by Kayes, Greg
Mist spat bloody spit on the floor as she lay sternly watching her potential doom approach her.
"God damn zombies." Harry said obviously beaten up himself as they stared at one another.
"God Damned ZOMBIES!!!" Harry shouted as the support beams to the house started to crack and buckle.
Wood beams and planks twisted and warped around everyone as unseen pressure distorted the space around them. Plates and glass shattered in the floor above as Harry was apparently beginning to bring the whole house down on top of them. All Mist could do was watch as John tried to lift her up the stairs on top of his own injuries.
Then out of the darkness emerged a nightmare. A set of glistening yellow hungry teeth lurched out grinning like a skeleton in the light. Her skin wrapped tightly to now skinny muscles glistening with sweat and looking tuff as teak. Whatever battle had been taking place within the zombie had obviously been lost as she seethed hungrily at the room. No longer did she look like a corpse but as a one hundred percent furious zombie.
You could feel Harry smile as he stopped his attack. You knew he wanted to see this play out. He was beyond livid but at the emergence of this new visage of zombie gave him promise of a slow torturous redemption, or an entertainingly fast one, for all the frustrations he had received. You could feel the anticipation become thick in the air as the zombie personified approached on unsteady new legs. You could feel all that right up to the point the zombie began a screaming charge...at him.
There was no fight. Just a lot of far away screaming from something John couldn't see. The zombie had charged at them but pounced on something else, something invisible that tried to fly away. It gave him the impression of a cat that caught a very lively bird. But there was no toying with her food as she began to feverishly eat something that wasn't there.
Instinct drove her. The taste was unbearably amazing as Henrietta feasted for the first time on bad karma. It burned as it went down but in a good way like eating spicy food as she embodied it like a ravenous daemon. She didn't pay attention to the screaming; in fact it made him taste better. All those centuries of butchering and torturing victims, she could feel it all as she tore him apart bite by bite. His name wasn’t even Harry but that didn’t matter. He couldn't scream enough for as far as she was concerned. He couldn't escape it either, not anymore.
Then the screaming stopped. The blood rage drained from her eyes when Henrietta realized there was nothing left to eat. She looked around and at herself as she felt her new old body for the first time. She flexed her spindly fingers like silken iron talons. Her skin hugged every fatless lean muscle tightly all over her body as she moved with the grace and beauty of the living like a ballerina. Gravity was something she was going to have to get use to though as she stumbled uneasily on the floor-
*Wap*
-and the solidity of corporeal things. Henrietta laughed a dry rich hearty laugh as she felt dull pain throb in her head after walking into a warped beam. Gently she made her way through the twisted splintering wood like a spirit of tranquility walking gracefully through a forest of thorns. Gently she picked the limp Mike up off the floor and onto her shoulder then tip toed her way to Mist and John.
Henrietta stood before the bruised and battered pair for a moment before kneeling down. Softly she picked up Mist and John easily as if they were made of paper and walked them up the stairs. The door broke apart into splinters as she nudged it open. The house buckled and began caving in on its self as the door appeared to have be the only thing left that was still holding the place up.
Henrietta barreled her way through the back door with everyone in tow, just as the house finished collapsing. Gently she set everyone down before sitting on the grass and watching the dust cloud settle everywhere. She turned to look at Mist and the others who were sitting up and watching the same spectacle as her.
"So what now?" Henrietta said with a dry raspy voice to Mist
The house then burst into flames.
"Uh..." Mist said.
About the characters
Mist
Not a lot is known about this strange and powerful person. She first appeared as a leader of a tribe of an invisible shamanistic people in the book The Mysteries of Mist. She is elusive and cunning as well as motherly and caring. A note worth mentioning is that she is both the same person in The Mysteries of Mist and The Ghosts of the Zombie Apocalypse but she also is not, a detail that will be addressed in the sequel to The Mysteries of Mist.
Billy and Tom
A fun loving mischievous inseparable duo, these two seek dangerous adventure often to the cost of themselves. They also first appear in The Mysteries of Mist as consultants on an expedition to a jungle island. However they are not the same pair as the Billy and Tom in The Ghosts of the Zombie Apocalypse.
Henrietta
A nurse in life and a story teller in death Henrietta is a kind hearted but stern woman who is just trying to make it in an afterlife that came all too soon to so many people in the zombie apocalypse. Yet there seems to be hidden talents laying in wait within for her to discover as she tries to break out of the rut that being dead does to people.
Mike (Story Master)
A struggling programmer in life turned story telling savant in death. His quick storytelling stile with attention to detail gave him a rich title and plenty of respect as he gets the best trades for good stories.
John
A luckless man who stays alive by staying out of everyone’s way yet danger finds him anyways. He has an odd form of invulnerability. Bad things keep happening yet with his odd luck nothing seems able to kill him. Most importantly he may or may not be dead already.
* * *
[1] Like her mother did.
[2] And only remembered because of a special plaque she had made with his name and address and the title "Your Son" hung conspicuously over the fireplace where she would see it every day and say in disbelief "Oh yea! I do have a son, don't I?" Some people are just born forgettable.
[3] She meant philosophical
[4] Henrietta wasn't always the best at knowing the right words to use even when she was alive
[5] One of the perks to being a ghost is that windows, wall, and doors are an optional hindrance
[6] Like phantom limb, where you experience a sensation that a severed limb is still there, but for the entire body
[7] Did you think zombies survived on human flesh alone? Everything has to eat and humans are only plentiful at the beginning of the apocalypse.
[8] Redundant, but he knew what he meant.
[9] They were really quite good at remembering details, landmarks, and directions. That’s all they did all day.
[10] If ghosts could blush, Henrietta would have been beet red.
[11] You wouldn't find more venom in a snake than in the way he said “him”.
[12] That brought a much needed smile to his face as he giggled. Of course someone who was indulgently inadequate enough to call themselves Master would defiantly be named Harry
[13] Which is significant in her line of work