shelves. Was this the something major that would distract her attention away from her favourite show? Mary rose from her seat, heading for the door, but as she reached it, the door was thrown open, knocking her downwards onto the living room carpet. The zombie barged its way in. Mary managed to gain an upright position rather quickly for someone of around sixty years of age and made room between herself and the creature.
The zombie raised its right arm to attack but had that look of pure sadness again. It sensed a connection between itself and the human but again, something inside the regenerated brain ordered the zombie to kill. It was infected with some kind of kill anything and everything virus. It had one motive, massacre before being put back into the ground.
Mary saw the Stanley-knife being waved in the air as she stared glumly at the mystery person. The staring lasted about thirty seconds, but neither of them budged an inch.
She now noticed the gruesome figure’s eyes switching their attention from her to the television screen. The zombie acted like it was annoyed over something it was watching. Underneath the flaking, stinking mass of filth that covered the zombie’s face and body were small reminders that Mary too recognised this figure.
“Maaaaaaaaaaaaa,” the beast groaned.
It couldn’t be Vincent’s mother, could it? she thought, as the zombie repeated the slobbering, spoken word.
“Mary. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
The rotting corpse shrugged its shoulders and sighed. It then eyed up the room, moved over to a shelf, grabbed the pad and pen that was on it, and wrote down some words. Mary seemed baffled, but waited for the final outcome. The pad was held out to her. “Oh, right. He is, isn’t he?” she said, after reading what the zombie wrote.
The written words read: “Man on the television is a lying cheat. He definitely cheated on his wife and the other woman is having his baby.” Mary smiled and agreed.
She’d allowed herself to be distracted inside some kind of a shocked, daydream moment. This was a big mistake because now her guard had come down.
The zombie skimmed the knife blade across her left cheek, leaving a graze. Mary was now left in a state of shock and couldn’t think straight as the zombie moved in for the kill. “Who are you? What do you want?” she shouted, hurriedly spraying out the shaking words. “You look like my husband’s mother, but you can’t be, she’s dead. Who the hell are you?”
Mary was now covered in a blanket of fear as crazy thoughts about her mother-in-law overloaded her brain.
What the hell had happened? she thought.
The small gash seeped blood. She moved, heading for another door, but the spluttering snarls that escaped the zombie’s mouth froze her before she could achieve this. Desperately, she faced the intruder. She pushed an armchair between her and the monster for protection, hoping to keep the mad freak at arm’s length. She needed to think fast, but her brain remained tangled with the increased pressure of recent thoughts. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she began to shake. What could she do? She could risk going for the phone but it was too risky to try. The zombie would be on her like a leech to the skin before she could make a call.
The monster became impatient with its prey, so a disintegrating left hand gripped onto the piece of furniture. It was shook from side to side with a lot of force until loosened from Mary’s grip. She screamed. The noise bounced off the walls around her as the armchair was sent spinning.
Mary began to lose her nerve, stupidly trying to push past the monster in order to flee back through the kitchen, but the beast slapped a hand onto her trailing right arm like a bear trap closing in on its victim. It launched her lightweight body into the air, sending her crashing against the television set, smashing it against the wall. This wasn’t a good sign for Mary because another one of her favourite programs
The zombie raised its right arm to attack but had that look of pure sadness again. It sensed a connection between itself and the human but again, something inside the regenerated brain ordered the zombie to kill. It was infected with some kind of kill anything and everything virus. It had one motive, massacre before being put back into the ground.
Mary saw the Stanley-knife being waved in the air as she stared glumly at the mystery person. The staring lasted about thirty seconds, but neither of them budged an inch.
She now noticed the gruesome figure’s eyes switching their attention from her to the television screen. The zombie acted like it was annoyed over something it was watching. Underneath the flaking, stinking mass of filth that covered the zombie’s face and body were small reminders that Mary too recognised this figure.
“Maaaaaaaaaaaaa,” the beast groaned.
It couldn’t be Vincent’s mother, could it? she thought, as the zombie repeated the slobbering, spoken word.
“Mary. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
The rotting corpse shrugged its shoulders and sighed. It then eyed up the room, moved over to a shelf, grabbed the pad and pen that was on it, and wrote down some words. Mary seemed baffled, but waited for the final outcome. The pad was held out to her. “Oh, right. He is, isn’t he?” she said, after reading what the zombie wrote.
The written words read: “Man on the television is a lying cheat. He definitely cheated on his wife and the other woman is having his baby.” Mary smiled and agreed.
She’d allowed herself to be distracted inside some kind of a shocked, daydream moment. This was a big mistake because now her guard had come down.
The zombie skimmed the knife blade across her left cheek, leaving a graze. Mary was now left in a state of shock and couldn’t think straight as the zombie moved in for the kill. “Who are you? What do you want?” she shouted, hurriedly spraying out the shaking words. “You look like my husband’s mother, but you can’t be, she’s dead. Who the hell are you?”
Mary was now covered in a blanket of fear as crazy thoughts about her mother-in-law overloaded her brain.
What the hell had happened? she thought.
The small gash seeped blood. She moved, heading for another door, but the spluttering snarls that escaped the zombie’s mouth froze her before she could achieve this. Desperately, she faced the intruder. She pushed an armchair between her and the monster for protection, hoping to keep the mad freak at arm’s length. She needed to think fast, but her brain remained tangled with the increased pressure of recent thoughts. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she began to shake. What could she do? She could risk going for the phone but it was too risky to try. The zombie would be on her like a leech to the skin before she could make a call.
The monster became impatient with its prey, so a disintegrating left hand gripped onto the piece of furniture. It was shook from side to side with a lot of force until loosened from Mary’s grip. She screamed. The noise bounced off the walls around her as the armchair was sent spinning.
Mary began to lose her nerve, stupidly trying to push past the monster in order to flee back through the kitchen, but the beast slapped a hand onto her trailing right arm like a bear trap closing in on its victim. It launched her lightweight body into the air, sending her crashing against the television set, smashing it against the wall. This wasn’t a good sign for Mary because another one of her favourite programs
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