Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Mechanical Affection ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Mechanical Affection- Chapter 4

Not surprisingly, Crazycakes was not my companion's real name. I learned this around dinnertime, assuming dinner is still the meal served at sundown and can be made up entirely of potato chips, Swiss rolls, and a sandwich that must have been irradiated to still be good.

The pair of us were sitting around a pile of sticks built up like tent. At least, he was sitting. I was standing, still tied up to my tree, but I was close enough to be considered in the loop. At some point, he'd stopped talking and I wasn't sure if that was because he was done or because he'd tired himself out. He had talked a lot… If I'd been alive I probably would have kicked his ass for rambling on so long. But zombie me was perfectly fine with him absolutely never shutting up.

Tossing the garbage from his cakes and chips into the pile of wood, he began to meticulously pick apart his sandwich. He ate was might have been cheese at some point from between the bread before tugging out something I assumed was supposed to be meat. I'm not sure how much meat it could have been made of considering the sandwich looked pre-packaged and therefore would have been at least six months past its expiration date. Yummy.

He eyeballed it some and then held his hand out to me, “Want it?” He asked lazily and, if I could have, I might have glowered. He had to be joking. Did he see legions of the undead raiding the quickie mart down the street and tipping vending machines for a soda? I don't think so. Whatever that mystery slab was in his hand, it was about as appetizing as a pile of fossilized dog shit… I was hungry but not that hungry, “No?” Yeah, that was a no, Crazycakes. And he simply folded it up and shoved it into his mouth.

“Hey, Matt.” And we both jerked to look at the generic girl approaching. Matt? Who the fuck was that? Me? No, my name was Mitch. She seemed to cast a frown my way before smiling at Crazycakes- or maybe it was Matt? “Any luck?” Any luck with what? Get the hell away from Crazycakes. Get your own sidekick, bitch. I managed a growl at her, I don't think she appreciated it.

Crazycakes looked at me and sighed heavily. Damn, he was sobering up. I wanted him hysterical again. My mind skipped a little and I caught the end of a shrug, “I dunno.” He said in exasperation, the speed of his speech slowed by fatigue. Yay for slow speak! “I've been talking to him all day…” Actually, it was probably more like half a day, “He responds when I look at him, but I don't think he understands what I'm really saying.” Maybe if he'd talk slower, like now for instance?

The girl looked at me and we exchanged an expressionless stare. Then she shook her head, “Face it, Matt… It's just a zombie. Shoot it and move on.” Woah! Lady! Harsh much? Give me a fuckin' chance! God, what a bitch! Don't listen to her Crazyca- er Matt, she's mental! I pulled at my ropes and made a noise, which sounded similar to a strangled gasp.

“His name's Mitch.” He insisted. Score one zombie, bitch nada. Then he rubbed his face with his hands, “Just… let me sleep on it.” No, Crazycakes, don't sleep on it! Tell the bitch now! Snarling some, I turned and yanked at my rope. Frustrated I bit at it and promptly had my head jerked away. When I looked, Matt had the second rope pulled tight, “Stop.” He ordered and I sulked in silence. If he'd just untie me, I'd have this problem solved ten seconds ago. Also, was he ever going to feed me? I was starving!

“That thing's dangerous…” What was with these people? I looked forcefully at the patch on my shirt. Did it not say in plain lettering my name? Use it! Or at least say `he' or `him'. Last time I checked, my dick and balls hadn't dropped off to make me an it… My eyes shifted downwards at the thought. Okay, sure, I didn't give a shit about my looks but the mental image was concerning and I kind of wished I could check. Pants… More often in the way than they should have been.

When Matt stood at the end of my rope, he inadvertently pulled me and I rasped a little, “You didn't see it.” Not you too, man. Stop with the `it's already, “Claire…” He started and I wondered if he finished or simply changed the subject. It was hard for me to tell considering the whole broken record thing my brain did, “Is there anything he may eat over there?” Praise the lord! I was worried that I might just starve!

The woman sighed, “I'll look… But no promises.” She said and left us. We watched after her as she went to a softly glowing spot of the camp. I noticed now that it was quite noisy over there. Breathers… And yet, Crazycakes was over here with me. Maybe they thought him too crazy to be part of the group. More of him for me, I supposed.

When she returned, she faired no better than Matt and offered a cold slab of bloodied meat. Though she was more insistent, shoving it in my face until I took it from her. My teeth sank easily into it and cold blood gushed into my mouth and down my throat. Oh god, this was not what I wanted at all! Jerking back, I ripped my other rope from Matt's hands and staggered back. I tried to spit the revolting thing out, but my mouth wasn't listening and seemed to do the opposite. Thrashing, my blunt teeth tore through it and I swallowed the bite in my mouth- Oh, fuck! Crumpling like I'd been kicked in the stomach, I managed to wretch up the cold lump.

Claire looked at me unsympathetically, the bitch, “Guess he didn't like it.” You suck…

And Matt sighed. With a shake of his head, he exchanged some words with the woman then disappeared into a tent for the night. She left shortly after, leaving me with my loneliness and absolutely nothing to do.

By morning, I had managed to tangle myself in my ropes. I'd tried exploring the area around my tree but grown extraordinarily confused by how my rope seemed to get shorter when I walked around the trunk. It didn't seem possible and I struggled to wrap my head around the peculiar event. I managed to lengthen and shorten it several times before my legs somehow got pinned to the tree; I fell over, and ended up on my back for the rest of the night. Even more unfortunate was the fact I was conscious the whole time, no naps for me.

When the sun came up, rescue followed. Fresh from his tent, Crazycakes waltzed over and stood over me. He stared down at me with an amused expression and I grumbled. This was not funny. Four hours with my leg twisted up, hands behind my back, and wallowing in the dirt had left me sour.

“What a mess.” Crouching down just above my head, he let his hands dangle between his legs. Uh… Ya gonna just stare? I would just love to be standing, but he didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. Pressing a finger between my eyebrows, he rubbed the bridge of my nose and I shook my head. Then he rested his chin on his palms, “Maybe if you were cleaner…” He thought aloud. Good luck with that buddy. I don't think a bath can fix the way I smell or anything else for that matter. I'm a zombie, deal with it.

Hey wait a second! Damn it! Don't leave me on the ground, dick! But he did. Standing up, he left me to my misery. When he came back, he had a large container attached to a hose and some rags. He set all of it but a single clothe in a pile and walked back over, “All right, baby, let's do this.” Did he just call me `baby'? Maybe I misheard. Hey! I snarled an objection as he grabbed me by the hair to lift my head up. Placing my skull on his lap, he wrapped the cloth around my face, covering up my mouth. Once he was done, he grinned and patted me on the cheek. Damn you, Crazycakes. The name `Matt' just didn't do his personality justice.

Untangling my legs, he grabbed my arm and hoisted me up. I struggled a little but he shoved me into the trunk of the tree face first and began to yank off my other restraints. Hands free, I resisted with renewed vigor but for a scrawny ass punk, he was pretty damn strong… Also I hadn't eaten since… Since… I didn't remember, “Seriously, Mitch! Knock. It. Off!” He hit me in the head and my world spun. Or maybe I'd been spun because suddenly Matt was in front of me and undoing the buttons of my shirt. Woah, man! Hold up! Buy a guy a drink first, why don't you? Or at least a bite to eat!

He shoved the shirt over my shoulders and ripped it off down my arms. Seriously, no offense but I don't swing that way! Wait… Did I? Fuck… Know what? Even if I didn't in life, what did I care now that I was dead? Moral objections? I got a whopping zero of those. I still wouldn't object to that bite to eat though.

His hands grabbed for my belt and if I could have smiled I probably would have, “'S like a fuckin' chastity belt.” He hissed under his breath with his words slowed by his concentration. Pinning me to the tree with a knee to my stomach, he fought with the belt and all its buckles, latches, and add-ons. Even when he got it undone, he couldn't seem to quite yank it off my body. Apparently, though, undone was good enough for him. Unbuttoning and unzipping my pants, he got to his knees and pulled them on down. I started to think about grabbing him, but before I could act, he whipped my feet out from under me and took the pants and my boxers with him.

Then he went for my shoes, which struck me as odd for some reason. I dunno, they just seemed like they wouldn't be worth it. Wait a second… Was he stealing my clothes? Not like I needed them or anything, but I was kind of attached to them by now.

Unlacing my boots completely, he pulled them off with surprising care and then peeled off my socks. This action was promptly followed by a dry heave, the covering of his mouth, and the draining of color from his face. Apparently, it was just that bad… I had no illusions it wouldn't be. I'd been the undead for how long? No showers, no drying off completely, just the kind of thing to cause rot and decay. Oh, and fungi enjoy that too.

Standing up fast, he dashed away with my clothes and stopped at a safe distance. I sat up and had a look myself. Oh, it wasn't so bad. A mild case of trench foot maybe, I still had all my toes and everything… Though I do admit the color wasn't quite right and a couple of sores appeared to be oozing something or another. Kind of like the something that normally came out of my mouth. I really wasn't concerned.

Actually, now that I could actually get a good look at myself, I wasn't half bad! Oh sure, there were various bruises (I think), scratches, and holes in my body leaking black stuff. And there were a couple of patches of skin that appeared to be harboring a colony of some yellow or orange fungi, but really not bad at all. Oh… Except for the maggots. I was surprised I didn't feel that. Damn flies laying eggs in my wounds.

I didn't remember getting most of the wounds I had, except that wonderful looking bite on my arm. A bullet hole in the leg, a gash in my right thigh, small nicks and slices on my arms and legs, an animal bite on my left shin, and some other deep penetrating wounds that didn't look like bullet holes but were definitely not just little scratches. Most of them looked to be infested with something or another, whether bacterial, fungal, or insectoid. I guess I did have to admit, my feet did look the worst but that didn't stop me.

Flailing around a bit, I managed to latch onto the tree and get up onto my feet. As I did so, whatever putrid fluid in them squished out of the open sores. I looked down at myself again. Man, for a zombie, I was looking awesome! And hell, my dick and balls were pretty much unaffected so bonus to me. Crazycakes ought to round up the gang to prove I was no `it'. I could possibly scar a few of the children for life.

I was just finishing up with getting reacquainted with my own body when a cold stream of water hit me in the chest. All at once, my muscles seized and I practically ate dirt again for the third time that day. My head bobbed about a moment and I frantically looked around to find Crazycake Matt holding the container from earlier and the hose. He depressed a lever and water jetted out again and hit me in the leg this time.

Scream moaning, I staggered back to get away and he sprayed me in the arm and then my chest- Oh god! Fuck! Stop! Stop it! Augh!

I flailed about furiously, desperate to get free when the spray hit me in the face and I was out. Not like zombie nap out but more I'm so confused I don't even know what happened. I must have short circuited.

When the world came slamming back into my blackness, something was above me and I was on the ground. I was so wired, I hadn't a clue what it was or what it was doing and I grabbed at it. It felt warm under my fingers and, as reflex would have it, I pulled at it. Shoving my face into the struggling heat, I tried to bite it but for some reason it didn't work. My teeth clamped down on softness but not the warmth I expected.

I probably would have tried again if something hadn't hit me in the face and put me down. My head reeled a moment, like the brain in there were still sloshing about, then I got up to get a look at whatever it had been that whacked me so good. Oh, a breather. He looked familiar, had we met?

“You scared the living shit out of me!” The guy's words were choppy like they'd been recorded at different times and played in the sentence afterwards. I'm not sure if that was my brain skipping or his voice from the shock. Also, if he expected me to feel bad about it, tough shit baby. I think he did because he gave me this weird look and got kind of red and hot when I just stared back. What did he expect? Dick…

I staggered forward a little, felt a tug at my neck, slipped, and fell. I'd forgotten completely where I was, why I was there, and how I had gotten there to begin with. Short term memory loss is a bitch.

On the ground, I twisted around and saw the rope tied to the tree. I was tied up, okay… I got up again and looked at myself. Naked… Okay?

A hand appeared in front of me and my eyes went to it. Trident tattoo, that was definitely familiar. The guy snapped his fingers to get my attention and I looked at him. He was way close, like inches away from my face, “Hey. Mitch,” Who? “Are you okay?” He was decent looking fellow, and so familiar. Maybe, he caught that I was examining his chocolate locks and pale eyes because he smiled. It was a nice smile…

I remembered myself, or my hunger, and suddenly I was onto him like a leech. He must have been enjoying my attempt at chewing off his head because he laughed, which struck me as odd. There are very few occasions, scratch that, there has never been an occasion when a potential victim has laughed at my advances.

Gripping his shirt in my hands, I attempted to rip it off while I buried my face in his neck. Damn it! Why was this not working? I could feel my mouth biting down, but no blood, no rush of warmth! And, damn it, if he didn't just laugh even harder! He was shrieking something in his laughing fit and pushing me away but he couldn't seem to get a grip on my slippery body. Why was I wet?

Then we both slipped and I landed on top of him. He squirmed and kicked, cackling hysterically as he gripped his stomach and I continued to try and eat him.

The sound of a cocking gun brought us both back to the present and the sound of the name `Matt' screamed jogged my poor memory… Oh yeah. Dick! Was it too much to ask for warm water?! Fuck that shit was cold!

I snarled a little as Matt pushed me up with both arms to let my torso kind of dangle above him. He was saying something hurriedly and out of breath to the newcomer. A woman. A wet naked man-zombie with a semi lying on top of you… Yeah, he had a lot of explaining to do.

(Author's Note: Matt's ticklish.)