Part 29 - Let's get a bite?

IMAGE BY KIM K , more of her work can be found here at Lost Zombies.com

The foot belonged to someone who was still able to communicate, still breathing, still human. Dennis was able to ask the foot several questions before pitch darkness took over.

"are you tied up? " - yes
"are we still in Frank or Tom's house" - yes
Are there other people, living people in the house helping Frank or Tom or whatever his real name is? - no
Have you been here long- yes
Does Frank return often? - yes and then no , Dennis asked if that meant sometimes and the foot shook a definite yes.

Judging from the dank smell and level of darkness Dennis assumed that he must be in the basement of the house. The wall he was tied to was made out of cinder blocks. His eyes were useless in the pitch darkness so he tried to hone in on whatever he could with his other senses. He took a deep breath and then another. Analyzing every molecule of air flowing into his nostrils. He could smell the raw body odor of the woman across from him. She smelled salty and dirty. The smell of urine also caught his attention. There was no distinct odor of feces however. This must mean that Frank takes her elsewhere to take a dump or he cleans that up very well. There was also the faintest hint of perfume. Not the sweet expensive kind, no, this was more like a cheap bottle of perfume a high school boy would buy at the local pharmacy to impress his sweetheart. Frank must use the perfume to...? To do what? Cover up the stench of his prisoner?

Dennis felt behind his back with his finger tips. He could feel the ropes tightly bound around his wrists but this was the first time he also felt the handcuffs around his wrists. They were more loosely clasped. The rope was tied into a metal ring in the wall and the cuffs were chained to the same ring. He pulled but the ring was solid and didn't budge an inch.

This was a seriously messed up situation. Not only was a madman upstairs, somewhere, but if zombies were to attack the house he would be incapable of defending himself. The smell of fresh brewed coffee invaded his nose and he could hear someone walking above his head. Coffee, this smell jogged his memory a little. It was once of the last things he remembered before passing out completely. Frank must be near by. But where was Chris?

Suddenly a light came on overhead. Dennis was momentarily blinded by the light. He squeezed his eyes closed and then rapidly blinked them open. He was in the basement alright. For the first time he got to see the owner of the foot he had been conversing with. She was a brunette with a thin build. Perhaps she had had more of an athletic build but being kept prisoner had thinned her down. Her look was one of total despair and yet a glimmer of hope still lingered on. The other leg that wasn't free was chained by the ankle to a huge metal barrel on her right hand side. Her hands were hidden behind her back and Dennis assumed that she was roped up just like him, perhaps cuffed too? Unlike him she was gagged and bound around the mouth. This is why she had been unable to speak.

Frank slowly descended the basement stairs. He stopped on the last step and surveyed the scene infront of him.

"What the fuck have you done with Chris? Why am I here? What's the..." Dennis yelled.

"Shhhhh. Shhhh." Frank said placing a finger on his lips as though he was shushing a small child. "So many questions at once is impolite. Did your parents never teach you manners?" He stopped and took a sip of his coffee then turned his attention to the woman. As he walked over to her Dennis began yelling out questions again and demanding that he answer him. Frank just looked over and then slapped the woman across the face, hard. She began crying and snot ran out of one of her nostrils.

"Yell at me again and I'll do something worse to her." Frank threatened.

Dennis just stared in amazement. This guy was completely insane. As though keeping two healthy humans prisoner in this zombie infested world wasn't proof enough. Frank slowly knelt down next to the woman while placing his mug of coffee on top of the metal barrel next to her. She whimpered like a dog might do right before it's beaten again. Her breath became panicked and you could tell it was getting hard for her to breath with the gag in her mouth. Frank untied her mouth and took the gag out. She took a deep inhale and begged him in a low voice "No!", it was really no more then a whisper.

"Shut up!" Frank said sternly as he took her chin in his right hand and yanked her head to her left, exposing her neck. Dennis couldn't believe as Frank appeared to sink his teeth into her neck. It looked like a vampire scene out of an old movie. The woman's scream gurgled in her throat before spilling out. Frank slammed his hand over her mouth and then straightened back up. He slowly took his hand away and the woman closed her eyes, crying and shaking. There was a huge bite mark and blood trickling down. Frank turned to Dennis who looked like he was shell shocked.

He picked up his coffee and slowly walked back upstairs. The lights went back out and the basement was silent again except for her soft sobbing.

"Are you okay?" Dennis whispered.

"I will be if you can get me out of here." the woman replied.

"I will certainly try."

A Zombie Love Letter

A Zombie Love Letter : Dear Melissa

This is a link to a wonderful 9 page short comic I found. It's a zombie love letter called " Dear Melissa". It is by Kurt Huggins and Zelda Devon. 


The nature of this short story goes against the name of my blog in a beautiful way. I thought it was a nice new twist on how a zombie might think. If they think at all..

DEAR MELISSA - click this link if clicking the picture didn't work

VIDEO - TRAILER for AMC TV series "The Walking dead"

This looks like it is going to be an awesome adaptation of the graphic novel The Walking Dead by Robert Kirkman. I already love the trailer! I know where I will be this Halloween evening. I'm going to be watching the 90 minute premiere of The Walking Dead on AMC.

Part 28 - Frank or Tom

 Image By Martin, www.bunker-fx.de

Their story left me sitting with my mouth gaping. I couldn't believe what they were telling me. I remembered the  crazy survivalist guy who had tried kidnapping me when this hell had started. Could the man they had just described to me be one of those people who finally lost all his marbles? Or was this man across town crazy from before and nobody had ever caught on, until now.

On the first day the man had been very hospitable and invited them into his house. He introduced himself as Frank but later said his name was Tom. They weren't sure if either was his real name. They noticed that all of the picture frames in the house were empty. Frank said he had taken the pictures of his family out of the frames after they died. He couldn't stand seeing their smiling faces day after day.

This seemed like an acceptable excuse to both Chris and Dennis for the empty frames on the walls and on the side tables. Other than that, and the boarded up windows on the inside, the place was cozy and comforting. Frank even shared his very well stocked pantry with them. As they sat in the golden yellow kitchen enjoying their pancakes with real maple syrup Frank asked them about where they were from and where they were headed. Dennis basically told his story leaving out that he was staying just across town and Chris just said he's been randomly traveling until he ran into Dennis.  Frank's face seemed to brighten up even more after hearing their stories. Dennis immediately picked up on the vibe and felt uneasy for the first time. Chris just thought the guy was happy to have living people for company again.

Frank was older but not too old. His hair was just starting to show signs of gray and his smile lines ran deep. He was tall and athletically built. He looked like he may have done a lot of exercising when the world was "normal". He wore jeans, a thick black leather belt with a Leatherman clipped onto it, military style boots and a tee shirt that read " Someone who loves me went to Jamaica and bought me this shirt".

Chris and Dennis slept in an upstairs room the first night. The room was painted pink with colorful flowers and two twin beds. Chris laid in bed looking at the happy flowers on the walls and right before he fell off to sleep he almost had the same feeling as when you first start tripping on mushrooms. His stomach lurched, his throat watered and he felt nauseous. His vision blurred ever so slightly and the flowers started dancing. What was happening?He tried to move his hands but couldn't. Was this death? He gave one last struggle before blacking out.

Dennis was in the other twin bed sweating. He knew something wasn't right before his stomach confirmed it. His legs were pins and needles as he got them over the side of the bed. He managed to glance over to Chris who looked sound asleep. Dennis stood up and then doubled over onto the floor. He tried to crawl bit landed on his face, hard. Something warm and wet  trickled down onto his lips. It tasted like hot, liquid metal. Blood. His nose was bleeding. As he laid on the floor he  stared at the light coming from under the bedroom door and the shadow of someone standing on the other side. Frank or Tom or whoever he was stood on the other side, waiting. Dennis understood now, he had been poisoned. Just as Dennis felt his eyelids start to close the door opened and Frank stepped in holding a hot cup of coffee. The steam from the little blue mug was visible and the smell of fresh coffee made Dennis throw up some of his pancakes.

" Now why did you have to try and get out of bed. You got yourself all bloody before your time...now I have to clean you up." Frank said as he stood between the two men passed out in this cute little girls room. Franks expression changed and he poured the hot coffee on Chris's exposed leg. Chris didn't even flinch.

"How dare you disgusting excuses for men touch my little girls! You fucking pedophiles. I'll teach you some fucking respect!" Frank yelled and then kicked Dennis in the stomach, a little more throw up came out of Dennis's mouth.

Hours later Dennis woke up. His feet and hands were bound with ropes. His stomach and ribs hurt like he had been punched an yet he had no idea why. Where was he? It smelled wet and the air was stale. There was also the smell of death. Not the smell of zombies, no, this was the smell of actual death. He could hear movement in the darkness.

There was a small window above his head. One corner was broken and uncovered, letting in a small beam of daylight. It was the only spot illuminated in the entire...wherever here was. Dennis squinted a caught a glimpse of a slender foot swipe at the light. It was a woman's foot and a woman's ankle. Of this much Dennis was certain.

"hello?" Dennis whispered in the direction of the leg. He heard another shuffle and the leg swiped again in his direction. Whomever the leg belonged to they couldn't speak back or move anything besides that one leg. It must have been near the end of the day because the light from the window was starting to turn deep orange and fade.

Dennis asked the leg to answer some questions, if she could, by shaking her foot. Shake once for yes and twice for no. The leg slowly came into the light. Her once well pedicured toes now had nothing but chipped red paint left. It made it look as though each toenail was individually and carefully chewed off. Looking raw with fresh blood but it was really just nail polish. The sole of the foot was dirty and scabbed. Her ankle was almost black from bruises. The battered foot came to a hesitant stop in the light and shook once... Yes.