding his sister's hand, "we've not had one happy hour. That s.k.a.n.k our dad hooked up with hits us and always sends us out on scavenger runs like she wants us to get bit so we won't be in the way. We end up eating last all the time when there is barely any left. h.e.l.l, that mangy dog of hers eats better considering that she tosses him bits from her own plate. This sucks. If our mom were here, she'd bust that tramp in the mouth. I think we'd be better off if we skipped out of here and tried to fend for ourselves."

They slipped away the next morning. All day they ducked through burned-out buildings until they were out in the middle of nowhere. That afternoon, it began to rain.

"It's like G.o.d is crying with us," Megan said.

That evening they came to a large forest. They were so worn out with misery and hunger and walking that they found a large tree to climb in and sleep where they'd be safe from any pa.s.sing zombies.

The next day they woke when the sun was high in the sky and shone down directly on the pair. "Megan," Michael yawned and stretched, "I'm thirsty. If there was a spring, I'd go and drink. I think I hear one now."

Michael climbed down and helped his sister out of the tree and they went looking for the spring. Megan had been so traumatized by the woman who had hooked up with her dad. The woman was always freaking out about everything. She even convinced Megan that zombies could hide in the water and lunge out at you if you knelt down to get a drink. This way, Megan was so skittish that she would be dependent on the s.k.a.n.ky broad for everything, which made the cruel woman feel like she was in control. That's why, when Michael knelt beside the little spring that they found cascading over some smooth stones, she had a fit. She just knew a zombie was waiting under the surface to s.n.a.t.c.h Michael.

"I'm begging you, Michael," she cried, "don't drink from that spring. There are too many places for zombies to be hiding. One of them will bite you; you'll turn and tear me to pieces."

Even though he was really thirsty, Michael knew how his sister could get. "I'll wait for the next one."

When they came to the second brook, Megan was certain she saw something swirling in the currents besides twigs and fallen leaves. "Please, Michael," she cried again, "not this one! I'm certain I saw something."

Michael was getting a bit peeved, but he didn't want Megan getting all freaked out. He decided that he could wait a little longer. However, his mind was already planning on what he would do when they found the next water source. He was simply too thirsty to play this game all day. Besides, he'd never heard of zombies hiding in springs or brooks. It seemed a little kooky.

Eventually they came to a pond. Before his sister could speak, he dove onto his belly and began scooping handfuls of water to his mouth. He never saw the zombie as it reached up from the depths and s.n.a.t.c.hed him from the flat rock he was laying on. Megan screamed as she watched her brother fight the bloated, algae-covered corpse. He managed to drive a blade into its temple and crawl out of the water. Unfortunately, he had a nasty bite on one hand.

Megan wept bitterly over her poor, doomed brother. Michael tried to be strong, but he was terribly scared. Eventually he broke down and cried as well.

"Don't cry, Michael." Megan hugged her brother tightly. "I won't leave you."

She undid her leather belt and secured it fast around her brother's neck. Then, she gathered reeds and plaited them into a st.u.r.dy rope. She fastened the rope to the belt so she could restrain her brother when the time came.

They went deeper into the forest. When they had gone a long, long way, and Michael was barely able to continue as the fever gripped him, they came to an abandoned home. It was one of those prefab log cabins that were supposed to blend in with the natural surroundings. Megan peeked inside and was relieved to find it empty.

"Let's get you comfortable." Megan had to put her brother's arm over her shoulder and help him inside.

She did her best to make his last hours as comfortable as possible. Eventually, he let out a long, rattling sigh. Megan quickly checked to ensure all her bindings were secure before his eyes opened again. Sure enough, moments later, Michael was staring at her with dead eyes that no longer saw his sister. She knew it wasn't really her brother anymore, but she could not bring herself to put him down for good.

Thankfully, the cabin had a loft. At night, Megan would climb up to sleep, pulling the ladder with her... just in case. During the day she set snares and caught rabbit and quail. She would toss the entrails to the zombie that had once been her dear brother Michael. She tried to offer him cooked meat, but he never showed any interest. She couldn't watch as he stuffed the b.l.o.o.d.y guts of her most recent catch into his mouth, but she also couldn't let him starve. (Although she didn't actually know if he was ever really hungry.) Many was the day when she sighed and thought, If only he hadn't been bitten and turned to a zombie.

For years, they lived alone in the forest. But it so happened that a large, powerful band of survivors set up a fortified encampment not too far away. The members of that compound began hunting in the woods. The forest began to ring with the sounds of men and women calling back and forth to one another.

The zombie heard the sounds and began to struggle with his bonds. It'd grown docile and accustomed to Megan, but all these new sounds had it riled up and agitated. It moaned and groaned in a way that made the hair on the back of Megan's neck stand up.

She couldn't stand the sound and all of the thras.h.i.+ng around. The realization that she would never be able to kill her brother nagged at the rational part of her mind that insisted that she'd been lucky thus far, but it would only take one mistake to seal her fate.

Being extra careful, she cut the rope that had held him all this time. She led him to the doorway and out into the woods. Once she'd lured him away from the cabin, she ran back and shut the door. The zombie stood for a moment, swaying back and forth. Then, the sounds of hunters from the nearby compound drew him into the forest.

Out in the woods, a young man sat next to a tree sipping from his canteen. He never heard the footsteps coming behind him. Cold, dead hands clutched his head and before he could react, teeth clamped onto the side of his throat. His feeble scream was reduced to a weak gurgle. His last memory was of hands tearing open his vest and their coldness as they pawed at his exposed belly.

Strangely, (or not so if what we've heard about zombies being creatures of habit is true) when night fell, the zombie of Michael returned to the cabin. Megan woke to his pawing and scratching at the door. She peeked out and was momentarily worried that she was actually happy to see her brother's zombie had returned. Being careful, she opened the door and used the rope to re-secure him.

The next day, sounds of hunters could be heard echoing in the forest once more. Megan let her brother's zombie free again, certain that whoever these people were, they'd be on their guard today since it was obvious by the stains on Michael's mouth, hands, and clothes, that he'd killed somebody.

The hunting party was, in fact, on alert. On several occa.s.sions somebody caught a glimpse of something, but none of them got a clean headshot. A couple of times a hit was scored, but it was to the body, and therefore useless.

That night, Megan was awakened by the sounds of scratching and pawing at the door. Once more, the zombie of her brother returned. She saw the places where her brother had been shot. Also, she had to remove one arrow. Again, she tied him down for the night.

What she didn't know was that one of the men from the hunting party had managed to follow Michael's zombie through the woods. He'd seen the creature paw at the door until it was opened. He peeked through the windows and saw Megan tie up the zombie and pull out the arrow. He went back to the compound and told their leader.

"Tomorrow, we will hunt again," the man said grimly.

The next morning, Megan heard the hunters. Sure enough, the moans and groans of her undead brother started up. She knew that the creature would cease its racket until she'd set it loose to wander the forest again.

"Sooner or later," Megan sighed as she led the zombie out of the cabin, "they're gonna getcha." She watched as Michael's zombie wandered out into the woods before going in and closing the door for the day.

The leader of the compound and his hunting party had no problems finding the zombie and made a point of keeping out of sight. They followed it until late in the day when it led them to a small cabin in the woods. They watched as it clawed at the door until it was opened.

The leader, Chad Tulley, rushed in with his men. Megan screamed, and the zombie turned at the commotion.

"Don't hurt him!" Megan cried. "Please don't hurt my brother!"

Chad held up his hands, signalling for his men to restrain the creature. It was obvious that they didn't like it, but they did as instructed. Meanwhile, Chad walked up to Megan. He hadn't seen such a beautiful woman since before the zombie apocalypse.

"Come to my compound and be my wife," Chad said after very little small talk.

"I will on one condition," Megan said. "My brother Michael must come with me. I won't ever leave him."

"You realize he's dead, right?" Chad asked.

"He's still my brother," Megan insisted.

"Fine," Chad agreed, "but you have to let me keep him confined. People won't like having a zombie out and about."

"Agreed." Megan nodded. After all, she wasn't stupid. She knew how dangerous it could be to have a zombie out around folks.

Chad brought Megan back to his compound and had his men gag and bundle up the zombie. They slipped him in a back way and hustled him down to the bas.e.m.e.nt of the place Chad called home. A short time later, a big wedding ceremony was held and the entire compound was invited.

In the midst of those attending was the stepmother who had run them off in the first place. She'd long forgotten the two children of her former husband who had fallen to zombies a few years earlier while out searching for a "suitable ring" for the materialistic b.i.t.c.h who still didn't realize that things like that meant nothing anymore.

When she saw how well Megan made out-what with being married to the leader of the compound and all-she was thoroughly p.i.s.sed. The only thing she could think about day and night after the ceremony was how she could either cash in or screw the girl over. Her own daughter was b.u.t.t-ugly and even in a time where standards were lower; the girl couldn't get g.a.n.g.b.a.n.ged by a pack of marauders if she was the last living woman in the world. One man had even said that, given the choice, he'd rather take his chances having unprotected s.e.x with a zombie. And it didn't help that the girl, Eunice, only had one eye and was often mistaken for a zombie.

"Now Megan is basically the queen of the compound," Eunice whined to her mother in a voice that could peel paint.

"Never mind," said the ungracefully aging wo-man. "When the time comes, I'll know what to do."

That time came quick when Chad put out the word that his wife, Megan, was pregnant and they needed somebody to help out around the house. The stepmother weaseled her way into the job, always wearing scarves and such to keep her face hidden as she worked. Shortly after she took the job, Megan's baby was born. Less than a week pa.s.sed before Chad was gone with a hunting party. Griselda the evil stepmother saw her shot and took it.

"Dearie," she said, waking Megan from a much needed nap after a long night with the baby, "what you need is a good bath. It will do you good to soak in a hot tub and let all the stresses just seep out of your pores. Come before it gets cold."

Eunice was there as well, and once Megan slid into the tub, the two pounced. They had a roaring fire lit in a jiffy and held the door shut as the bathroom filled with smoke. They waited long enough to ensure that the girl died of smoke inhalation.

When that was done, Griselda helped dress Eunice in some of Megan's clothes and then tucked her into bed. However, it didn't take long for them to realize that Eunice was just so d.a.m.ned ugly that it wasn't going to work. In an act of desperation they made a few incisions and pulled off Megan's face, then they tugged it over Eunice's head, dragged the body to the bas.e.m.e.nt steps, and pushed it down...unaware that the zombie of Michael was there...and very hungry.

Eunice climbed into bed, but it still wasn't quite enough. Griselda pulled all the curtains closed and had her daughter lay on her side so that the missing eye couldn't be seen.

That night, Chad returned from hunting. Griselda told him that the baby had been very fussy and that his wife was exhausted. He went to the bedroom to check on his beloved wife, but Griselda scurried in on his heels.

"Don't!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm as he reached up to open the curtains. "Don't open the curtains. The poor girl has been dealing with a migraine, and any light will be absolute torture. Plus, she needs her rest."

Thus, Chad slipped out quietly and left the imposter lying in his bed undiscovered. One of the girls- whom Chad was friends of the parents-was called to come in and tend to the baby that night so that Megan could get rest.

It was well after everybody was asleep that the young girl heard scratching from the bas.e.m.e.nt door. She'd just finished feeding, burping, and changing the baby and tucked him into his crib. Being curious, she went to the door. She set her lantern on the counter and turned the k.n.o.b.

A faceless monstrosity stood on the top step. The girl slammed the door in a hurry and ran back to the front of the house. Her shrieks brought Chad from his bedroom.

"What's wrong?" Chad asked the girl.

"In the bas.e.m.e.nt!" the girl managed to say between sobs. "A monster without a face tried to grab me."

Chad thought it over. Michael's zombie was securely bound and locked in a cage down in the bas.e.m.e.nt. It certainly couldn't be him. But if not Michael's zombie, then what on earth? He called a few of the men and suited up like he was venturing out to hunt.

As the men were gathering, he peeked in on his wife where she still slept in the darkness of their bedroom. He noticed a strange smell, but decided not to embarra.s.s his beautiful wife. After all, sometimes people ate things that didn't sit well in their bellies. Pointing out the smell would be rude considering some of his own emissions that she had been polite enough to refrain from commenting on.

As Chad moved about the house, he noticed the woman he'd hired as help constantly in his wake. She seemed more than a little nervous. He dismissed it since he had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

He and his men gathered at the door and could hear the scratching coming from the other side of it. Throwing it open, he was unprepared for what he saw and it almost cost him his life. He had no doubt whose body it was, even with the creature lacking a face. His eyes knew every inch, every curve.

The creature lunged forward, arms outstretched, hands now a pair of grasping claws. Chad knocked them away. Quickly he regained his wits and knew what had to be done.

"Bind the creature and take it below," Chad ordered his men. They didn't seem too thrilled, but they knew better than to argue when he used that tone.

Once the zombie of Megan was safely locked away with her brother, Chad and the men returned upstairs. He was seeing red by the time he stormed into his bedroom. The old woman he'd hired was on his heels babbling a bunch of nonsense.

When he yanked the blankets off the figure in bed masquerading as his wife, he staggered back in disgust. The figure laying where his wife normally slept had what looked like his wife's face...if it were made of melted wax and missing one of her dazzling blue eyes.

In no time, Eunice revealed everything. Chad's men were instructed to bind both women and then everybody was asked to leave the house. He even sent his brand new baby boy with the young babysitter. Once the house was empty of the crowd, leaving him alone with Eunice and Griselda, he grabbed them both and dragged them down the stairs. He allowed Michael to nip Eunice, then he tied both women securely until the ugly daughter turned.

Once Eunice turned, he threw her in the cage with Megan and Michael. He unbound Griselda and stuck his face in hers. "You're about to be eaten by something other than envy."

He tossed her in the cage and let the three zombies tear her to bits.

12.

Rapunzel Based on: Rapunzel (Duh!) A man and wife had long wished in vain for a child, the wife had reason to hope that G.o.d would grant their wish. Things had gone well for them lately. They'd found a great place to live where there was no sign of zombies which, in these days, was the best sort of luck.

The refuge that they now called home was a two-story colonial on the outskirts of town which sat up on a small bluff that was sheared off on the backside and had a four foot high brick wall enclosing the other three sides. The large iron gate that once opened to allow access to the tree-lined driveway was chained and padlocked shut. In fact, they were quite surprised to find the place empty.

Once they made certain the place was secure, they decided to christen the bedroom. It was the first real peace the couple had felt since the dead had begun walking the earth. For several days, the couple enjoyed their luck. When they'd discovered the well-stocked pantry in the bas.e.m.e.nt...it seemed too good to be true. (And we all know about that saying, don't we?) What's more, there was a wonderful garden sprouting on the side yard full of fresh vegetables that would be ready soon.

Sure enough, several weeks pa.s.sed, and the woman proved to be pregnant. The couple was overjoyed. They scarcely remembered the weeks of horror they'd endured, the friends and loved ones they'd seen torn apart at the hands of the undead.