A Zombie Remembers
It's easy for her, thought Yuff, so easy. Swanning around like she's the Queen of the Old World. He'd heard that she even had her own personal Apothecary, a luxury he had never known. He sighed and muttered “Braaaaaains” Words didn't come as easily as thoughts to Yuff, not since what his Coach called “regenesis”. He had his doubts about it all, small things mainly like the way his skin didn't quite fit his body. His bones sometimes showed, and his left foot spent as much time unattached as attached. But she knew nothing of this, and looked on his kind with disdain. Those stakes, they were the bane of Zuff's un-life, and it was just his luck that she seemed to turn out against him more often than not. One day Zuff had sworn to show Zara the Slayer what pain was like, the taste of real suffering.
She lined up further down field than usual today. The Dead Cousins hadn't expected to see her play for these Amazons, but there she was. Zuff could see her, licking her lips as she planned her attacks. Zuff wasn't scared of her or of another death. It was on the field that he felt the strongest memories of his previous lives. Sometimes the memories scared him, sometimes made him laugh. They always reminded him that un-life went on. His team was winning by one touchdown but Zara was rallying her team-mates.
Suddenly she was there in front of him. He shambled as fast as he could, tracking her down the side-line. He hoped his foot behaved. She had other battles to fight before him, he ached to foul her or push her into the blood-thirsty crowd. They cared not if they crushed a rookie or a star. “Braaaaaaains” he mumbled as he grew closer to her. He could see the stakes around her waist, one in her hand which she tried desperately to drive home into a Ghouls sweaty pallid face.
His eyes glazed more than usual. He saw her in his mind. Zara looked younger, and in his memory his skin fitted better. She was looking at him, but not with disdain or pity. She laughed and called him Gerrard. She was saying something, he couldn't remember it right, it hurt to think so hard. “Our parents” he heard, as he sensed movement. Focus returned, as she drove the stake right between his eyes, consigning him to yet another un-death.
Words didn't come easily to Zuff since what his coach called “regenesis” He had his doubts about it all, small things mainly like how his skin didn't quite fit his body. His bones sometimes showed, and his left foot spent as much time unattached as attached.... And always the faintest of memories of something before...
There once was a Zombie called Reg,
Who went off to live in a hedge.
He came to some harm,
lost an ear leg and arm
and smells awfully like rotting veg.
How many Zombies does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Two, but they have to be quite small.