Trevor figured nails were also out of the question. Unsure of an alternative, he pulled the window’s thin curtain away and waited with the fire axe raised like a baseball bat. The Witch Bitch poured another cup of tea and raised it to his lips. He could either drink it or let it dribble down his chin, so he drank. It tasted salty, but the wetness felt good in his mouth.
“That’s good, stranger,” she said. “You look like you needed some.”
“It’s not too bad.” Trevor licked his lips. “Josh, you should have a drink. We need to keep our energy up.”
“I’m not drinking that piss,” he said to the lady. “I don’t trust you.”
The Witch Bitch was quite tickled. “I had no intention of offering you any.”
The conversation ended when something pounded on the door. The doorknob was tried and then harder pounding. The dresser was shoved back an inch. Josh pushed on it, wincing with each thrust against the door. Trevor was focused on watching the window and jumped when distorted faces of death appeared. They slapped the window with their palms and tried to claw at the pane. Finally a hand grabbed a front zombie’s hair and smashed its head through the glass. The zombie was dazed at first, but then smiled up at Trevor. He returned the gesture and brought the spike end down on its head. Its eyelids twitched as he propped a foot against its cheek to push on while pulling the spike out. Then he resumed his baseball stance. The useless corpse was shoved to the ground outside and was replaced by another moaning one.
“Shit,” Trevor said. “We were better off staying at the police station.”
The door was pushed open enough for a creature to get its head through. Josh strained hard against the dresser. Trevor pulled the pistol out and shot the zombie between the eyes. It fell back, allowing Josh to shove the door closed again. The Witch Bitch covered her ears, annoyed. Hands reached inside and tried the door, but receded when the axe chopped off a few fingers. Next, Trevor turned in time to put a bullet in the side of a window zombie’s head.
There was a chorus of excited grunts outside. Something had caught their attention and they were frenzied. The pounding ceased. The faces disappeared from the windows. The men exchanged “what the fuck” glances and looked at the old lady, who grabbed a broom to sweep the broken glass.
“Maybe it’s over.” Josh relaxed his shoulders.
The door burst open with a tremendous force. The dresser slid across the room and toppled over, knocking Josh to the floor. Zachary stood at the threshold with zombies gathered behind it. Its silver eyes flickered in the light from the fireplace. Black sludge oozed from the corner of its mouth as well as the holes in its forehead and cheek, dripping down its naked body. It looked really pissed off.
“My my,” the Witch Bitch said. “If I’d known I’d have so much company this evening, I would have taken a bath.”
Josh unsheathed the knife strapped to his ankle and crouched. Trevor lunged at the monster with the axe, but it caught the handle, sniffed him, and slung him out the door. He managed to keep the axe as a horde of eager zombies caught him. The weapon was pried away and tossed aside, and he was held by a dozen hands. He heard Josh yell as he wrestled inside with Zachary. The cottage was filled with the old lady’s laughter as Josh broke free from the creature’s grasp and leapt outside. He’d lost the knife, so he looked around for the axe. Then something stepped in front of him that made him freeze.
His undead mother stood before him. Josh’s eyes were wide with horror. He tried to move on, but she grabbed him by the arms and held tight. He looked into her loving eyes and forgot himself for a moment. She ran her fingers across his cheek with a gentle stroke to calm him. His nephew remained inside the cottage next to the Witch Bitch and watched. When Josh’s breathing showed signs of slowing, she jerked him about-face. His pulse quickened once more as he stared at Zachary’s cold glare. Finally, he broke down and whimpered.
Trevor tried to prepare himself for a gruesome death, thinking that if his mother passed away that night, at least he would be able to join her and say how sorry he was. But he didn’t understand why his captors hadn’t made a feast of him yet. They fought over each other to be among the ones holding him, but their only purpose was to prevent his escape. He almost gagged at the fetid air they were exhaling as they grunted and groaned around him. He could only watch Josh receive his fate and wonder if he was next.
Not if I can help it, he thought. I’m not finished, yet.
He writhed around to get the gun from his holster and held it up. It waved around as the hands on his arm attempted to control him. When the gun appeared to be pointed at the nephew, he squeezed off a few shots. The bullets drilled into its head and arm, but didn’t slow it from biting a hole out of Josh’s neck. Josh wriggled in his mother’s arms like a warm lizard in its owner’s hands. Zachary rose up to chew, allowing the blood to gush out and across its body. Then Josh’s screams turned to gurgles as the nephew stuck fingers from both hands into the wound and separated his head from the body with slow but strong tugs.
As the twitching corpse slumped to the ground, the zombies took turns letting go of Trevor until he stood alone with the gun in hand and a perplexed look on his face. He turned in a circle and watched the undead walk away, uninterested. Zachary looked at him, its appearance even more ghastly with the blood glistening in the moonlight. Trevor aimed the pistol again, knowing full well it wouldn’t do any good. He was more prepared to run than shoot, anyway.
The hatred was no longer in its face. Now it carried the same, dull look as the rest as it walked to the side of the cottage, knelt down, and dug into the earth with its hands. He looked around to see the other zombies wandering into the woods to do the same.
The Witch Bitch appeared in the doorway and grinned at Trevor. He asked her what was going on and she replied, “The curse has been fulfilled, stranger. Joshua’s family is dead along with anyone who lived in town. He was the last one involved. Aren’t you happy you were just passing through and not planning to settle down?”
“But…” Trevor thought hard about it. “But they still tried to kill me, earlier tonight.”
“Well, so long as the curse was in action, they’d kill whoever crossed their paths. That’s what the tea was for. It’s a repellant. You seem like a nice young man, so I wanted to help. I like your red hair.” She sniffed the air and frowned at the outhouse. “You need to change your eating habits, though. It’s not good to be at the mercy of your rear end.”
Trevor nodded. “What are they doing now?” His body was shaking all over as he watched the undead hunched over on their knees, scooping up handfuls of soil and piling it next to them.
The Witch Bitch mused. “They’re doing what’s meant for the dead. They’re putting themselves in the ground where they belong.” She took another sip of her tea. “I’ll have to take a vacation. They won’t be able to dig very deep in this rocky ground and I don’t have any lime. It might get a bit smelly around here. Maybe I can sell the land as a cemetery since the job’s half done.”
Trevor watched in awe while the nephew dug its hole without concern of its fingers losing chunks of flesh on the rocks and roots it pulled up. Once it was finished and began crawling in, the old lady said, “Sweetheart, would you be a dear and clean up your mess before calling it quits.”
With a loud sigh, it obeyed by placing Josh’s head and body into the hole and covering it up. Then it dug a new hole to crawl into and pulled the dirt over itself until only a few fresh mounds were visible. That was the last Trevor saw of the Witch Bitch. She closed the door to her cottage and went about her business, humming a happy tune unknown to him.
He walked wearily down the dark driveway, listening to the zombies in the woods as they dug their graves. He considered going back to town. After all, it should be safe now. He wondered about returning to the police station and destroying any files that they’d created on him, to try erasing any trace of his being there and thus avoid a police search for him. He could also bury the license p
late on his car and burn it, so it would be harder to trace back to him. As he thought about it, however, he remembered they’d called another station, who was due to pick him up in the morning. They’d be looking for him, regardless.
Then he thought about locking himself back in the cell and pretending not to know of the chaos that occurred around him. No, that wouldn’t fly either. One way or the other, he’d be put away while they tried to sort all this out, which would keep him from seeing his mother.
He needed to just hit the road and deal with the authorities later. If they tried to blame all of the deaths on him, he would just tell the truth and end up in a nuthouse for the rest of his days. He figured that would be better than death row.
So with his mind made up, Trevor decided to work his way to Springfield. With luck, he would be able to visit her one last time before everyone started looking for him. Even though he knew there were plenty of cars and trucks to choose from back in town, he didn’t want to risk getting pulled over and arrested for stealing a vehicle. Instead, when he reached the dirt road, he went on to the crossroads and turned left as Josh had instructed. He made it to the highway and hitched a ride to his destination.
Fortunately, his mother had recovered overnight. He was there for her when she awoke in time for lunch, and he greeted her with a warm embrace. When asked why he looked so pale and exhausted, he only said, “I ate some bad Chinese food.”
Wolf Plugs
The anxious townspeople were gathered in the courthouse at the center of town. The windows were boarded up and the only door to the place was reinforced with steel planks. Every scratch, snarl, and howl from outside caused them to flinch in unison.
One man was exceptionally upset, and for good reason. Those around him tried to ease his nerves, but he kept repeating, “She’s out there, hiding in our home. We’ve got to save my wife!”
“We can’t reach her, Hans,” the others told him. “They’re everywhere out there. We just have to pray they don’t find her.”
A knock at the door sent a hush over the crowd and all faces jerked toward it. The constable and his deputy inched closer, debating on whether or not they should open it.
“It’s my wife!” Hans was in hysterics. “Let her in!”
The deputy turned to the constable. “The beasts don’t usually knock.”
“You’re right. Plus, the building is surrounded with silver and wolf’s bane. Whoever it is, they’re probably human.”
They removed the planks and allowed the door to creak open. In rolled a hotel luggage cart carrying a huge chest and other odds and ends. Behind it was a bearded man wearing a multilayered duster and fedora. Once inside, he regarded the room and said to the deputy. “Close the door, son. There are werewolves out there.”
“Yes, sir!” He obeyed and then stood back.
Since the man already had everyone’s attention, he removed his leather gloves and proceeded with an introduction. “Hello, my good people. My name is Doctor Thaddeus Gutenheimer, and I understand you are in need of a werewolf hunter. Well, I am the one you seek.”
Hope glimmered in the eyes of the crowd.
“This is a lovely place, by the way. It’s got that down-home feel.”
A voice rose from the pews. “How can you tell? It’s night and the entire town is swimming in fog. You can’t see a thing.”
Thaddeus’s smile was only visible by the movement under his thick whiskers. “Ah, smart lad there. I’ve been watching the area all day. You see, I needed to observe and determine what kind of werewolf is afflicting you before I decide the best method of ridding them.”
The constable was intrigued. “So, what kind are they?”
“Timber wolves! They are unique, too. You see, timber wolves have this obsession… with the anus.”
The younger townspeople snickered while the older ones gasped.
“No, hear me out because it all makes sense. Wolves have a fascination with the moon, correct? Well, what is it called when you bare your rear end to someone? You are ‘mooning’ them. There is an obvious connection. Moreover, it is a little known fact that timber wolves enjoy having anal intercourse with their prey before eating them. The same goes with our stalkers outside. They relish the sex most, and eating you afterwards is considered a minor bonus. This location attracts them, as well, being in the middle of a deep valley surrounded by woods. You heard me right; this town is like one big, hairy anus to them.”
A woman covered her child’s ears. “Please, get to the point.”
“Very well.” He opened the chest on his luggage cart. “I have just what you need right here. These won’t kill the werewolves, but you will be able to walk among them without as much as a scratch.” He held up a cone-shaped piece of rubber for all to see. “Silver-plated butt plugs. Each of you must wear one, and because they won’t be able to go near your anuses, they’ll leave you alone.”
Nervous laughter erupted in front of him.
“How else do you think I was able to reach you? How did I get here with my cart if they didn’t work?”
Gunshots split the air outside, followed by pounding on the door. The deputy opened it and a man stepped in with smoking pistols and ammo belts draped over his shoulders. “I am a werewolf hunter! I am here to help you!”
A hairy arm reached from behind and wrapped its clawed fingers around his face. He screamed as he was dragged back into the fog and ripped to shreds. The deputy rushed to secure the door once again.
“See?” Thaddeus said. “He wasn’t wearing a butt plug. Now, do you have any questions before I dispense your protection?”
A hand was raised and he called on her. “What about she-wolves? How would they be kept away? After all, they don’t have the proper… equipment… to do what you claim they do.”
“Excellent question, my dear lady! Another lesser-known fact about werewolves is that they’re hermaphrodites. They are both male and female, and therefore have all the necessary parts to perform the task.”
Another hand rose. “This idea is fine and all, but what about killing them? I, for one, don’t want to be stuck wearing one those things all the time.”
“Another great question! My, we’ve got a bright bunch here.” He unzipped a satchel on the cart and held up a thermometer. “Silver and wolf’s bane work well as deterrents, but this is the only thing that can exterminate them, permanently. Quicksilver, also known as mercury, will kill them the moment it joins with their bloodstream. So you stab them with a thermometer and break it off. You’ll be able to get close enough to do this because they won’t be trying to kill you.”
This encouraged more hands in the air, but Thaddeus waved them off. “Okay, no more questions. You fine people have been cooped up here long enough and my time is important. This isn’t the only town in need of my services, you know. The line forms to my right and you’ll get one plug and a thermometer for a pound of gold. Smaller plugs for the little tikes are free of charge. Don’t worry, there’s nothing naughty about it. It’s for their safety and can be thought of as a suppository.”
No one moved from the pews.
“What?”
The constable walked closer and leaned to his ear. “This is a rather poor town. They can’t afford a pound of gold.”
“Ah, I see. Well how about a pound of silver?”
Nothing.
“A half-pound of silver. That’s my final offer. It’s silver for silver, for crying out loud! I won’t make any money this way, but I like you folks and want to help.”
The townspeople were convinced. They stood in a line with small pouches of silver to exchange. They put the thermometers in their pockets, and then each took turns going to the judge’s chamber to insert the protection. Afterwards, most stood around - afraid to sit - with uncomfortable looks on their faces. A few, however, had great difficulty hiding their smiles.
Thaddeus locked the last money pouch in a safe and clasped his hands together. “Is that everyone?”
“No!” Ha
ns approached him. “My wife, Claudia, is trapped in our home. We need to get one to her.”
“Oh dear, she’s most likely become a victim by now.”
“But we’re safe, right? We can check on her, and bring her a butt plug.”
Thaddeus nodded. “Yes, and without haste.”
Hans, the constable, and the deputy joined him as he pushed his cart outside. The others were still unsure, so they remained in the courthouse. The men were plunged into complete darkness. The constable’s lantern was useless against the fog. They were surrounded by the sounds of the beasts, and although they were left untouched, all but the hunter were terrified. The deputy wet his pants.
It seemed they would be unable to locate Hans’s cottage, but then they heard a woman scream.
“That’s her!” Hans rushed to the sounds with the rest close behind. When they reached the front door, however, Thaddeus stopped them from entering. “Wait, I’m afraid it is too late for the missus. However, this is the perfect opportunity to exact revenge. Are you up for it, Hans?”
“Oh, my pumpkin! My sweetie-pie!”
“Quiet! Do you want to kill the werewolf or not?”
“You betcha.”
“Okay. The screaming has stopped, so right about now, it’s having anal intercourse with her corpse.”
“No! No! That bastard had best stay out of her rear! She wouldn’t even let me in there, and I’m the love of her life!”
“Shh! You need to act while it’s distracted. Sneak inside and put your thermometer up its butt.”
Hans smiled. “Yes! Good idea! I shall return momentarily.” He crept into the cottage and all was quiet for several minutes. Then he jumped back out and cheered, “I did it!”
Thaddeus doubted him. “You stuck it in?”
“Yes!”
“And you broke it off to release the quicksilver?”
“Oh, I forgot that part.”
The constable groaned. “So you walked in there while a werewolf was having butt sex with your dead wife, you stuck a thermometer up its rear and left, and you’re cheering about it?”
Zombies, Werewolves, Whores, and More! Page 5