Gruesomely Grimm Zombie Tales Part 2

"That I can't tell you," the boy said "What is it that you keep muttering?"

"Ah," the boy replied, "I wish I could get the creeps. But n.o.body seems to be able to teach me how."

"That's nuts," said the wagon driver. "Forget it and come with me. I'll find you a place to stay."

The boy went with the wagon driver, and in the evening they came to an inn where they decided to spend the night. As they stepped into the hall, he said it again in a loud voice, "I wish I could get the creeps!"

The innkeeper heard him and laughed, "If that's what you want...I believe it can be arranged."

"Don't say such things," the innkeeper's wife said. "Think of all the foolhardy lads who have lost their lives; what a shame if those pretty eyes were never to see the light of day again."

"I don't care how hard it is," the boy insisted. "I want to learn; that's what I left home for." And he gave the innkeeper no peace until the man told him about the nearby castle, where a fellow could learn all about the creeps if he was willing to spend a few nights there.

The governor had promised his daughter in marriage to the man who could do it, and she was the most beautiful maiden under the sun. Besides, there were great treasures in the castle, guarded by monsters if you believed the rumors. Those treasures would make a person very rich. Many had gone in, but none had come out again.

The next morning, the boy went to the governor and said, "If you let me, I'd like to spend a few nights in the castle."

The governor gave the young man a once over, and because he liked what he saw, he said, "You may ask for three things to take with you into the castle, but they must be lifeless things."

"Then give me fire, a lathe, and a smith's anvil and workbench with the hammer," the young man said.

The governor had these things taken at sunrise. That night at dusk the young man went inside, made a bright fire in one of the rooms, set up the smith's anvil and workbench with the hammer beside it, and sat down by the lathe.

"Oh, if I could only get the creeps!" he said. "But I won't learn in this place either."

Toward midnight he thought he'd stir up the fire. As he was blowing on it, he heard rasping sounds "Fools!" he called to the darkness. "What's the good of moaning? If you're so cold, come sit by the fire and warm yourselves."

No sooner had he spoken when a pair of black cats dragged their torn and twisted bodies into the light. He wished for a moment that he'd asked for a ball of yarn. Cats loved to play with such things. It would certainly pa.s.s the time quicker to play with the cats. As they drew closer, he noticed a strange white film over their eyes, gaping holes in their bellies, and dried blood on their whiskers. Then he noticed their wicked claws.

"My goodness!" he exclaimed. "What long nails you have. I think they need a tr.i.m.m.i.n.g."

With that, he seized them by the scruffs of their necks, lifted them to the smith's anvil and workbench and made their paws fast in the vise. "Now that I've had a look at those claws, I don't feel like playing with the likes of you." He crushed their tiny heads with the hammer and carried the bodies to the pond out front and tossed them in.

But when he got rid of those two and was sitting down by his fire again, black cats and black dogs with red-hot chains came rus.h.i.+ng out from every nook and shadow. More and more of them came until there was no place for him to escape to. They mewled and growled, so many that his fire was practically trampled and put out.

He watched calmly for a while, marveling at how some of them could even walk, their injuries so grievous. Eventually, he had had enough and seized his hammer, shouting, "Get out, you no-goods!" With all his might he swung at the beasts. Some tried to drag themselves away, but he killed them all and tossed them into the pond.

When he came back, he blew on the embers of his fire and then warmed himself. As he was sitting there, he could hardly keep his eyes open, and wanted to sleep. He looked around and saw a great bed in the corner. That's just what I need, he thought, and lay down. But as he was closing his eyes, the bed began to roll of its own accord, and went rolling all around the castle.

"Perfect," he said, "but faster would be better." And on it rolled as if drawn by six horses, through doorways and up and down stairs. All of a sudden, hop, hop, it turned over upside down and lay on top of him like a mountain.

But he threw off the pillows and blankets, climbed out and said, "Now if you've a mind to, go right on a-rolling." Then he lay down by his fire and slept until daylight.

In the morning, the governor came in. When he saw the young man lying on the floor, he thought the ghouls had killed him. "What a pity," he said. "Such a strapping and handsome boy."

The young man heard him, sat up and said, "Not so fast."

The governor was not only amazed, but absolutely thrilled. He asked the lad how he'd made out.

"Pretty good," he said. "One night has pa.s.sed, the two others will do so as well." Then, he excused himself and headed to the inn for breakfast.

"I never expected to see you alive again," the innkeeper gasped, his eyes almost bugging out of his head. "Have you found the creeps?"

"No," he said. "It's hopeless. If only someone would tell me!"

On the second night he returned to the castle, sat down by the fire, and started talking to himself, his same old song. "If only I could get the creeps!"

At the approach of midnight, a din and a hub-bub were heard, first softly, then louder and louder. Then it was still for a while, and then, with horrible groans and moans, half a man came down the chimney and fell in front of him.

"Hey!" cried the young man. "That's not enough. where's the other half?" Then there was another rumbling and the other half landed with a wet splat.

"Wait," said the young man. "I'll stir the fire up for you." When he'd done so, he looked around. The upper half of the body had dragged itself up to his workbench. "That wasn't our bargain," said the young man, "the bench is mine."

The horrible half-man pawed at the young lad, trying to claw and bite, but the lad wouldn't let him; he shoved the living dead atrocity away and seated himself at the bench, resting one foot on the back of the head of the half-man. Then several more fell down the chimney as well.

"How rude to invite friends when you yourself are an intruder on my hospitality," the young man said. Pulling his hammer, he went to work on the skulls of the small mob of zombies. As he swung the heavy mallet, he hummed a tune. When he was finished, he stoked the fire and tossed the corpses in to add more warmth. Then he lay down and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning the governor came to check in on the young man. "How did you make out this time?"

"Some ghouls dropped in and I hummed them one of my favorite tunes."

"Didn't it give you the creeps?"

"Puh-lease," the young man said. "I had a blast. I just wish I knew what the creeps were!"

On the third night he sat down at his workbench again and said sadly, "If I could only get the creeps!"

When it grew late, six zombies shambled in. The young man quickly dispatched them. Afterwards, he discovered a lone coffin in the hall. That must be my cousin who died a few days ago, he thought. He flipped open the lid, "Come out, come out, dear cousin," he said, but nothing happened. He touched the cheek and discovered it was as cold as ice. "Wait, I'll warm you a little."

He went to his fire and warmed his hands, then touched the face once more, but it stayed cold. He took the body out, laying the head in his lap and rubbed the arms to start the blood moving. When that didn't work, he remembered how when you lie in bed together, you warm each other; so he put him into the bed, covered him up and got in with him. After a while the body began to move.

"See cousin. I've warmed you, haven't I?" But the dead body reached over and tried to bite the young man. "What?" he cried. "Is this my thanks?" And he rolled out of bed, scooped up the squirming corpse and threw it back into its coffin, closing the lid.

He remembered how he'd had to use his hammer before as he listened to the scratching and struggling from within the coffin. He flipped open the lid and brought his hammer down on his dead cousin's skull. Meanwhile, he thought, I just can't get the creeps...I'll never learn how to in this place if I live to be a hundred.

Then, an old man came in; he was bigger than all the rest. His stomach was a gaping hole and all manner of his insides hung down to his knees. The young man shook his head. This one would make quite a mess. He led the old man to the area by his anvil which had no carpets and would be easier to clean.

He yanked the man down by the beard so that his head was square on the anvil and brought his mallet down so hard that he split the anvil. Then, he wandered the halls. That is when he found the door to the cellar. Down there, he found three chests of gold.

"Hmm," said the young man. "This is far too much for three nights' work clearing a castle of ghouls who couldn't put up much of a fight. One chest shall be for the poor, one shall be for the governor, and one for me." He returned to the warmth of his fire and went to sleep. In the morning, the governor arrived as usual.

"I bet you know what the creeps are now."

"No," the young man replied. "But I did see my cousin who became one of the ghouls, along with a great big man, but no creeps." He paused, then added, "Oh yeah...and I found three chests of gold."

"You've set the castle free!" the governor exclaimed. "And stopped the ghouls from making their way to the countryside to infect the citizens. For that, you shall marry my daughter."

"Great," the lad shrugged. "But I still didn't get the creeps."

The gold was brought up and the wedding was celebrated. But as much as he loved his wife and as happy as he was, he continued to lament, "If only I could get the creeps. If only I could get the creeps." Eventually it really began to annoy his new bride.

"Don't you fret," the housemaid whispered. "Leave it to me, I'll give him the creeps." That night she hid all of his new bride's expensive make-up, hairbrushes, and even the toothbrush.

In the morning, when the young man woke to the sun and saw his bride's head on the pillow beside him without her exotic make-up, then took a deep whiff of her morning breath, he whispered, "Now, at last I have the creeps!"

5.

The Zombie and the Seven Kids.

Based on:.

Der Wolf und die sieben jungen Geilein.

Once there was a middle-aged woman with seven kids, and she loved them very much. One day she needed to go to the DHS office to renew her food stamp card, so she called all seven in from where they were playing in the empty field out behind the trailer.

"Dear children, I'm going to DHS. There's been strange things on the news lately about attacks by people who were once thought to be dead," she said. "I want you to stay inside and not let anybody in but me."

"Yes, mother," the chorus of children's voices sang back. "We will be careful. You don't need to worry about us." The woman kissed her children and went about the day's business with an easy mind.

It was not long before the meaty slap of a hand sounded at the door. A zombie had been drawn by the sounds of the children playing inside the trailer. They grew quiet, s.h.i.+vering at the sounds of a low moan that carried above the sound of the daytime talk show blaring on the television.

"Maybe it's mom," one of the children whispered. "She might be hurt."

"We aren't opening the door," the oldest child said. "Our mother has a beautiful voice. You've heard her when she sings us to sleep at bedtime."

The children stayed silent for a long time, and eventually the zombie wandered away. But soon, another came and this one sounded like it was whimpering because of the great hole in its throat.

"Maybe that's mom," one of the children again whispered.

"Look at the shadow in the gla.s.s," the oldest pointed out. "Mom has beautiful, long hair."

Once again, they were quiet until the zombie outside grew bored and wandered away.

Next door, at the trailer of the Miller family, the wife had been out in the garden when a zombie snuck up from behind and bit into her shoulder, then tore away part of her face as she kicked and screamed. The husband peeked out and saw it and feared that he might be next. He quickly got the zombie in the garden and his newly risen wife's attention. He led them around the corner and to the trailer next door where the children hid. Yes, that is the way people are.

For the third time there was a noise at the door and the sound of a hand scratching away. The oldest looked and saw the shadow of a woman with long, wavy hair, just like their mother. He opened the door and was immediately dragged down by the zombie of the neighbor's wife.

The children were scared to death and tried to hide. One slipped under the table, another into the bed and under the covers, the third into the oven, one into the cupboard under the kitchen sink, and another into the dryer. The youngest managed to fit inside the grandfather clock that had been pa.s.sed down through the family.

More zombies stumbled into the house and, one by one, the children were found and devoured. The only child not discovered was the one inside the grandfather clock. Eventually, the zombie mob was finished and they stumbled out in search for more victims. Even the children eventually rose and joined the madness.

A little later, the mother returned home. The sight that her eyes beheld was heartbreaking. The front door was still wide open. Table, chairs, and the sofa were overturned; the dryer had its door ripped off and was smeared with blood; blankets and pillows had been torn off the bed. She looked for her children, but there were none to be found. She cried their names one after another, but no one answered. Finally, when she called out for the youngest, a thin voice cried out.

"I'm in the clock, mother."

She brought him out and he told her how the zombies had come and eaten all the others. You can imagine how she wept over her poor children. Turning on the television, she saw that the problem had indeed spread. The government was now advising people to head to FEMA-run emergency shelters.

Gathering a few things, she scooped up her youngest child and prepared to evacuate to safety. The last thing she grabbed was her ex-husband's revolver from the shelf in the closet.

As they stepped out onto the porch, Mister Miller from next door heard the mother speaking words of comfort to her child. He decided to crawl out from under the trailer where he'd hidden the entire time, listening as his undead wife and the other zombies had broken into the trailer and eaten the children inside.

Poking his head out, Mister Miller wasn't paying attention and hit his knee on a cinder block that was helping to support the trailer. He moaned in pain.

The mother heard the noise and drew the revolver. A head peeked out from under her trailer. Aiming at the back of the balding head, she fired the weapon. The body twitched and stopped moving.

"C'mon, sweetie," the mother hugged her youngest child close and pulled the door shut, "once we get to the shelter we'll be safe."

6.

John Based on: Der Treue Johannes It had been almost a decade since the dead rose, walked, and attacked the living. In that time, small pockets of humanity built bastions to keep themselves safe. In one such place, the man who had a large hand in securing the location, building its defenses, and bringing in other survivors, finally fell prey. It was a small bite really. But then, that is all it takes.

On his deathbed, strapped in and awaiting his final breath as one of the living, he called in the man who had been considered by most to be his chief lackey. Having been saved from certain death by the man everybody now just called The President, this lackey, John, was about as faithful and trustworthy as The President could hope to find. And that is exactly who The President had summond to his room just before he was about to turn.

When John arrived, The President nodded for him to come sit beside his bed and listen to his last request. "My good friend, I feel that my end is near. Only one thing weighs on my mind: my son is still at an age where he doesn't know what is best for him. I won't be able to die in peace unless you promise to take him under your care, teach him all he needs to know, and be the father to him that I will no longer be able to be."

"I will never leave his side, sir," John replied. "I'll teach him all there is to know about surviving in this new world, and protect him to the last...even if it requires that I have to give my life for that cause."

"Now my mind can rest," The President groaned. "And after my death, you must show him the entire compound. Make certain he knows about every vault and storeroom, but, keep him out of my observation tower. If he manages to get an eyeful of one of those hotties at that compound across the river...well, he might start thinking with the wrong head. I've seen one gal in particular who has had me thinking about running the gauntlet. You need to keep him from that."

When John had promised, the man known as The President lay back and closed his eyes. A moment later, they opened again. John took the drill from the guard and personally bore a hole in the zombie's forehead, putting him down once and for all.

After the corpse had been burned, John sought out the man's son, Brandon King, but everybody just called him Junior. John explained all he had promised his father on his deathbed.

"That is a promise I intend to keep," John said. "Your father risked his life to save me, and I will gladly give mine to keep you safe."

Once the young man had been allowed an appropriate amount of time to grieve, John sought Junior out. "It's time to show you what your dad has left behind. This compound is yours to oversee now, and there is much to show you."

He led him to the secret cooridors where all the emergency supplies, food, gardening equipment, and weapons were stashed. There was one door he did not open. It was the door that led to the observation tower. That door led to a set of stairs that ended in a room with the telescope set up right at the window and pointed directly into the window of the room belonging to the very same hottie that The President had been trying to get to when he was bitten.

Of course Junior noticed that John had shown him what was behind every door but one. He pulled up in the hallway and refused to take another step.

"Why don't you ever open that door?" Junior asked.

"Because," John replied, "what lies beyond will bring you nothing but trouble."

"I've seen everything else," Junior insisted. "And now I want to know what's on the other side of that door."