The Undead That Saved Christmas

by ed. Lyle Perez-Tinics

  Chaz and I had just begun to drift off to sleep when a banshee like wail made us jump up.

  “What was that?” Chaz asked, looking around.

  “I don’t know. It came from outside.”

  “Maybe it was the wind,” Chaz offered.

  “First time I ever heard the wind make that noise.”

  The glow from the television was our only source of light. The once chipper, cheerful classroom was cast in a foreboding, otherworldly blue glow that made my heart race.

  Slowly we made our way to the window and looked outside. Squinting, we forced our eyes to adjust to the smoky grey darkness. A layer of ice coated the window, like icing on a cake. Through the raging snow we saw a shape a few yards away. It was hunched over something. Chaz and I both looked at each other.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  The thing got up and raised its arms triumphantly to the sky. Its clothes –tattered- seemed to hang from its body like tentacles.

  “It’s a person,” Chaz exclaimed. Opening the door he yelled into the storm. “Hey! Hello! Over here! Can you hear me?”

  The thing, I’m guessing it was a person, turned toward the school. I was amazed that the, whatever it was, wasn’t frozen solid. It wore no jacket and its clothes were more shredded then I first thought. The thing was still, staring at us for eons before letting out another ear splitting falsetto shriek. I had never heard anything so demonic in my life. I couldn’t stop the shudder that assaulted my body. My eyes grew as the thing effortlessly walked through the snow, tatters fluttering behind him like shackles. I couldn’t believe the speed at which it moved. It was like the blizzard didn’t even affect it.

  “Close the door! Close the door!” I begged Chaz quickly. All my instincts were telling me not to let it in.

  Chaz quickly closed and locked the door. Joining me at the window we watched it move with the speed and grace of an Olympic runner.

  “Who is that?” Chaz, his voice a whisper, asked.

  All I could do was shake my head. I was hypnotized. I couldn’t turn away from that window.

  “What’s he doing out in the storm? How can he move that fast in the snow? It’s up to his knees,” Chaz continued in reverent disbelief.

  I couldn’t speak. All I could do was continue to nod my head, totally confused.

  Both of us froze and our breaths caught in our throats as through the haze and snow we were able to see the thing clearly. Chaz’s arm instinctively wrapped around me and pulled me close.

  “What is that?” Chaz did little to hide the way his voice quivered with fear. I was so shocked I couldn’t even move.

  It looked like something in the comic books Chaz and my little brother reads. It was only when the thing pressed its horribly mangled face against the glass that I finally found my voice and screamed. Seeming to look directly through us; the thing smiled revealing crooked, yellow rotting teeth and sensuously ran his broken, bloodied palm across the window. There were several gaps where teeth had fallen out. What little hair it did have left was stringy and knotted. Instead of a nose, a large gapping crater was in the middle of its face. It had only one eye that was coated an unhealthy milky white and bits of dried, crackling flesh were barely hanging onto its face. I could actually see its skull!

  Letting out a primal roar, the thing’s head smashed through the window, ignoring the sharp shards that lodged themselves deep in its cavernous eye socket. The sudden cold snapped us out of our paralyses and we ran out of the room.

  As we ran down the dark hallway, we could still hear the thing tearing through the window; moaning and howling. We didn’t stop until we reached the music room; the only classroom without windows. We figured the blackness would hide us from that thing. Chaz and I leaned against the wall, chests rising and falling heavily.

  “Did you see that thing?” Chaz asked, nervously running his fingers through his hair.

  “What is it?” I was so scared I could barely whisper. I was sure that thing was just outside the door. Listening. Waiting.

  “Dude, I think it was a zombie,” he answered seriously. I thought I detected just a flavor of excitement mixed in with his fright.

  “Chaz, come on. Zombies aren’t real,” I argued, refusing to believe we were in the middle of some real life zombie flick.

  “That thing looked pretty real to me. Besides I’ve seen enough zombie movies to know what o-” He stopped short and his gaze slowly traveled to the music room door.

  “What is it?” My voice was even more of a whisper than before. Nervously I looked around, even though I could barely see anything.

  “Thought I heard something.”

  Slowly, he made his way to the door. Right as his hand wrapped around the doorknob, the door burst open, trapping him behind it. My hands shot across my mouth sealing my scream. Eyes wide, I watched the thing enter the room. It had put on Chaz’s Santa jacket and hat. The thing looked around the room, blinded by the darkness. Pressing myself against the wall I carefully backed away, looking for a place to hide. The real life Zombie Claus scanned the room a few more times and, not finding anything to satiate its hunger, turned to leave.

  A sigh of relief left my body and that’s when I tripped over the drum set I hadn’t known was behind me. The bass drum rolled across the room, stopping only when it smashed into the wall with a heavy thud. The cymbals crashed. Zombie Claus turned, growled and quickly headed toward me. Scrambling out of the way, I got to my feet, pulled Chaz out from behind the door and ran. Behind us we could hear Zombie Claus tear apart the music room.

  “If we make it out of this alive I’m totally writing this down and sending it to Romero,” Chaz said.

  “Shut up and run,” I answered, not in the mood.

  “Why did it put on the jacket and hat?”

  “It was just out in the storm. Maybe it was cold,” I answered. I really didn’t care why it had clad itself in Chaz’s hat and jacket. I just cared about surviving.

  “Where are we going?” I finally asked as we ran blindly through the school. I was scared to turn every corner, certain Zombie Claus would be there, ready to grab us and turn us into his undead minions. Or eat us.

  “I don’t know,” Chaz answered out of breath, fear fueling him to keep running.

  “Chaz. Stop.”

  Grabbing his arm I pulled him against the wall. Resting my hands on my knees I took several deep gulps of air. My side felt like a spear was puncturing it and my legs were shaking like Jell-O.

  “We gotta come up with a plan,” I said. “We can’t just keep running.”

  “First, I’m gonna get some water,” Chaz said, walking over to the drinking fountain and guzzling down the refreshing liquid. I rolled my eyes but it was a good idea. My throat was so dry it hurt.

  After we had quenched our thirst, Chaz put his hands together and began to pace back and forth.

  “Okay. Okay. A Plan. A plan… What would the hero of a Romero flick do…?”

  I rolled my eyes again. I wanted to shake him. This wasn’t some cheesy horror movie. This was real life! If we messed up that was it. No second takes. No director yelling cut.

  “I got it!” Chaz exclaimed loudly. His voice echoed in the hallway. Freezing, we held our breaths and looked down the dark hallway. Zombie Claus didn’t appear. “I got it,” Chaz repeated, this time whispering. His voice was so low I had to practically be on top of him to hear. “A gun. We need a gun to shoot him in the head. Or fire.”

  “Chaz,” I began, eyes closed as I pictured our funerals. “We’re in an elementary school. Where are we going to find a gun or something to make fire with?”

  Chaz was silent. I could see the wheels turning inside his head.

  “The principal’s office. I’m sure there’s a gun there for emergencies. And I’ve seen her smoke. Maybe there’s a lighter or matches.”

  It seemed like a long shot, but it was the only plan we had.

  “Where’s the principal’s
office?” I asked. I had no idea where we were. Every hallway and classroom now looked the same to me.

  “Down that way,” he said, pointing toward the right. “Then take a left. We passed it when we ran.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  We jogged back the way we came. Rounding the corner, my worst nightmare came true. We ran right into the smelly body of Zombie Claus. It all happened so fast. I ran into his body and fell to the floor. Smiling demonically, Zombie Claus reached down for me. Squirming like a worm on a hook, I could only stare at his long, yellow fingernails; sharp as talons.

  “Leave her alone!” Chaz cried, heroically tackling the undead monster.

  Body shaking, I got up and watched, as Zombie Claus threw Chaz off him. He grabbed him by the throat and triumphantly smirked. Chaz struggled, feet kicking trying to make contact with the corpse, as Zombie Claus effortlessly lifted him off the ground. His breathing became more labored as Zombie Claus’ grip became tighter and tighter. Chaz’s eyes bugged out, and his face started to turn a sickly bluish-purple color. As the corpse’s talons dug deeper into Chaz’s sensitive flesh, dark magenta blood slowly dribbled between his fingers. The metallic scent of blood filled the room. Zombie Claus’ bloated purple tongue slowly peeked out of his mouth and licked his dry lips, rubbing off bits of dead skin.

  “No! Chaz!” I cried out and moved toward them.

  “Dude, Run,” Chaz’s command was barely audible.

  I looked at them and down the hall and back again. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to do.

  “Run…Chrissy…” Chaz choked out as his eyes drooped like a wilting rose.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I love you.”

  Hating myself I ran like a coward. The tears blinded me, making the world blurry.

  I kept looking back, certain Zombie Claus was behind me. However, I was alone. It was quiet. Too quiet. Where was he? Where was Chaz? Was he hurt? Dead? I shuddered, scolding myself for thinking that.

  Throwing open the door to the principal’s office I closed it as quietly as I could, leaned against it and sobbed. I didn’t want to be alone. Looking at the clock, I sighed with frustration. It was only a little after midnight. The storm wasn’t letting up. How much longer could I avoid Zombie Claus? He was going to get me. Sooner or later. Just like he had gotten Chaz.

  Wiping my eyes I started rifling through the desk drawers. I wasn’t going to go out without a fight. Chaz wouldn’t want me to die a coward. I only prayed he had been right about finding a gun. Or at least a lighter. Unfortunately, all I found was papers and files.

  I let out another frustrated sigh and slammed the door so hard I broke it. Great. What was I going to do? Give Zombie Claus a paper cut?

  “I’m zombie chow,” I moaned.

  The doorknob rattled. I jumped up. He had found me! Looking around the claustrophobic office more tears popped out of my eyes. I had no hiding place. No weapon.

  My heart stopped. My stomach knotted. Little beads of sweat formed on my forehead. The door slowly opened. My eyes bugged out.

  “Dude?” Chaz’s voice relaxed me.

  “Chaz!” I exclaimed, running to him and wrapping my arms around his body. “I thought you were dead. I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Don’t worry dude,” he grinned at me. “I’ve seen every zombie flick ever made. I know how to deal with the undead.”

  “Well I hope you have a brilliant plan up your sleeve because there’s no gun and no lighter. Not even any matches.”

  “Really? What kind of nicotine addicted chain smoker is she? And what person in the twenty-first century doesn’t carry a gun?”

  “Chaz. Please. Focus. What are we going to do?”

  “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

  “What?”

  Not saying a word Chaz walked over to a glass panel.

  “It says in case of emergency break glass. I think this would be considered an emergency,” he said before breaking the glass. I jumped and quickly looked out the open door awaiting Zombie Claus’ appearance. He never showed up.

  Carefully, he reached inside and pulled out an axe.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “Cut off his head,” he answered, as if it were obvious.

  I had to hand it to him. It was a pretty good plan.

  Like thieves we tiptoed through the halls. Chaz gripped the axe tightly, ready to strike. He had a strange, determined look in his eyes I had never seen before.

  “Hey I meant to ask. How’d you escape?”

  “Just remained calm and used my head. He’s not so tough,” Chaz answered keeping his gaze straight ahead. This wasn’t like him. Maybe he was just tired.

  Stealthily, we tiptoed to the room where it had all started. Opening the door we peaked inside. The TV was still on. Zombie Claus was staring at it watching a Christmas special. We watched, amazed as he picked up a teddy bear and a doll, sat on a chair and placed them on his knee. Watery gurgles bubbled deep in his throat as he talked to both the doll and teddy bear, lovingly patting their heads. Had he been a volunteer Santa when he was alive? Had that been why he had put on the hat and jacket? Did he still remember his old life? I almost didn’t want to cut off his head.

  “Now’s our chance,” Chaz announced.

  Bursting through the door like a bomb, Chaz ran toward Zombie Claus and swung the axe, taking off his head with one clean swipe. The head rolled across the room. The body, still holding the toys, fell out of the chair and hit the floor with a sickening plop.

  Chaz stood over the body. The TV’s glow gave his skin an almost evil yellow hue. Slowly he put on the jacket, walked over to the head and put on the hat.

  My brow furrowed. What was that nerd up to now?

  Making his way to the window he looked outside. The sky was just beginning to lighten, staining the sky a deep pink color. At least it was finally over.

  Joining him, I looked out and nearly had a heart attack. It was like the punch line to a really bad joke. A whole army of zombies were making their way toward the school.

  “Chaz! We…” I lost the ability to speak when I touched his hand. He was so cold.

  Slowly I looked at him. My eyes fell to the bruise on his neck. I thought it had been from Zombie Claus’ talons but now, I saw it clearly. Teeth marks. There was even a small tooth embedded in the flesh.

  “Oh. My. God.” I whispered, not believing.

  It was then I realized that the yellow hue wasn’t from the TV. That was his actual skin tone. His eyes were even sunken deep in his skull.

  “Chaz?” I couldn’t believe it. Not Chaz.

  “Run,” was all he said looking at me with a hunger in his eyes that I had only seen once before. In the eye of Zombie Claus…

  Story Art Cover

  By Jason Tudor

  http://www.JasonTudor.com

  Dedication

  To the tiny zombies that lie in wait for Santa every year.

  Author Bio

  Stacey Graham is a multi-tasking mother of five, sandwiching zombies and humor writers between permission slips and lunch boxes. Please visit The Zombie Dating Guide for sketchy advice from Undead Fred: zombiedatingguide.com, An Army of Ermas - The New Generation of Disgruntled Housewives: anarmyofermas.com, and her website at staceyigraham.com.

  And to All a Good Fright

  By Stacey Graham

  The elves never saw it coming. One minute Santa Claus was happily breaking and entering into houses and the next – dead as a Christmas cookie, crapped on by Comet.

  “What the hell was that about?” Burley never minced words. It’s no wonder they kept him away from shopping malls when Santa popped in for a special occasion, he’d scare the snot out of the kids. Pulling a cigarette from behind a pointed ear, he scraped a match on the body lying on the snow-covered lawn and lit the sweet tobacco. His breath in short puffs, he attempted to keep it going against the coldness but with little luck. Throwing the stunted pape
r roll to the ground, he looked at his partner.

  “Just one more cookie, just ooone more cookie!” Elmore paced around the body. His feet jangled with the regulation bells the main office made all elves wear on their shoes to show solidarity. Burley complained it was more like elf torture to hear the tingling of the silver spheres daily, his ears apparently more sensitive than his personality.

  “Forget it. The old man is gone. What did he think? All those sweets for the past hundred years wouldn’t catch up to him? His only exercise was climbing those roofs one night a year, and damn – those reindeer were getting husky pulling his jolly red butt as he put on a little cookie weight.” Extending his stomach, Burley jiggled toward the Christmas icon, “Ho, ho, meh, whatever.” Clapping his hands together to get the blood circulating again in the cold, Burley looked around the neighborhood where bad luck, and one-to-many Ding Dongs had stranded them.

  “Oh, this is a great place. THANK YOU SANTA,” he yelled at the dead man. “This is freakin’ perfect.” Kicking the corpse in the red suit, even the elf became a little flustered at their predicament. The rows of houses stretched on for blocks. Cobbled together from cheap stone, attempts at cheerfulness for the season were limited to dirty tinsel and strings of broken lights on a drooping porch. Reaching into his pocket, Burley pulled out the small cell phone given to elves in case of emergency. Punching the speed dial code for Home Base he waited until it picked up before barking into the speaker, “Hey! This is Red One. We’ve got a man down and…”

  “Please press one for English,” the voice said.

  “You’re kidding me. This is…”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Please press one for English, two for Spanish, three for…”

  “Customer Service!” the elf roared into the phone.

  “I’ll connect you. You’ve now been placed on the Naughty List.” A series of beeps and garbled Christmas carols accompanied him through the wait to hook up with Elf Central.