The following piece was presented at Jersey City Writers’ literary event – 800 Dirty Words. Please enjoy.
Lucinda was terrified; she realized she had made a mistake, an awful mistake- Walking in the deserted Zone. She knew it was risky- The Warning signs, signed by the Leader, made that clear. So, now she was being hunted by those foot dragging, slow paced sub humans identified as Zombies- Type SX401. Dangerous!
Looking around for safe refuge, Lucinda saw an old warehouse. It was a former Prayer Book manufacturing concern. Little comfort that was! She ran towards it. There was no time to meditate or regret- She needed to hide.
Into the building she went, kicking the door open. Before she could breath a sigh of relief, to her terror stood a circle of horror leering, drooling male zombies. Their faces covered with ugly smiles and lecherous eyes. Even the faces with one or half an eye told her, exactly what was on their minds.
There was no retreating now. Every way she ran, every turn she made, was countered, blocked by smiling, drooling zombies!
Her brain was confused, not being able to distinguish between which was more repulsive, their smiles or smells. It was the awful smell of rotting flesh- as pungent as dead fish or fresh early morning human feces.
Lucinda was in full terror as three zombies got close, cutting off her escape; they began ripping at her blouse, tearing and exposing her newly stolen bra.
Another zombie, tripped her to the floor as he laughed an unearthly giggle. Still, another two creatures with hands that were warm and covered with open sores and unhealed scabs started pulling her shoes off, her skirt. Terrified she screamed again and again but the more she screamed the more they seemed to enjoyed her fear!
The room was spinning… now her panty hose was being pulled down; tired of standing around the eldest of zombies began tearing at her clothing, tearing off their shirts exposing their rotting flesh, pulling down their pants showing their ugly balls hanging like large over ripe pit-less olives. One of the ugliest got down on his rotted knee caps, tongue hanging out of his mouth, his one eye, wide open, distracting Lucinda from the hole that once housed his other eyeball.
At that instant from somewhere in the back of this crowd of rotting flesh an unearthly screamed was heard!
It was Yacht-Su Harold, chief of the zombies. He ordered the others ‘Away’. Lucinda thought, ‘Rescue,’ that is until the fateful words- “She is mine.”
Lucinda frightened but not yet ready to surrender noticed that at one time this man must have been handsome, muscular. Rotted breasts and faded tattoos attested to this once virile man.
He unzipped his filthy pants… then dropped them. His ripped his stained, underwear down, proudly exposing his cock, a withered, smelly hunk of meat. The cock was not so much frightening as disgusting. It was clear, she thought, how this ‘story’ was going to end.
Now in trauma mode, Lucinda recognized, she had to get away… now or never.
The zombies have one strong weakness. They were slow- in every way- the way they looked at things, walked, bent down. If she could find a way to distract them she might escape what awaited her!
So as Yacht-Su Wong (pronounced: yacht-sue) began bending towards her with a look that was supposed to show he was ‘zombie hot stuff’. Lucinda took her one shot- she reached up for his cock and pulled as hard as she could and tearing it off!!
The proud leader of the zombies screamed in profound pain. Immediately, Lucinda rolled onto her side, stood up and ran up the nearest staircase, still holding the cock.
Her steam was up, even without shoes. But she remembered… “Oh shit, my panties, I can’t leave them.” She turned and ran back down, swooped them up and took off again. She was a bit safer as all the zombies were trying to comfort their penis-less leader.
“Get her! Get her,” screamed Yacht-SU Harold “Get her, she has my cock!”
Up the stairs higher and higher she climbed until she reached a platform overlooking the lower level. She ran to the railing, looked down at scene. Smiling, she cried out, “Have you ever seen a dick fly?” And like the girlie softball pitcher she once was, did a windmill wind-up and flung the dick out over the startled zombies who began running in total confusion trying to catch a flying dick!
She turned and disappeared down a long passage way.