Today on Drabble Wednesday, come spend a day among the undead...
A tangerine and cherry red sunset. The clouds seem to dance with the colours. My mother used to say the sky gave us fireworks to welcome the night.
I wonder if I’ll remember her, or sunsets. When it happens. When this me is gone.
I breathe the smell of the dewy grass, and the stink of rotting corpse. You can’t escape that smell anymore.
Damn. Why wasn’t I more careful?
What’s careful anymore? You live until your luck runs out. Like mine did.
I glance at the remains of mutilated zombie, and then at its bite mark on my arm.
I can still hear the screams.
That’s what happens when you crash your own funeral as a walking corpse. Not that I wanted to attend as the risen undead, or even die for that matter, but I didn’t get a choice. A car accident cut short my life and for the other thing...
Never have an affair with a woman who dabbles in the occult.
Break ups get unnaturally messy.
But I did have the last say, because she screwed up whatever the hell she did.
Now she’s dead with the rest of the funeral party.
She was tasty though.
The stench of brimstone clings to me. Even inhabiting this corpse I can smell it. In these clothes, the hair, on the skin. I wanted to escape Hell, not bring it with me.
I sigh. Best ignore and keep moving.
I scurry forward, staying to the shadows. I’ve slipped into the body of a woman, that much I know. Someone knifed in an alley, guessing from the blood and where I woke up. At least the wound is healing.
Now I just need to avoid the bounty hunters and kill my back-stabbing husband.
Then we can be in Hell together.
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved