Gruesomely Grimm Zombie Tales Part 14

Good Girl, Bad Girl Based on: Frau Holle Widow Feller had two daughters, Kerry the beautiful and hard-working, and Eunice, the ugly and lazy. But she was much fonder of the ugly, lazy one, because she was her own daughter; and the other, who was the stepdaughter was forced to do all the work. It was sorta like a real-life Cinderella story without a prince and all the cute, talking animals. Oh yeah...and no gla.s.s slipper.

When the world was overwhelmed by the nightmarish rise of the dead, the widow and her daughters fled to a government-run FEMA shelter. Once there, those who were bigger and stronger began to abuse their power as mankind is wont to do. Everybody was expected to work and share in the burden of maintaining the compound. Unfortunately, many of the women were selected for the unsavory task of providing the soldiers with certain diversions.

Of course Eunice thought it was an honor to be bedded by as many soldiers as possible, but most of them either demanded that the lights be out or she be facing away. As for Kerry, Widow Feller actually did her a favor by forcing her to remain grungy looking and tend to all the "household" ch.o.r.es.

Every day the poor girl had to take a s.h.i.+ft beside the well and fill the compound canteens and cook pots. Kerry didn't really mind because she liked doing for others. At the end of her s.h.i.+ft, she was expected to peel and rinse the day's allotment of potatoes, carrots, or turnips. Quite often, she had knicked or gouged fingers, and would draw just enough water to rinse her hand before returning home. Now it so happened that she got herself particularly bad one day and knew that she would be scolded if she brought the peeler home covered in blood. She bent to draw water from the well to rinse it off and dropped the peeler over the side. Kerry burst into tears, ran home to her stepmother, and told her what had happened.

"You let it fall in," Widow Feller scolded. "So you can just get it out again."

The poor girl went back to the well and she didn't know what to do. In the end she was so frightened that she jumped into the well in the hope of retrieving the peeler. She was surprised that it was actually an underground brook. In a blink, she was swept away into the darkness. She hit her head on a low rock and lost consciousness, and when she awoke she'd washed to the bank, and found herself in the middle of a beautiful meadow. The sun was s.h.i.+ning and there were thousands of lovely flowers.

She started walking across the meadow, and after a while she came to a road. Across the road was a tiny bakery. Looking around for zombies, she didn't see any and hurried across. There were wire racks of only slightly stale bread and she gathered a bunch and put it in a large sack.

Going back outside, she searched for familiar landmark in order to return to the FEMA shelter. As she walked, she came upon some apple trees heavy with fruit. Setting down her bag, she gathered a bunch and, after taking the bread out first, placed them in the bag. Then she replaced the bread and continued on her way.

Finally she came onto a little house. She could hear crying from within and set down her bag, rus.h.i.+ng inside. An old woman was on the stairs, pus.h.i.+ng away a man who was obviously dead. The man had bite marks and dried blood all over his body.

"Help me, dear child," the old woman wailed.

Kerry paused, struck by how large the woman's teeth were, but shook it off. She picked up the poker beside the fireplace and rammed it through the back of the zombie's head.

"Thank you so much," the old woman sighed and sat down on the stairs.

"You are very welcome," Kerry said.

"I'm so grateful you showed up, I don't know what I would have done without your help." The old woman squinted at Kerry making a thoughtful face. "What brings such a pretty thing as you out here in the unprotected zone?"

"I lost my vegetable peeler," Kerry replied, a look of concerned sadness cras.h.i.+ng down on her face. "And I still haven't found it."

"Bah!" the old woman scoffed. "Things are replaceable, but people...they are not."

"But my stepmother-"

"Is a cruel person," the old woman interrupted. "Why don't you stay with me; if you do my housework and do it properly, you won't regret it. Just so you take care to make my bed nicely and shake it till the feathers fly. And it would do nicely to have somebody keepin' the ghouls away." The old woman paused, then her eyes lit up. "I almost forgot, we haven't been introduced. My name is Holly Snow, but all my neighbors used to call me Mother Holly."

"Pleased to meet you." The girl took Mother Holly's gnarled old hand. "My name is Kerry Kessen."

And so Kerry agreed to stay and help the old woman. She always did her work to Mother Holly's satisfaction, and always shook the bed so hard that the feathers flew about like snowflakes. In return she had a good life, was never spoken to harshly and everyday she ate fresh produce from the garden out back. Sometimes she was even treated to fresh eggs, and on special days, fried chicken.

Twice a month the two would sneak out by the light of the moon. The bakery up the road had a wood-fired oven and they would bake fresh bread. Mother Holly always insisted that they leave some behind in case a weary traveller pa.s.sed through.

Still, after she had been with Mother Holly for some time, she grew sad. At first she couldn't figure out what was wrong, but then she knew it was homesickness. Though she was a thousand times better off than she had ever been at home, she longed to be back. One day she could keep it in no longer.

"Mother Holly," she said, "I'm terribly homesick. I know how good I have it here, but I can't stay any longer. I must go back to my family."

"That's wonderful, child," Mother Holly said. "It is good that you still long for home, and because you have served me so faithfully I will take you to the FEMA shelter myself."

Just as they reached the door, Mother Holly paused and opened the hall closet. She produced a backpack stuffed with seed packets for a garden as well as a small box that contained six baby chicks.

"This is your reward for working so hard," Mother Holly insisted as she helped Kerry slip into the straps of the pack. With the world being what it was, this reward was greater than if the pack had been filled with gold in the days when money mattered. "Oh, one last thing." Mother Holly reached into her pocket and produced a vegetable peeler.

Before long they had pa.s.sed through some woods and reached the other side. The security towers and high fence of the FEMA compound was just down the hill. Kerry turned to thank the old woman, but she was gone. She hurried down the slope to the entry gate of the compound. The soldier on duty allowed her in.

"Lookie, lookie...a fresh piece of nookie!" one of the patrol sentries crowed.

Kerry ignored the cra.s.s comment and hurried to the dorm where the cubicle was that acted as home to her stepmother and stepsister. She walked through the opening, and her mother and sister made a great fuss over her because of all that they were shown from the backpack.

She told them everything that happened, and when Widow Feller heard how Kerry came by such riches, she wanted the same good fortune for her lazy and ugly daughter, Eunice. So, the next day she told Eunice to go sit by the well and peel the vegetables. To make the peeler b.l.o.o.d.y she p.r.i.c.ked Eunice's fingers with a needle. Then the ugly and lazy daughter simply tossed the peeler into the well and jumped in after it.

She hit her head on the same low ledge and woke up next to the same meadow. Taking the same route, she eventually came to the bakery beside the road. The smell of freshly cooked bread made her mouth water and she hurried inside and wolfed down as much as she could then left; not bothering to leave any behind that she hadn't torn into the middle of.

Next she came to an apple tree. She didn't much care for apples, but instead of leaving them for others who might pa.s.s, she plucked the best ones from the heavy branches and threw them at pa.s.sing zombies.

When she arrived at Mother Holly's house, a few of the zombies she'd hit with apples followed her. The old woman hobbled out to the yard with the poker from the fireplace clutched in her gnarled hands.

"Land's sakes, child!" Mother Holly exclaimed. "You're bringing them ghouls right on your heels and to my little home."

Eunice didn't bother to stifle a laugh as she pointed. "What the h.e.l.l is wrong with your teeth? Ain'tcha never heard of an orthodontist?"

Mother Holly ignored the cruel jibe and dispatched with the zombies that were trudging up the path to her cottage before they could get to the garden and mess things up.

Of course once it was done, Eunice hastily agreed to stay on and help Mother Holly. That first day she even forced herself to do the work by reminding herself of the reward to come. But on the second day she began to take it easy, going so far as to sleep in when she was supposed to accompany the old woman to the bakery. And on the third day it was even worse. Eunice didn't bother getting out of bed when she heard the old woman out in the yard fighting off a few zombies. She never once made Mother Holly's bed, much less shake it out until the feathers flew.

It didn't take long for Mother Holly to grow tired of Eunice and her slovenly ways. She woke the girl and quoted one of her favorite television shows before the world fell apart.

"Eunice," Mother Holly said with a smile. "You're fired!"

The lazy girl didn't get it and thought this was all part of the routine. She climbed out of bed and followed Mother Holly to the door. When they reached it, the old woman opened it and shoved the girl into the arms of a waiting zombie. She closed the door on the horrible screams that followed.

"That's your reward for your services," Mother Holly smirked.

When the screaming died down, she slipped out back and came around the house. Eunice's zombie was just getting up and her insides fell out of the gaping hole in her belly and onto Mother Holly's porch.

"I'll have to get to that later," the old woman said.

She quickly got the attention of the zombies on her porch and led them through the woods and to the FEMA shelter. As they reached the edge of the tree line, Mother Holly ducked behind some brush. The stupid zombies continued along and the old woman slipped back towards her house. She hadn't gotten far when she heard a short burst of automatic weapons' fire.

25.

Violet and the Seven Zombies.

Based on:.

Die sieben Raben.

There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had no daughter, however much he wished for one. At length his wife again gave him hope of a child, and when it came into the world it was a girl. They named her Violet, and the joy they felt was great. Only, the child was sickly and small.

Meanwhile, the hospital was in lockdown. Two people had been discovered horribly mutilated in one of the bathrooms. Within an hour, hysteria and panic were rampant. The medical staff on the maternity ward had all been called away on emergencies that were springing up throughout the hospital.

The father sat with his family in the birthing room waiting for the nurse to return with the little girl. They'd had to rush away with her just after she was born. Finally, he asked one of his sons to go check on the condition of his new sister.

Each of the boys had been trying to come up with an excuse to leave the room and they all hurried off. There was a strange absence of medical staff on the floor, but that wasn't something that teenage boys noticed. However, as they rushed past a room with an open door they froze. A man in one of those horribly embarra.s.sing hospital gowns that opens in the back was hunched over a woman. What stopped them in their tracks was the fact that the man's head was buried in the ripped open belly of the woman. What looked like a tiny leg was jutting up from the horrific wound.

The boys stood stock still, transfixed by the gruesome sight. They watched until the man in the gown stood up, ropey strands of an unidentifiable crimson slurry dripped from his chin. Then...the woman's head turned toward the boys.

The father paced the room waiting for his sons to return. Minutes ticked away, but he would not leave his wife's bedside. The birth had been difficult on her. The last thing the doctor had done before rus.h.i.+ng off on some mysterious emergency was to give her a mild sedative. With some sort of horrific killing having taken place, he wasn't about to leave his wife alone to go look for seven boys who were undoubtedly up to no good.

"I wish I'd never had seven sons," the man mumbled in frustration. Hardly had the words left his mouth when a cacophony of screams erupted from out in the hallway.

The eldest boy acted first. He'd been raised by a good man and knew that it was wrong to hurt a woman. He charged into the room and tackled the blood-soaked man. They went to the ground in a heap. The other six brothers rushed in to help their eldest sibling. None of them saw the two figures staggering out of the elevator-one of them missing an arm. There were sounds of a scuffle...then...screams.

The two figures tumbled through the doorway, falling on the brothers. It seemed that no matter how hard they fought, the man-and in an unpleasant surprise, the woman-kept scratching and biting at them. When two more joined the fray, not only did the boys have no room to fight, but the injuries began to mount.

Only the youngest boy managed to finally extricate himself. Covered in blood, some his, he escaped the room. He staggered to the nursery and, once inside, found his sister. He was feeling strange and was actually surprised when he looked down and discovered the bite marks on his arm. The bigger surprise came when his hand came away from his thoat dripping with fresh blood. He grew dizzy and knew he didn't have long. He looked down at the cherubic face of his baby sister and smiled. Her eyes seemed to stare back at him, wide and full of a peculiar intelligence.

Scooping up the precious bundle, he was determined to make it back to his parents and warn them of what was happening. He struggled to keep his feet as he staggered up the hallway. As he pa.s.sed the room where the struggle had occurred, he saw his mutilated brothers beginning to sit up. One of them was rolling onto his side which caused his guts to spill out onto the blood-slicked tile in a pink, purple, and grey pile.

He burst into the room and did his best to explain everything to his flabbergasted father. He kissed his sister on the forehead, whispered in her ear, and handed the bundle to his mother who was groggy, but aware enough to know there was a problem. Then the chatter of automatic weapons sounded from outside the door. The young boy knew he was doomed and turned and exited. Seconds later, a single shot was heard.

When the door opened, men in black fatigues, face masks, and jackboots flooded in. They scanned the couple for injuries and, finding none, escorted them from the room. They were among dozens of others loaded into a military transport truck and whisked away.

Years pa.s.sed and a thousand thousand stories could be told. But this tale is about Violet. The little girl grew up in a tough world, void of luxuries. She knew hards.h.i.+p, hunger, and death. Despite it all, Violet grew up to be more beautiful every day. And she spent hours honing her skills as a fighter. Something she could not explain drove her from deep within.

For a long time she did not know that she had brothers. Her parents rarely spoke, and not once did they ever speak of their lost boys in her presence. Still, there were others from that day who knew. And in particular, one woman who saw it all from her room across the hall.

One day, as Violet walked past, she heard the woman say, "That girl is certainly beautiful, but her being cost her seven brothers their lives."

This stopped the girl in her tracks. She spun on her heel and returned home and went to her mother and father. She asked if it was true that she had once had seven brothers, and worse, if she were responsible for their deaths.

The parents now dared keep the secret no longer. The father did his best to explain what had happened on that day. A good man, he tried to say that all the events of that day were the will of G.o.d and that her brothers were waiting for them in Heaven.

The explanation sat poorly with Violet. She hunted down the soldiers of the compound one by one to find any that had been there that day. At last, she found one. She grilled him on everything he could remember. What she wanted to know more than anything was that all of her brothers had been put down. Everybody knew that you could do whatever you wanted to the body of a zombie, but to kill it for good it had to be shot, stabbed, or cleaved in the head. He knew for certain that one had, but he couldn't be certain of the other six.

Violet felt that tug from within. She now knew what she must do. She would have no peace until she set out secretly and made certain that her brothers were indeed at peace. She would return to the hospital and ensure that the bodies of each of her brothers was accounted for; let it cost her what it might.

She took nothing with her but a picture that she discovered in her father's wallet, a canteen, a few basic foodstuffs, a torch, a sleeping bag, and a razor-sharp sword. After making certain from the soldier where the hospital was located, she set off on her quest.

The first day wasn't too bad. Their compound was far out in the middle of nothing, so there were very few zombies to contend with. The second and third day were much the same. Then, she reached the outskirts of town. Even after all these years, the undead still lurked in the shadows and wandered about their necropolis. The undead seemed to sense her, and came tumbling out of buildings and alleys.

Whirling, spinning, and sometimes just running, Violet dealt with the oncoming zombies. Then, she saw it. The gla.s.s structure rose like a s.h.i.+ning sun as she rounded a corner and spied the hospital sitting on a wooded hill. Having lived her life in a tent city, this building looked like a gla.s.s mountain to the girl. Even though some of the windows on the lower floors were broken, most of the upper levels remained intact.

She charged up the hill, caring little for her own safety. And while the exterior of the building reflected the sun in dazzling fas.h.i.+on, the interior was dark and gloomy. By luck she happened on an emergency stairwell. She lit her torch and climbed to the eighth floor. According to the soldier, that was where she and her parents had been rescued.

The door wouldn't open and was made of a st.u.r.dy metal. Using the pommel of her sword, she broke the k.n.o.b off. With more effort than she'd initially figured on, she eventually defeated the lock. However, she could hear hands pounding and clawing at the other side, drawn by all her noise.

Whe she pulled open the door, a short, naked, odd-shaped woman was waiting. Her face had been torn away and one shoulder sagged strangely, but it was the bulge of the woman's belly that was most disturbing. It hung at an odd angle and something was moving under the taut, grey, black-veined skin.

Violet plunged her blade through the pregnant zombie's eye and pushed the body back into the legless ghoul trying to get ahold of the living girl's ankle. She drove the sword down into the skull and stepped over the carnage. Three more of the creatures were close at hand and Violet made short work of them.

Then she saw him. Still sitting against the wall, a single hole in his forehead, the brother who had rescued her from the nursery was dead and accounted for. Using the faded picture, she walked from room to room. In one, she checked off five of her brothers. That left the oldest unaccounted for. She searched, becoming frantic. Perhaps he had wandered off this floor.

She heard a noise from a strange set of doors at the end of the hallway. Having grown up in a tent city, Violet had no knowledge of elevators.

She pried the doors apart, and staring up at her was the last of her brothers. The car had settled between floors so his head was at her knees. With one thrust, she put the pathetic creature down once and for all. At last, she thought, you are all at peace.

Our Dead series.

Dead: The Ugly Beginning and Dead: Revelations.

DEAD:.

Fortunes and Failures .

The third book in the Dead series will be available December 15th 2011.

In Zomblog you find Samuel Todd.

...a regular guy...

...Failed husband...

...Loving father...

...Dutiful worker...

...Aspiring rock star.

He had no idea if anyone would care, or take the time, to read his daily blog entries about his late night observations. But what started as an open monologue of his day-to-day life became a running journal of the first-hand account detailing the rising of the dead and the downfall and degradation of mankind...

Zomblog II continues with Meredith Gainey She is a survivor...and determined to retain that status as the zombie apocalypse wipes out most of humanity. Unable to accept an existence behind walls and fences, she finds herself in constant danger...and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Look for Zomblog: The Final Chapter coming August 2011 THE DEAD WALK!.

Slip into the skin of common men and women and experience the horror through their eyes. Follow the Zombie Apocalypse from its initial stages to the brink of the abyss, and over...into the pits of an unthinkable h.e.l.l on Earth. Tune into your local radio stations for the latest updates or stay here and follow the story as it unfolds on...

Eye Witness: Zombie The legions of the undead continue to grow. First Time Dead proudly presents a host of brand new names to the genre pantheon.