The Zombie
The zombie, for surely that was what it was, had seen me and
approached. I had heard that they were about.
It shuffled in a form of movement I had never witnessed before. Slowly it came on.
Relentless.
I was rooted with fear. Total, abject fear.
I fixated on the face with its white and waxy pallor of the newly dead.
I couldn’t for the life of me look away let alone run away. For where would I run. To what? To whom? Where would I hide? But I wanted to. Oh God yes, I wanted to.
My throat was suddenly parched. I sweated. I instinctively leant back but only felt the wall behind me.
Trapped.
Still it shuffled forward. Grotesque. Frighteningly unnatural. Not human. Anything but human.
The face was the worst by far. The clothes hung loosely over everything else but at least they hid the form beneath.
That face.
The hair receded back over an unnaturally huge forehead. Bad scars ran horizontally along the hairline. The cheekbones were high and prominent as in a wild cheetah on the hunt.
The lips, bared back over yellow teeth, were coloured a dark crimson like arterial blood. As though it had just fed.
I whimpered. This was the end. Surely.
Why had I not stayed in the safety of the home? Why had I left? I had known my trip outside could have catastrophic results.
Fuck, why did I leave? Why?
For two years I hadn’t ventured out nights.
I shook. Uncontrollably.
I heard no other sounds. There may have been other noise. Of similar confrontations going on around. Must have been other noise. There were many bodies I could sense, but I heard nothing. Nothing at all. The surrounding world was blotted out by sheer fear. Sheer panic.
The scientists know nothing. Fight or flight they insist is inbuilt. Balls. I did neither. I simply stood and trembled.
It got nearer with each wobbling, shuffling step. I was the quarry. Then, it was suddenly within distance to strike.
I could hear its breath. See more scars and discolouration around the ears and nose.
I spontaneously, naturally put my hand out in front of me, to parry? To protect? A futile gesture surely?
I have no idea.
“Hi,” it said taking my hand, “I’m Veronica and I’m new to this speed dating,” it lied.