- Richard
- Lizzie
- Lisa
- Norval Joe
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Planet Z
RICHARD
Braiiinnnssss!
My other half has an enthusiastic, but hopelessly uninformed personality.
Recently, she’s developed an obsession with horror stories.
‘I’ve just read a book about zombies’, she said. ‘Did you know you have to kill them with a stake through the heart?’
‘That’ll be vampires’, I replied patiently.
‘And they sparkle in sunlight too’
‘Again, vampires. Although not any self-respecting ones.’
She gave me a sour look.
‘And, people turn into them on a full moon!’
‘Err… Werewolves, sweetheart. Look, zombies are the ones that want to eat your brains.
But, I don’t think you have anything to worry about!’
LIZZIE
The house featured on the brochure promised a supernatural experience. So they bought the full pack. A week of no sleep, little food, and malevolent ghosts. The first couple of days were quiet. A few whispers. A bit of woooooooo and a biting grrrrraaaaaaah. Not a ghost in sight, though. As the days dragged on, so did the wooooos and the grrraahs. It was annoying. The full pack had cost a fortune, plus they were hungry. As soon as they opened the door to leave, a horde of zombies stormed in. So the house did get its ghosts after all.
LISA
Crowds Gather on Threadneedle Street
At midnight on Halloween all the money from every UK bank account made its way to an account under the name Z. Ombie. The fallout was, as you’d expect, incredible. Sam, 8 from Wales was responsible, with a little help from an AI chatbot.
Looting started about 2am. Realisation for many didn’t dawn until it was time to go to work and there was no public transport.
The public were urged not to panic. The army was called in. The public panicked. They panicked hard.
Facebook could hardly cope with all the speculation but Sam, Sam never told a soul.
NORVAL JOE
Sabrina stumbled into the house and turned into the living room. She dropped down onto the couch and stared at the wall like a zombie. Billbert and his mother followed her while Mandi disappeared into the kitchen to find something to eat.
Sabrina suddenly burst from her trance and buried her face in her hands, crying, “I keep going back to that basement in my mind. I’m back in the sensory reduction suit where all I have are my thoughts. I have horrible thoughts of my grandmother dying, and, of others dying.”
Sabrina sobbed, gasping, “I can’t stop my thoughts.”
SERENDIPIDY
I wanted to grow up to be a zombie.
Being one of the undead, shambling around the streets with lifeless eyes, hunting down the innocent to feast on their brains appealed.
I have a well-honed survival instinct, and if there was going to be an apocalypse, I’d rather be on the aggressor’s side, than one of the fleeing masses.
I haven’t managed to achieve my ambition yet, but I’m almost there.
I demonstrably look and feel like one of the undead, with lifeless eyes and shuffling gait.
I’m a government employee.
Just need to acquire a taste for brains.
TOM
Pretty Lame
Question: Would 100,000 men-of-arms take out 10 million zombies? Well, YouTube has dozens of these simulations. It’s quite addictive, but calming effect. Of course, if a was watch a wave of teeth rounding a 60-foot hill of the semi-dead, up close and personal, I would totally lose my shit. Which bring us to an important query: What is the rate of speed of the classic zombie? And can they climb over each other? How about that walking underwater thing? Given enough time could they develop flight? Only reason I ask is there in world class knocking on the front door.
PLANET Z
Nobody signed Mary Peterson’s yearbook. She wasn’t in any clubs. She didn’t say anything in any class. She didn’t have any friends. She dressed plainly, and looked plain, didn’t stand out at all. Disappeared into a crowd. She wasn’t out for any sports. She sat alone on the bus. Never dated. Didn’t go to any dances or games. She just came to school went to every class turned in her work, shook her head when she was called on, and went back home. I don’t know what grades she got. She’s never been to the reunions. And nobody ever asks.