Women Scorned

by Angela Alsaleem

  The gardening woman screamed and ran toward the back of her house. This was going to be more fun than Aludra had anticipated.

  She laughed as she followed her new playmate.

  Aludra reached the woman as she struggled with her back door, apparently unable to work the knob in her frenzied state. Just as she succeeded in opening it, the dark virgin laced one arm around the woman’s waist then put her free hand around her mouth to stifle any screams, squeezing the struggling woman against her. She dragged her inside.

  The woman’s legs relaxed and she went to her knees. Aludra grunted as she fell with the weight, but regained control quickly and hauled the woman up. She kicked the back door shut and found herself in a lit room with two large machines off to one side and a basket full of clothes. Such colorful clothes, she thought. She looked around, almost forgetting what she had come into the room to do.

  When the screaming lady bit her hand, Aludra almost dropped her, allowing the woman to get hold of her long braid and pull, but this only lasted a moment. She used stockings that were draped over one of the machines to bind the woman. Once she was restrained, Aludra examined the mark left on her hand.

  “Maybe you have experienced the pleasures of pain,” she whispered, then licked her wound, shuddering with closed eyes. She propped the woman up against the corner, sat on her legs, and took out her dagger. She held the blade up to the light and admired how it gleamed across the curved surface. Her new playmate cringed when Aludra wiggled the razor sharp edge before her eyes.

  “How does this feel?” She dragged the tip across the woman’s cheek, relishing the scream, the sight of fresh blood welling, then spilling over. Tears ran down the woman’s face, mingling with her blood as she struggled.

  She dipped her finger in this new mixture and tasted it. “No, you have to focus on the sensation. Focus and you’ll see pain is the only way to know you’re alive. Here, let me show you.” She placed her hand between the woman’s legs and pressed, massaging. The woman squealed and tried to pull away. “Like this.” She moved her hand in a circular motion while cutting the woman’s face again.

  Screaming, thrashing her bound body from side to side, the woman tried to pull away and kick her feet.

  “If you act like that, you will never know the pleasures of pain. Now focus,” Aludra hissed. She ground her teeth as she grabbed the woman’s breast and squeezed. “Doesn’t that hurt so good? Isn’t the pain beautiful? Do you want more?”

  Her head thrashed from side to side, eyes wide and full of venom, never leaving Aludra’s.

  Suddenly, Aludra was filled with an odd sensation as a vision that was more like a tidal wave of feelings engulfed her. She cocked her head as if listening to something far away, her face becoming expressionless.

  Rory speeding, flying toward her, lost in the dark, getting closer, closer, the smell of dirt, of road, of rain, of trees, sound of wind and machine and music like what they played in the manor, darkness suffocating, the feeling pushing her, filling her. The One was near. It stopped. Not far now. Not far.

  She came back to herself, shook her head, looked at the soiled blade in her hand. She turned her attention back to the sobbing woman under her.

  “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to… cut… this lesson short, my love,” Aludra told the blubbering woman. “It seems I have other business to which I must attend.”

  The woman screamed a muffled, “No,” over and over before Aludra cut her throat. The blood spouted from her artery and ran down her front. The slash in her neck looked like a fancy choker, accenting her tender skin. The woman’s eyes glazed over as they lost focus.

  Aludra stood, wiping her blade on her pants. She put the knife away, then rubbed her hands on her shirt.

  Without warning, the bright tendrils appeared again, plunging into the woman’s body to rip her spirit into the ether. Aludra watched in awe, having never experienced something so incredible before leaving the manor. And now she’d seen it twice. The woman’s spirit was stronger, clearer than the road man’s broken being. The glowing shadow reached for Aludra, hands like claws, as the tendrils dragged it into the point of origin. Just before the vines of light and the spirit vanished, a scream split the silence, bursting through her head. She pressed her palms over her ears until it vanished.

  “You’ll be free soon enough, my love,” she said as she left the house feeling exhausted but satisfied. This would only be for a short time. Find the spirit, then rest. She sighed, looked again in the direction of the hidden gateway to the manor and muttered, “You’ll all be free soon enough.” She looked toward the trees, toward the direction of the spirit she hunted. She headed where she was drawn, along the dead man’s road, but stayed hidden behind the shrubs and bushes.

  She skipped along her way, whistling a haunting tune. After a while, when the light in the sky became almost unbearable, she stopped. Across the road, a path covered in broken rocks led away from her, twin ruts marking something’s passage. Rory was up that path. And it wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.

  Aludra looked around for a darkened area - in the forest, on the side of the road - however, everywhere was too bright. She sat at the base of a tree facing the rocky path and took off her bag. She pulled out another shirt, put it over her face, and leaned against the bark, asleep before she had time to think about resting.

  Chapter Four

  Finally home, Libitina sat in her SUV, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Taking the body from the morgue had been less work and not as messy as digging one up, but that didn’t rid her of the queasy knot twisting her stomach. She flinched at every pair of headlights she saw in her rearview mirror on the way home. Early morning light glowed around her house, but darkness crowded her mind, and fear made her see pursuers around every corner.

  “What have I done?” she whispered, thinking of what could happen. The hospital had never caught her when she’d snuck in but this was different. Sure, she was still dressed as a man. The cameras would show Burly Joe stealing a body. They wouldn’t know to look for a woman. With a sigh, she got out of the car.

  “Well, what’s done is done. I can’t take her back.” Libitina opened her trunk and flinched when she saw the corpse. It had shifted during the drive and the white sheet no longer covered its face.

  “She looks like she’s screaming.” She shuddered and ran to the side of the car to let Cerberus out. He yipped and jumped around before seeking refuge in the house through the doggy door.

  Back to her task. Libitina’s hands slipped over the slimy surface of the dead woman’s flesh. She shuddered then lifted the body out of the trunk. As she carried it inside, she buried her nose in Jane’s hair, smelling the decay. It wasn’t a strong aroma but it wasn’t unpleasant either.

  The trees provided a dense cover. No one could see her home unless they were right next to it. She had no reason to worry about anyone observing her.

  Once safely inside, she pulled the corpse into the kitchen and through a narrow door in the far corner. Steps led down through the black emptiness at a steep angle. This was her basement, her autopsy room.

  Halfway down the stairs, the body lodged against the hand rail. Libitina pressed herself against the wall, shifting her heavy burden, her sleeve turning gray with dust. Blood between its rigid legs squelched when she squeezed the thighs to keep from dropping it. Jane Doe was petite and light but awkward with the stagnant weight of death.

  At the bottom, she yanked the chain hanging from a bare bulb to light her macabre setup. Against the far wall, a sink and hospital-use chemicals called to her from a dusty set of shelves. She arranged the dead woman on the table in the middle of the room and flicked on the halogen operating light. She waved her hand over the empty eyes, close enough to catch the lashes, shutting them. She could feel the dead gaze and the cold emanating from the body and couldn’t stand it anymore.

  Libitina shivered, rubbing her arms for a moment, then turned away. She scrubbed her hands in a deep sink then u
sed a large, orange sponge to wipe the sticky coating covering the lifeless skin. She took special care to clean the blood from the woman’s crotch, removing all but the tiniest traces of coagulated clumps. She didn’t understand why the blood wasn’t already dry. It seemed fresh, as if it was still oozing from the wounds. But that wasn’t possible, so she ignored this thought. As she worked, her face was set, serious, her bushy eyebrows coming askew as the glue failed. Once she finished washing the body, she stepped back and smiled, wiping the back of her sleeve across her forehead.

  “There. Time for a shower and food.” She ran upstairs and removed her disguise, putting all the pieces in their proper places, then took a shower. As the warmth streamed over her body, she felt her anxiety ebb away and filter down the drain. This would be okay. A simple Jane Doe. No one would miss a Jane Doe. In fact, they probably secretly thanked her for taking the body off their hands. She should just quit worrying and do what work she could while everything was fresh.

  After her shower, she prepared a cheese sandwich. Her kitchen looked gray in the brightening rays of the sun. Her black curtains and black table and chairs made the room seem darker than it really was. Her t-shirt clung to her back beneath her wet hair. As she munched, she headed back towards the stairs, ready to start working again, but stopped just at the top, one foot hovering over the first step, listening.

  A soft noise crept up from the basement. She stared down into the yellow light. From her angle she could see the corpse’s feet but nothing else. The noise sounded like movement. She waited, watching.

  The right foot twitched. It was the smallest motion but it was there. Libitina dropped her sandwich and licked her lips, swallowing hard, one hand pressed over her mouth. Her eyes grew as she leaned forward, all attention on the foot. It twitched again. The toes wiggled.

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Oh, god.” The foot twitched yet again and Libitina flinched. But the Jane was dead. Libitina crept down the stairs, catlike, fixated on the moving foot. At the bottom, she peered around the corner at Jane’s face. As Libitina watched, the dead woman’s eyes popped open. The brown color looked rich and alive as the dead woman stared around the room, but she wasn’t moving. Libitina pulled her head further back around the corner and watched as it sat up.

  No way, she thought. Jane’s tongue dragged across those dry lips cracked in a lecherous grin. Then she blinked and shook her head.

  “Where the fuck…” the thing said as she looked around. She slid off the table leaving a red smear on the cold metal slab. She looked down at the mark and gagged. Fresh blood ran down her thighs in thick runnels separating at the knee making several thinner streams like red lightning strikes. It pooled where she stood, spread over the tops of her feet, collecting between her toes. When she walked, her feet made wet smacking sounds on the concrete floor.

  “What the hell’s going on?” she whined as she slopped toward the stairs in a slow lurch.

  Libitina hadn’t thought to move from her spot yet.

  The woman stopped, swayed, put her hand to her head. She fingered the bite marks on her breasts as she looked around, gathering her senses. When Jane Doe focused on the stairs again, Libitina realized she needed to run before she was spotted. Gathering her nerve, she crept up one stair at a time on wobbly legs that could no longer feel the floor.

  “Here, baby,” she whispered once at the top, scanning under the table and around the kitchen for her dog. “Cerberus, baby, come on.” She made soft whisper noises and held out her empty hand as if she had a treat. The tiny animal scuttled over and she scooped him up. Placing her fingers around his snout, she ducked around the side of her fridge and peeked at the still-open basement door.

  A zombie. Good god. She couldn’t believe it. The thing was dead. This was the only explanation, a zombie. Her heart yammered in her ears. Cerberus squirmed to be let down.

  She heard wet, stomping footsteps on the stairs and deep groans as the undead creature made its way toward the kitchen, toward the light. She was coming, she was coming, oh god, oh god. Libitina held still, hardly daring to breathe, fighting the struggling dog. It whimpered through her tight grip. She shushed him.

  The dead woman reached the landing.

  “Shit,” Jane said when she slipped in her own blood, almost falling. Her spiked black hair was matted to her forehead as she lumbered into the kitchen, looking straight down at the floor. Her hands hung at her sides, seemingly useless.

  She stopped and stood up straight, head rising slowly. Libitina had a great view of her back while she tried to magically merge into the fridge.

  Cerberus saw the thing and growled. His body tensed as he struggled to break free from Libitina’s grip to attack this stranger in his territory. She pulled his head into the crook of her arm. He tried to jerk it away, made a couple of muffled barks, and then relaxed. Zombie woman looked around the room, saw the door leading outside, and lurched toward it.

  When she was gone, Libitina let out a long sigh she didn’t realize she held. Her front door slammed as the corpse exited and walked down her porch steps into the driveway. Cerberus sniffed at the air then ran to the entrance yipping, tail held high, ears perked up. Libitina watched the corpse shuffle down her driveway and realized she’d been blessed with the opportunity of a lifetime. As if someone had flicked her “on” switch, she lit up and began rummaging around in her drawers until she came across her digital voice recorder. She grabbed a handful of batteries, stuffed them into her pocket, and glared out the window.

  The dead woman had made it to her car but not any further, yet. Libitina hurried, grabbing her trusty backpack and filled it with some of the dried foods stocking her shelves. After throwing in a few bottles of water, she grabbed Cerberus. She didn’t know how long she would be following her zombie or what situations might come up but she wanted to be prepared. She wanted enough food and water to last her a few days, if she was careful. If she needed more, she’d need to improvise. Once she finished her rushed packing, she secured Cerberus on his leash and ran out the door.

  He barked at the walking zombie heading down the driveway.

  “Hush, stupid,” Libitina hissed, jerking Cerberus back. He stopped but continued growling in a menacing tone. The woman shuffled onward, leaving bloody footprints like a trail of breadcrumbs for Libitina to track. When she disappeared around a bend, Libitina followed, keeping her distance.

  She brought out her recorder, pushed a button and spoke. “This is Libitina Flesher, pathology student. If someone finds this, assume I’m dead. I’ll tell you why. This is my documentation of an actual zombie encounter. I repeat, a zombie.” She paused, took a breath, smiled and then continued. “Okay, so I did something bad. I shouldn’t have stolen the body from the morgue, but I was desperate.” She sighed and said in a fast and low voice, “I mean, whoever finds this has to know where I got the body so they might be able to trace its origins. There could be further contamination, more zombies as of yet unfound.” She liked the sound of that. It would matter to whoever found this, if she wasn’t the one turning it in herself—if something were to happen to her—that she be professional. She needed to sound credible and knowledgeable for that matter. She would make it a point to do so.

  The zombie came back into view, shuffling along, chin resting on her chest. Libitina heard the sound of soft sobs creeping through the short distance separating them. Cerberus pulled the leash, ears perked at full attention as he snarled. Libitina jerked him back, side stepping behind a tall bush. She watched the dead woman through the branches, recorder held to her lips though she did nothing more than breathe into it.

  Once the zombie ambled out of sight, she whispered, “That was a close one. Right now, I’m following her from my house, but I don’t know where she’s going or how long I’ll be out here. I’ve packed enough food for about a week, if I eat sparingly, so we’ll see where it goes after that.” She clicked the recorder off and pursued.

  After a few steps she clicked the re
corder back on and said, “I don’t know exactly how I’m going to go about studying the zombie, but I must say I feel privileged that this task has fallen on my shoulders. I will be the first scientist to study a specimen of the living dead. I can’t believe this is happening to me. This might be my shot at breaking into the world of pathology. Maybe people will finally take me seriously. I bet the medical schools will be begging for me to join. What do you think, Cerberus?”

  The dog heard his name and looked over his shoulder, tongue lolling as he skipped along next to her, sniffing the air.

  “Yeah. They’ll be offering to allow me to study for free. No more demeaning myself for their benefit.” She adjusted the strap on her backpack. “One thing I’ll need to be really careful of though, if she’s hungry… well… we all know what zombies do. I don’t want to get bitten. I don’t want to be like her. If anyone finds me like that, please just kill me. Kill me in any way you can think to do it. Most of all, I just can’t stomach the thought of her feeding on me.”

  She stepped back into the bushes again as the driveway straightened and watched her zombie until it walked out of sight. She continued whispering her soliloquy.

  “So, the body came from the morgue. I know I shouldn’t have taken it. I already said that. But she was listed as a Jane Doe. When I found her, she had contusions all over.” Libitina described the wounds. “But she was, without any doubt, dead. I mean, the doctors wouldn’t have put her in the morgue if she wasn’t.”

  She started walking again. “Shit.” Her face stricken, as a horrible thought popped into her head. “What if the doctors didn’t check correctly? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened. What if she wasn’t really dead, but just hurt badly, and so close to the end that she appeared dead? Fuck! Then she wouldn’t be a zombie. She needs serious help if that’s the case. All that blood.”