Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Mechanical Affection ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 13 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: HeavenlyHorror 
Things are beginning to look up for Mitch! Sometimes being zombie-napped isn't such a bad thing.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Post-apocalyptic / Horror / Comedy | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.28.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.4K | Visits: 166 | Status: Work In Progress
Things are beginning to look up for Mitch! Sometimes being zombie-napped isn't such a bad thing.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Post-apocalyptic / Horror / Comedy | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.28.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.4K | Visits: 166 | Status: Work In Progress
Mechanical Affection- Chapter 13
There was something fundamentally wrong with this picture. I was crammed into the back seat with two breathers and nobody seemed to be very concerned with me. To my, er, left we’ll say, was a big black mammoth that probably should have had the whole back to himself and, too my other side, a fair skinned woman. She had her arm draped around my shoulders, I’m assuming to make space because she was as much squashed into the door as I was into her. And in the front seat a fire haired girl and lanky guy in black, who was white not black like gigantor next to me.
What really made this out of the ordinary was all the smiling the girls were doing. It was like they were happy to see me. How fucked up was this? This shit was weird, and they were talking to me. Or trying to because they kept looking at me while they spoke. I could understand maybe a word or two among their girlish gibberish.
You know, if we were all being chummy here, I’d have appreciated the removal of my gag. I’d have enjoyed the car ride much more, though it probably wouldn’t have been much a ride as it would have been lunch.
I looked up and stared at the trees. They rushed by so fast I got broken reel visuals of it as we went, flashing my dull eyes with different patterns of sunlight through the leaves. We seemed to be driving a long time and very far away from my old haunts. I had only just begun to wonder where we were going when the vehicle jerked to a stop and the engine died.
The big motherfucker got out first and I ended up toppling over without his massive body to support me. I kind of missed it now that it was gone. He’d been warm. I don’t know who got out after only that I was last and I was hauled out by my bound hands and stood up on my feet. Once I was steady I could feel one of them behind me wrestling with my restraints before my arms suddenly dropped to my sides.
I looked down at them. They were a bit indented by the binding but otherwise they appeared fine, gloves and all. They were letting me go? I growled in my throat, but the pressure I attempted to exert out my mouth only caused the holes in my body to ooze. What was this? Some sort of zombie relocation program?
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked around. This was… Oddly familiar. A wall of breathers stood before me, staring with open interest and… Not holding guns?
A kind of scrawny looking guy pushed through the crowd and he looked so familiar, but shit if I remembered anyone or anything. It was obvious he remembered me, though, because the next thing I knew his arms were around me. I could feel his hands gripping my shirt so tightly I thought he might tear it off. His face was against my neck. He didn’t seem bothered that I was leaking from various unnatural orifices, “Mitch…” Who the hell was that? Oh, I think he was talking to me, “I never stopped looking for you.” He was trembling.
Okay… I think I’d reached my quota of crazy for one day.
When he pulled away, he grabbed my head and looked at my face. I don’t know what the hell he saw in me but I saw a tasty meal, if I could get my teeth into him, “You don’t remember, do you?” And I had no idea what he was talking about, so I guess there was his answer.
Oh! I stared at his arm and it was suddenly all I could see; the same mark that had been on the angel was on him. A black trident on his forearm. I was transfixed by it, like it was something important, like I needed to stare at it until something told me not to.
He ran his hand over my skull, probably wiping away grime, and then leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, “That’s okay. You’re home.” Home? I stared at his familiar face. He was so close I could see every feature, even though my eyes were bad. I couldn’t name him. Sorry, Crazycakes- Wait. That seemed familiar too.
I wasn’t allowed to linger on familiarities any longer as the guy grabbed my hand and led me away. I felt the eyes of the other breathers on my back but mine were only on the hand that fit so comfortably in mine.
When I noticed where we were going, I groaned in dismay. No, no, no! No water! I dug my heels into the dirt and jerked back. And the guy turned to face me and smiled. That crazy little lunatic smiled at me with a smile so familiar it made my head hurt. What a fucking gorgeous smile! “You are not coming in my tent looking like that.” He said and I glowered at him. Who said I was going in his tent? Why hadn’t I been invited to this camp-wide conference on what to do with stray zombies? “Don’t give me that look.” I glowered harder, but I don’t think it looked any different, “Baby…” I wasn’t sure if that was insult or endearment.
His hand found my face and instinctively I turned my head to bite, but, damn it, it ended up being more like an affectionate nuzzle than anything else. Stupid gag, “Oh all right.” He sighed and I finally realized that I could understand him. He was talking purposefully slow and easy for me. I was confused… Actually, if I knew a word to describe a level of confusion tenfold the amount meant by the word confused I would use that because holy shit was I lost.
Hand still in mine, he began to lead me somewhere else. He stopped by a tent and briefly released me to pick up a toolkit, bucket, wood, and rag. Then he was back at my side. Looping his arm around my elbow we headed back to the river. It was like he couldn’t stand letting me be more than two feet from him… And really, that suited me just fine because I was still trying to figure out what the trident shaped thing on his arm was trying to tell me.
He let me go again to build a fire, but he kept reaching back to touch my leg as if to make sure I hadn’t gone anywhere. But I was curious and he was a potential meal that seemed harmless. Where exactly would I be going?
Once the fire was built, he went over to the river, me being literally dragged along with him, and scooped some water up into the bucket. Then, back at the fire, he placed the bucket over the heat. Mmm… Heat.
I was lost in the fire when I felt my shirt being rolled up. I looked down and could see it riding up my stomach. What the-? Then it was up and over my head and I whirled around to see that guy holding my shirt. That’s not yours, give it back. I lurched towards him, but he ducked under my arms and looped his own around my waist.
He was stronger than he looked. He heaved me up off the ground before forcing me to sit, and right in his lap mind you. What the hell was going on here? And- Woah! Where did he think he was sticking his hands? Somebody, call the police. There’s a crazy bastard molesting zombies over here!
His hands slid up and rubbed my chest. I could feel the weight of his head on my shoulder and his deliciously warm breath fall over my skin. His body was hot against my back, “I missed you.” I hadn’t been aware that I’d been missing. Exactly where had I been missing from?
He kissed my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. I think I was missing a key piece to this puzzle, “Does it hurt?” Does what hurt? Odd, I could understand the words but not the meaning. I apparently needed a translator for this guy, “Your head.” I gave him a blank stare. What was wrong with my head?
He smiled at me from over my shoulder, “I’m glad.”
That he seemed to be uncannily good at understanding me was becoming unnervingly creepy. His hands were at my crotch again. Damn it, I don’t care how hard I was, this was unwelcome physical contact! He struggled with me a moment, but in the end he got the upper hand and jimmied off my pants, along with my shoes and socks and, well, anything that wasn’t my gloves or gag.
Pulling the water off the fire, he soaked the rag and brought it to my face. Warm water trickled down my cheeks, getting caught in the cloth around my head and in my mouth. It felt good… Oh man, did it feel good. I moaned, my eyes becoming half-lidded and heavy as he continued to wipe me clean with the rag. I chewed the rag in my mouth; the combination of warmth and my straining jaw muscles was soothing.
“They killed Trinity and Josie.” He said in a low murmur so quiet I almost missed it. I didn’t know who he was talking about and I didn’t care. Whatever they were, death happened too often to worry over it, “They would have killed me too if you hadn’t taken most of the hits…” That didn’t sound like me. Why would I have saved him? He was just a breather. “Look what they’ve done to you.” I looked. I was riddled with holes but I’d always had those, right? “Don’t worry. I’ll get you fixed up.” He promised as he stroked my head. I noticed he only stroked one side. Didn’t he mention something about my head?
He kissed my shoulder again, “You saved my life…” The rag went back in the water and I grumbled in disappointment. His arms circled around me protectively, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” I’ll keep that in mind… Now if he wouldn’t mind getting back to work. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to telepathically understand that and I had to wait a few more minutes before he pulled out the rag and continued. He was awfully thorough. Suspiciously so, but I didn’t care because I was in zombie heaven. Well, almost, I could definitely eat.
After an indiscernible amount of time, he tossed the rag in the bucket of now cooling water and pushed it aside. Then he reached over dragged the bag towards us, which I had correctly assumed to be a kit of some kind but not a toolkit. Opening it up, he dug out some superglue, thread, and a needle. He stood me up and went to work, patching me together like a doll. I guess it was his zombie patching kit, which seemed an odd thing for a breather to have.
Only once all my holes were closed up did he put out the fire and collect his things. Taking me by the hand again, he led me away, stark naked. I guess my clothes were too rank to salvage. That was a shame; I had grown quite attached to them.
He pulled some clothes out from inside a tent and dressed me in them, switching out my gloves as well. They all fit, which would have struck me as odd if I’d been able to connect the dots, any dots really. Instead, I was just pleased to be covered up again.
I was a little less pleased when he pulled out a duffle bag and began to unload some unfortunate looking accessories. Masks, masks, and more masks. Masks that would cover a face from the nose down, like a muzzle or maybe they were muzzles and not masks. They were definitely designed for something of the human variety. And, regrettably, I think I could be clumped into that category.
He had quite the little collection there. This guy needed a new hobby, something a little less creepy that didn’t involve decorating gruesome looking restraints.
I stared at them and almost remembered something. At least, I think I did. It had something to do with the way they were painted, the way they looked. They became less ominous the more I stared. So I shuffled closer to get a better look at them and the guy looked up at me, “Do you like them?” No. “I made them for you… For when you came back.” That was thoughtful, I think. Wait… That sentence implicated something. Fuck, I didn’t know. I couldn’t think why that should have been noteworthy.
“Need help?” Huh? A little slack jawed, I turned slowly towards the voice. Another woman, maybe one of the ones from before but maybe not. When she got a look at me she made a face. Curling my lips back a little, I snarled but it sounded like a weak hiss from behind the gag. How about she try being the walking dead for, er, however long it was I’d been. Then see how she looked. Bitch.
The guy said something to her that I didn’t understand. Then, in the blink of an eye, or lapse of consciousness, I was being held from behind and my gag was off. Thrashing, I snapped my teeth. Two breathers, so close I was actually touching one and still I couldn’t seem to sink my teeth in one! Groaning in frustration, I tried to moved forward but fell. The one holding me toppled with me and then on top of me… I think I heard something break. Like, inside me. A rib maybe? Oh well, I had like a dozen of those right?
“Careful!” That was the guy yelling. My head was pulled back and instead of the ground I was staring at him again, “Are you okay?” He asked. I worked my mouth a little. Oh sure. I was fine. I had a mouth full of dirt and some whore was on me but I’m just dandy.
He wiped my mouth, careful to pull his hand away when I tried to bite off his fingers. He was taking this whole me trying eat him thing rather well.
Holding a mask, or muzzle, over my face I could feel it tighten as it was secured before I was helped back to my feet. The guy dusted me off, “-about that?” I hadn’t realized the girl was talking until she moved into my vision as well. She gestured to me. My head to be specific. What the hell was wrong with my head? Why was everyone looking at it?
Dumbly, I looked up as if I could crane my neck enough to actually see my own skull. Needless to say it really didn’t work and the guy grabbed me swiftly by my muzzle and yanked my head down, “Don’t do that!” He ordered in choppy sounding words. Why not? I started to try again and he yanked my head back down, “Mitch, seriously. Knock it off.” Then he turned to the woman, “You think… it’ll fall out?” I think he went a shade paler.
“I think some already did.” She was smiling but the guy didn’t seem to think it was very funny. I had to agree with him on that. It felt like she was laughing at me, which was really just unacceptable. Waving her hands, she said something that had the guy dragging me along like a dog back towards the center of the camp.
There, we met up with what I assumed to be the rest of the group. They weren’t a bad looking bunch of… I stared intently at one of them. Look at those blue eyes… Like ice and, if my blood weren’t already thick as sludge and chilly, that gaze would have made my heart stop cold. And he was looking at me too. Oh, but I guess I was the oddball out. So… No reason to worry right? I looked at the guy next to me. I wish someone would introduce us. Crazycakes was fine and all but I felt like there was something else to think of him by. You know, something not thought up of inside my currently rotting brain.... Wait, was that what they’d been talking about earlier? I’d think if part of my brain fell out I’d notice but maybe I was dumber than I thought I was.
A hand clamped down so hard on my shoulder that I tipped over and fell into whoever was to my other side. Not they guy I’d come with, but someone else. The unlucky bastard stumbled, turned, and griped at me. I griped back, “It’s good to have you back.” Said the one that’d set off the domino effect. He said a few more things that might’ve been touching if he hadn’t rattled them off in a matter of seconds. Then he grabbed my face and yanked me on forward. Fuck! Stop pulling on my face! I shook my head, but he grabbed it with both hands and looked at the top of my head… Hey, what was up there? My brain was still there right?
I watched blankly as he held onto me with a hand and reached the other up. I didn’t feel him touch me but his hand came back slimy with a film of grime. Mm, yummy. The breathers talked shop a bit, letting me stand like an idiot with my face in his hand. Then he nodded towards a campfire and sat me down on a log. If they expected a ghost story from me, tough shit. I tried to stand up as soon as my ass hit the floor but the guy who’d put the mask on me sat beside me. His arm was around my neck and he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.
Across the way a fire haired girl smiled over at me. I think I’d seen her recently. She had something in her lap and I realized it was a guitar when she started to play too. And she began to sing and sway but the motion looked a bit more like a glitch in my eyes. Though, even broken to bits I enjoyed it. Maybe it was the drunken heat of the fire or the way their shadows danced on the off-white canvas tents behind them. Maybe it was that the guy holding onto me was smiling and singing to me. Or maybe it was even that he was helping me get into the rhythm of the music since my affliction left me acutely tone deaf.
Then there was someone else on my other side and those arms were around me as well. And she was singing to me too… And… Strangely, it all felt pretty good. When was the last time I’d enjoyed something so obviously human?
Little lovey-dovey, happy reunion chapter. Then it’s back to the big questions: who was that other zombie? What are those guys doing with those zombies? Why the fuck is everything on fire? Will Mitch and Matt ever ‘get together’?!
Just kidding on that last one… Or am I?
There was something fundamentally wrong with this picture. I was crammed into the back seat with two breathers and nobody seemed to be very concerned with me. To my, er, left we’ll say, was a big black mammoth that probably should have had the whole back to himself and, too my other side, a fair skinned woman. She had her arm draped around my shoulders, I’m assuming to make space because she was as much squashed into the door as I was into her. And in the front seat a fire haired girl and lanky guy in black, who was white not black like gigantor next to me.
What really made this out of the ordinary was all the smiling the girls were doing. It was like they were happy to see me. How fucked up was this? This shit was weird, and they were talking to me. Or trying to because they kept looking at me while they spoke. I could understand maybe a word or two among their girlish gibberish.
You know, if we were all being chummy here, I’d have appreciated the removal of my gag. I’d have enjoyed the car ride much more, though it probably wouldn’t have been much a ride as it would have been lunch.
I looked up and stared at the trees. They rushed by so fast I got broken reel visuals of it as we went, flashing my dull eyes with different patterns of sunlight through the leaves. We seemed to be driving a long time and very far away from my old haunts. I had only just begun to wonder where we were going when the vehicle jerked to a stop and the engine died.
The big motherfucker got out first and I ended up toppling over without his massive body to support me. I kind of missed it now that it was gone. He’d been warm. I don’t know who got out after only that I was last and I was hauled out by my bound hands and stood up on my feet. Once I was steady I could feel one of them behind me wrestling with my restraints before my arms suddenly dropped to my sides.
I looked down at them. They were a bit indented by the binding but otherwise they appeared fine, gloves and all. They were letting me go? I growled in my throat, but the pressure I attempted to exert out my mouth only caused the holes in my body to ooze. What was this? Some sort of zombie relocation program?
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked around. This was… Oddly familiar. A wall of breathers stood before me, staring with open interest and… Not holding guns?
A kind of scrawny looking guy pushed through the crowd and he looked so familiar, but shit if I remembered anyone or anything. It was obvious he remembered me, though, because the next thing I knew his arms were around me. I could feel his hands gripping my shirt so tightly I thought he might tear it off. His face was against my neck. He didn’t seem bothered that I was leaking from various unnatural orifices, “Mitch…” Who the hell was that? Oh, I think he was talking to me, “I never stopped looking for you.” He was trembling.
Okay… I think I’d reached my quota of crazy for one day.
When he pulled away, he grabbed my head and looked at my face. I don’t know what the hell he saw in me but I saw a tasty meal, if I could get my teeth into him, “You don’t remember, do you?” And I had no idea what he was talking about, so I guess there was his answer.
Oh! I stared at his arm and it was suddenly all I could see; the same mark that had been on the angel was on him. A black trident on his forearm. I was transfixed by it, like it was something important, like I needed to stare at it until something told me not to.
He ran his hand over my skull, probably wiping away grime, and then leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, “That’s okay. You’re home.” Home? I stared at his familiar face. He was so close I could see every feature, even though my eyes were bad. I couldn’t name him. Sorry, Crazycakes- Wait. That seemed familiar too.
I wasn’t allowed to linger on familiarities any longer as the guy grabbed my hand and led me away. I felt the eyes of the other breathers on my back but mine were only on the hand that fit so comfortably in mine.
When I noticed where we were going, I groaned in dismay. No, no, no! No water! I dug my heels into the dirt and jerked back. And the guy turned to face me and smiled. That crazy little lunatic smiled at me with a smile so familiar it made my head hurt. What a fucking gorgeous smile! “You are not coming in my tent looking like that.” He said and I glowered at him. Who said I was going in his tent? Why hadn’t I been invited to this camp-wide conference on what to do with stray zombies? “Don’t give me that look.” I glowered harder, but I don’t think it looked any different, “Baby…” I wasn’t sure if that was insult or endearment.
His hand found my face and instinctively I turned my head to bite, but, damn it, it ended up being more like an affectionate nuzzle than anything else. Stupid gag, “Oh all right.” He sighed and I finally realized that I could understand him. He was talking purposefully slow and easy for me. I was confused… Actually, if I knew a word to describe a level of confusion tenfold the amount meant by the word confused I would use that because holy shit was I lost.
Hand still in mine, he began to lead me somewhere else. He stopped by a tent and briefly released me to pick up a toolkit, bucket, wood, and rag. Then he was back at my side. Looping his arm around my elbow we headed back to the river. It was like he couldn’t stand letting me be more than two feet from him… And really, that suited me just fine because I was still trying to figure out what the trident shaped thing on his arm was trying to tell me.
He let me go again to build a fire, but he kept reaching back to touch my leg as if to make sure I hadn’t gone anywhere. But I was curious and he was a potential meal that seemed harmless. Where exactly would I be going?
Once the fire was built, he went over to the river, me being literally dragged along with him, and scooped some water up into the bucket. Then, back at the fire, he placed the bucket over the heat. Mmm… Heat.
I was lost in the fire when I felt my shirt being rolled up. I looked down and could see it riding up my stomach. What the-? Then it was up and over my head and I whirled around to see that guy holding my shirt. That’s not yours, give it back. I lurched towards him, but he ducked under my arms and looped his own around my waist.
He was stronger than he looked. He heaved me up off the ground before forcing me to sit, and right in his lap mind you. What the hell was going on here? And- Woah! Where did he think he was sticking his hands? Somebody, call the police. There’s a crazy bastard molesting zombies over here!
His hands slid up and rubbed my chest. I could feel the weight of his head on my shoulder and his deliciously warm breath fall over my skin. His body was hot against my back, “I missed you.” I hadn’t been aware that I’d been missing. Exactly where had I been missing from?
He kissed my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. I think I was missing a key piece to this puzzle, “Does it hurt?” Does what hurt? Odd, I could understand the words but not the meaning. I apparently needed a translator for this guy, “Your head.” I gave him a blank stare. What was wrong with my head?
He smiled at me from over my shoulder, “I’m glad.”
That he seemed to be uncannily good at understanding me was becoming unnervingly creepy. His hands were at my crotch again. Damn it, I don’t care how hard I was, this was unwelcome physical contact! He struggled with me a moment, but in the end he got the upper hand and jimmied off my pants, along with my shoes and socks and, well, anything that wasn’t my gloves or gag.
Pulling the water off the fire, he soaked the rag and brought it to my face. Warm water trickled down my cheeks, getting caught in the cloth around my head and in my mouth. It felt good… Oh man, did it feel good. I moaned, my eyes becoming half-lidded and heavy as he continued to wipe me clean with the rag. I chewed the rag in my mouth; the combination of warmth and my straining jaw muscles was soothing.
“They killed Trinity and Josie.” He said in a low murmur so quiet I almost missed it. I didn’t know who he was talking about and I didn’t care. Whatever they were, death happened too often to worry over it, “They would have killed me too if you hadn’t taken most of the hits…” That didn’t sound like me. Why would I have saved him? He was just a breather. “Look what they’ve done to you.” I looked. I was riddled with holes but I’d always had those, right? “Don’t worry. I’ll get you fixed up.” He promised as he stroked my head. I noticed he only stroked one side. Didn’t he mention something about my head?
He kissed my shoulder again, “You saved my life…” The rag went back in the water and I grumbled in disappointment. His arms circled around me protectively, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” I’ll keep that in mind… Now if he wouldn’t mind getting back to work. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to telepathically understand that and I had to wait a few more minutes before he pulled out the rag and continued. He was awfully thorough. Suspiciously so, but I didn’t care because I was in zombie heaven. Well, almost, I could definitely eat.
After an indiscernible amount of time, he tossed the rag in the bucket of now cooling water and pushed it aside. Then he reached over dragged the bag towards us, which I had correctly assumed to be a kit of some kind but not a toolkit. Opening it up, he dug out some superglue, thread, and a needle. He stood me up and went to work, patching me together like a doll. I guess it was his zombie patching kit, which seemed an odd thing for a breather to have.
Only once all my holes were closed up did he put out the fire and collect his things. Taking me by the hand again, he led me away, stark naked. I guess my clothes were too rank to salvage. That was a shame; I had grown quite attached to them.
He pulled some clothes out from inside a tent and dressed me in them, switching out my gloves as well. They all fit, which would have struck me as odd if I’d been able to connect the dots, any dots really. Instead, I was just pleased to be covered up again.
I was a little less pleased when he pulled out a duffle bag and began to unload some unfortunate looking accessories. Masks, masks, and more masks. Masks that would cover a face from the nose down, like a muzzle or maybe they were muzzles and not masks. They were definitely designed for something of the human variety. And, regrettably, I think I could be clumped into that category.
He had quite the little collection there. This guy needed a new hobby, something a little less creepy that didn’t involve decorating gruesome looking restraints.
I stared at them and almost remembered something. At least, I think I did. It had something to do with the way they were painted, the way they looked. They became less ominous the more I stared. So I shuffled closer to get a better look at them and the guy looked up at me, “Do you like them?” No. “I made them for you… For when you came back.” That was thoughtful, I think. Wait… That sentence implicated something. Fuck, I didn’t know. I couldn’t think why that should have been noteworthy.
“Need help?” Huh? A little slack jawed, I turned slowly towards the voice. Another woman, maybe one of the ones from before but maybe not. When she got a look at me she made a face. Curling my lips back a little, I snarled but it sounded like a weak hiss from behind the gag. How about she try being the walking dead for, er, however long it was I’d been. Then see how she looked. Bitch.
The guy said something to her that I didn’t understand. Then, in the blink of an eye, or lapse of consciousness, I was being held from behind and my gag was off. Thrashing, I snapped my teeth. Two breathers, so close I was actually touching one and still I couldn’t seem to sink my teeth in one! Groaning in frustration, I tried to moved forward but fell. The one holding me toppled with me and then on top of me… I think I heard something break. Like, inside me. A rib maybe? Oh well, I had like a dozen of those right?
“Careful!” That was the guy yelling. My head was pulled back and instead of the ground I was staring at him again, “Are you okay?” He asked. I worked my mouth a little. Oh sure. I was fine. I had a mouth full of dirt and some whore was on me but I’m just dandy.
He wiped my mouth, careful to pull his hand away when I tried to bite off his fingers. He was taking this whole me trying eat him thing rather well.
Holding a mask, or muzzle, over my face I could feel it tighten as it was secured before I was helped back to my feet. The guy dusted me off, “-about that?” I hadn’t realized the girl was talking until she moved into my vision as well. She gestured to me. My head to be specific. What the hell was wrong with my head? Why was everyone looking at it?
Dumbly, I looked up as if I could crane my neck enough to actually see my own skull. Needless to say it really didn’t work and the guy grabbed me swiftly by my muzzle and yanked my head down, “Don’t do that!” He ordered in choppy sounding words. Why not? I started to try again and he yanked my head back down, “Mitch, seriously. Knock it off.” Then he turned to the woman, “You think… it’ll fall out?” I think he went a shade paler.
“I think some already did.” She was smiling but the guy didn’t seem to think it was very funny. I had to agree with him on that. It felt like she was laughing at me, which was really just unacceptable. Waving her hands, she said something that had the guy dragging me along like a dog back towards the center of the camp.
There, we met up with what I assumed to be the rest of the group. They weren’t a bad looking bunch of… I stared intently at one of them. Look at those blue eyes… Like ice and, if my blood weren’t already thick as sludge and chilly, that gaze would have made my heart stop cold. And he was looking at me too. Oh, but I guess I was the oddball out. So… No reason to worry right? I looked at the guy next to me. I wish someone would introduce us. Crazycakes was fine and all but I felt like there was something else to think of him by. You know, something not thought up of inside my currently rotting brain.... Wait, was that what they’d been talking about earlier? I’d think if part of my brain fell out I’d notice but maybe I was dumber than I thought I was.
A hand clamped down so hard on my shoulder that I tipped over and fell into whoever was to my other side. Not they guy I’d come with, but someone else. The unlucky bastard stumbled, turned, and griped at me. I griped back, “It’s good to have you back.” Said the one that’d set off the domino effect. He said a few more things that might’ve been touching if he hadn’t rattled them off in a matter of seconds. Then he grabbed my face and yanked me on forward. Fuck! Stop pulling on my face! I shook my head, but he grabbed it with both hands and looked at the top of my head… Hey, what was up there? My brain was still there right?
I watched blankly as he held onto me with a hand and reached the other up. I didn’t feel him touch me but his hand came back slimy with a film of grime. Mm, yummy. The breathers talked shop a bit, letting me stand like an idiot with my face in his hand. Then he nodded towards a campfire and sat me down on a log. If they expected a ghost story from me, tough shit. I tried to stand up as soon as my ass hit the floor but the guy who’d put the mask on me sat beside me. His arm was around my neck and he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.
Across the way a fire haired girl smiled over at me. I think I’d seen her recently. She had something in her lap and I realized it was a guitar when she started to play too. And she began to sing and sway but the motion looked a bit more like a glitch in my eyes. Though, even broken to bits I enjoyed it. Maybe it was the drunken heat of the fire or the way their shadows danced on the off-white canvas tents behind them. Maybe it was that the guy holding onto me was smiling and singing to me. Or maybe it was even that he was helping me get into the rhythm of the music since my affliction left me acutely tone deaf.
Then there was someone else on my other side and those arms were around me as well. And she was singing to me too… And… Strangely, it all felt pretty good. When was the last time I’d enjoyed something so obviously human?
Little lovey-dovey, happy reunion chapter. Then it’s back to the big questions: who was that other zombie? What are those guys doing with those zombies? Why the fuck is everything on fire? Will Mitch and Matt ever ‘get together’?!
Just kidding on that last one… Or am I?