FAMILY TIE BETWEEN A NEW ZOMBIE and THEIR HUMAN FAMILY ... 5/12/14

Time passed. They moved around, sheltering in caves, abandoned factories and some rarely used out buildings at the zoo. Although they had to be careful to steer clear of any vampires lurking about. The Society Hill contingent, just beginning to recover from Tomas' passing, bunks with polar bears from time to time, but hibernation is over. so they won't be around for at least six or seven months. Few vampires frequent the facility during the warm months. Vampires sink into a somewhat depressive state when nights are short. They miss the dark. They hide and they wait. Tomas used to retreat to the deep tunnels under the subway. But he's dead, so we're no going to talk about him, OK?

Opal functioned fairly well. Still craved her family. Uther made her wait. Figured news coverage would die down in a few weeks. Humans move on. New mysteries enter their lives. What looked like a three year old boy was found living in deep, locked, dusty store rooms far down beneath some such museum or other. Philadelphia is an old, old place. Museums condense out of the ether. And the three year old boy survived on old, dried animal specimens from Venezuelan jungles.  Large, aquatic rodents were his favorites. And he had a vestigial tail too, like what a Springer Spaniel keeps after the docking. Press called him 'Zippy the Ferret Boy.' Can't stand light. They have him in Doctor Franklin's compound under the Navy Yard now. You should see him swim. Loves the dim, blue undulating pool where the sea-hag lives. Sea-hags are old mermaids. They try to keep a brassiere on her , but she rips it off and eats it. Gobbles it right down. That way they can't get it back. And she chortles like a maniac. They say that's normal for merfolk. Some agency took blood from the boy for DNA testing. He's human, a little different, but closer to us than say a bonobo, or chimp.  Sea-hag swims underneath and tickles him. He giggles and paddles away. She hand feeds him sardines. People from the tabloids come around. Guys from The Bureau shoo them off. Doesn't stop them. Write their own stories and print computer generated images.

She had to feed though. Opal, I mean. Uther didn't want to hunt. Didn't want to risk being spotted. Security cameras are everywhere. But they have these suppliers... fresh victim... no questions asked. Uther saves jewelry from his victims. Most of his stash is in Europe. But he's got some here too in safe deposit boxes and all. Gave a guy a few real nice pinky rings, star sapphires, miners' cut diamonds. Bought a big, drunk, homeless guy from behind The Wanamaker Building. Gets free Texas Tommies from a little, greasy lunch place. That's how he keeps his weight up. Took him to the zoo in a taxi one night. I don't know what the cabbie thought. Maybe he got a ring too? Uther knows this little tunnel in the woods. Whole place is surrounded by woods. Fairmount Park has eight thousand acres. You could hide Noah's Arc in there. Strange dead things turn up all the time. Groundsmen go - What the hell is this?... But they take care of it. Eighteen hundreds were even worse. Like a butcher shop it was. Gangs dumped 'meat' there all the time. Death was like 'in style' back then...  Guy tried to run away a couple times, but Uther had this thing he did. Pinched his neck a certain way. Not like Spock, but ... well, it was a little bit like Spock. Drunk starts twitching. Legs give out. Cries... begs.... Goes - Jesus Christ! What are you gonna do to me!? What are you gonna do to me!? By then they had him dragged through the tunnel, to a pitch black place behind a picnic grove. The wolves saw, but they knew better than to make noise when other predators feed.  They just stand, pant and lick their chops.

Opal went into a frenzy. It's reflexive. It's instinctive. Zombies do it all the time. Uther held him from behind, one arm over his chest, one hand clamped over his mouth. She ripped his clothes off like a buzz saw. Drunk guy kicked. Uther squeezed his neck til he went slack. When they got a body staked out, when they can eat at their leisure, fleisch essers, as Uther aus Ulm calls them, start at the extremities and work in. That way the heart pumps longer. Prolongs the fresh taste. But this wasn't like that. She was hungry and Uther wanted to be done with it. The belly! The belly! - he hissed.... So she tore into the liver, all hot and steaming. Wolves got a little agitated when she did that. Whined and all. They're always hungry. They wanted some. That was natural. Uther stopped her, when she went for the entrails.... Not the guts! Not the guts! - he said. You don't want the stink. Leave 'em!..... She looked up, her mouth and chin gleamed with dark red, viscous liver blood. Then she focused on the pancreas (all yellow and bitter) and tucked in. He made her eat a lot of the subcutaneous fat to prevent her own decomposition. Little by little she learned. When the torso was stripped bare (a backward meal) he looked at the twisted, stricken face, pulled her off and heaved it over the fence. The wolves made short work of the rest. Let the keepers worry about it...

Soon he'd take her home.

When some large barn spiders give birth, the mother just sits there, deep in the shadows, surrendering her body to an army of tiny fangs. She nourishes them with her own flesh. New zombies seek a similar meal. The genetic match of the tissue serves them well... like immunities drawn from mother's milk. Except this is just a one time thing.

And Opal misses her lot real bad...

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BRIGADOON <~ couldn't post last night but here's a Broadway CLASSIC you should know about! ... 5/11/14

You might want to google the title after to hear and learn more. An enchanted tale based on Highland Legends of a special hamlet that exists in each century for just one day so that they may live true to their own and not be changed by the big, wide world.



'BRIGADOON' comes from a Gaelic word meaning 'brink of doom.' Yet this story is anything but that.



More Vampire Wonderland later tonight. But take a chance. Expand your horizons and listen to BRIGADOON...



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The New She-Zombie Wants To Visit Her Folks ... 5/10/14

In a few days she was all healed. Not zombie looking at all. Had a rank, meaty smell, but Uther ran out for some kind of perfume or deodorant to cover it up.  Opal wanted DEGREE, Just Dance, Juicy Berries for girls, but our eight hundred jahr alt fleisch esser brought her some Axe Body Spray thing. The gender specificity of modern packaging means nothing to him. A sweet smell is a sweet smell. But he did get her the right jeans, so that part was good. Got a bra... a pack of Hanes for Her all cotton panties, some no-name 'bo-bo' sneakers from Target (I think it all came from Target) and whatever else she needed. Then he sat there playing with a little red, plastic, twelve ninety nine, hand held, battery poker machine (that, he got for himself) while she went into the bathroom to get ready. 

Zombies, at least the non-decomposing kind, wash pretty often. Not when they suffer from occasional bouts of stuff-falling-off-itis. Don't want to make it worse. But during good times, when they're smooth and all, they do. Some require human flesh once a month. Some every week or so. In between, just like vampires, they can tolerate water, alcohol and broth, but their bodies don't consume it all like night-folks do. Zombies dump and pee.

Opal almost felt normal in there. Hot water and soap can do that. Brushed her teeth real good. Colgate Optic White. Flossed. Still had some tough, little fibers in the back from that guy she ate. Then she started to cry, because she knew she wasn't normal. When she came out and saw herself in the mirror over the bureau, she just stood there. For the longest time she just stood there. Uther didn't notice. He was really into that poker game thing.

Opal said - How long will it last? How long will I stay this way?.... He looked up and said - I don't know. You might be a 'once a month' feeder, or maybe sooner. I don't know..... What's it like right before? - She asked..... Right before you eat? - he said... She nodded..... You'll see changes. Dryness. Stiffness. It effects us inside too, you know...... Will anything fall off? - she asked.... Don't let it go that far. You'll get into a rhythm. You'll know - he said. There are things we use, certain skin creams, certain oil supplements. Aromatic spices, herbs. Some 'zombies' maintain close relationships with physicians, dermatologists. That's how it is........ Where's your accent? - she said..... I can turn that off. I've lived in many places. I fit in. I get along. It's who I am, but it's not all I am - he explained........ You have something planned for me? - she asked....... You'll find out. You are very strong for an eighth grader - he said.... I know I am. I'm a ninth grader and I want to go home. I want to see my family.... He just looked at her.... She whispered - No, I do. I really do........ You realize you haven't been there in approximately one week. Maybe more. I lost track. God knows what your friends told them. You don't think the police are involved? We're not magic. We're not vampires. I can't sneak you in there. It's not that easy...... No, I guess it isn't. But I want to go. I have a little sister and I want to go.

The eight hundred year old fleisch esser knew she really meant it. But he had to stall her off, or it'd never work. So he took her to some late movie at a suburban repertoire house where they saw the thirty year old Italian classic, CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST. And Opal liked it. She really liked it. What did them lousy, crying, sniveling, naked, God damned people think? Just because they were 'uncontaminated' they deserved to live forever? She saw the cannibals as zombies, even though they weren't. And she saw the people as live, swimming carp in a fish market. 

And whether they were, or were not that, made no difference at all...

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HOW VAMPIRES BRANCHED OFF FROM ZOMBIES ... 5/9/14

This is just some information you might appreciate. It'll make upcoming episodes easier to understand. Zombies and vampires stem descend from the same stock.

Zombies came first. They date back to the last African Exodus when fully modern humans wandered out from The Mother Continent to populate the rest of the world. This was about one hundred and twentyfive thousand  years ago. Some say a hundred thousand years ago, others one hundred and fifty thousand years ago. We split the difference.

Along the way, somewhere on The Gangetic Plain, an isolated band apparently acquired 'the zombie bug,'... the microbial cocktail responsible for that flesh-eating condition. Physical anthropologists maintain the 'first infection' likely happened when a bleeding, injured individual, perhaps fleeing from a predator, fell into quicksand, seemed to 'die' but did not, managing to struggle out as humanity's first zombie.

Clan members obviously saw the difference. Someone presumed 'dead' was not dead. What's more, at a time when the average life span was maybe thirty years old, they seemed immortal. It's natural to assume the muddy depression responsible for this transformation became 'magical' in their eyes. Maybe other injured, bleeding people were thrown in? The necessary assortment of germs was still there. Most outcomes were probably similar. After a few human generations.... waa-laa, flesh-eaters walked the Earth. 

We now know those infected crave human flesh, specifically the protein, to replace waning levels of collagen and other connective tissues. An as yet unknown mechanism allows the necessary compounds to survive digestion and migrate where needed. Thus episodic decomposition is corrected. Regular cannibalistic meals can stave it off altogether. 

Average zombie lifespans run from three hundred and forty to four hundred and forty years. Occasionally, one makes it to eight hundred, or even older, though the regenerative nature of ingested human flesh ultimately breaks down. Decomposition proceeds unchecked. Death ensues. 

Vampirism came into the picture about forty thousand years ago. The exact mechanism is still unknown. Scientists believe some arcane energy , or non-physical coherence, played a part. There are stories of other worldly interference, alien tinkering. If you've been with this blog for a while you know. Or maybe they just evolved? Or maybe God really did create them to 'cull the wicked and preserve the worthy?' Mystery can be a wondrous thing, especially in the wee small hours of the morning. For mystery is the font of all magic and apparently our species needs that.

We'll return to the story next time, but we just thought you'd like to know.

If you're privy to any enchanted knowledge and would like to share, please do so via a comment.

The 'truth' is a vast, unending tapestry. We're all good for a few stitches...

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NEW BORN ZOMBIE,OPAL, AND UTHER, the uber ZOMBIE GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER ... 5/8/14

He locked the door and threw her on the bed. She saw her reflection in the mirror and shuddered. The shriveled lips and dry, shrunken eyelids gave her a NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS meets Twiggy look. Plus her hair looked like the first prize winner in an INTERNATIONAL FRIZZ PAGEANT. A thin, sticky film (soon to become skin) covered her ribs. That part she liked. 

What are you gonna do to me? - asked Opal..... Nutting - said the uber zombie..... Then why'd you bring me to a motel? - she added..... I know da manager. He giff me a deal. - said Uther..... That seemed to satisfy her.... He sat down in one of two matching 'occasional' chairs, meant to give the place an almost mini-suite ambiance and leafed through a neat stack of takeout/delivery pizza joint menus on a small, white, plastic, pedestal table. Not that he was drawn to the cuisine, but he had to do something. 

Do they got cable? - she asked..... He tossed her the remote. Five seconds later, the hundred and seventy nine dollar flat screen hanging over the bureau came to life.... Old Three Stooges funny films.... Moe throwing cream pies at the bosoms of fat, society matrons, who trilled like castrati every time they got hit.... Opal liked that. Right up her alley. Uther watched as she attempted to untangle her hair with her fingers. Results were so-so at best. Then she studied her torn, ruined finger tips. Flesh already puckered up around the exposed tips of bone.... She looked at the dried dirt all over her body and asked - When can I take a shower?.... Wait till the skin on your ribs 'sets' up a little more - he said..... Ewww, won't all the dirt get sealed in, like tattoos? - she asked..... For a bit - he said. But your body will absorb it. It will go away...... Then she clicked on ANDY COHEN .... Oh ,Amy Schumer  ! I love her! - she said..... Uther wasn't interested, preferring to leaf through a local real estate listing magazine.

Then, when Amy finished her last lady-parts reference and they broke for commercials, Opal turned toward the uber zombie and asked - Who're you?...... I am 'Uther.' - he said..... Are you a zombie too? - she asked..... He just nodded..... She gulped.  Her chin trembled.... I want to go home. When I'm better. When it all grows back, I wanna go home. I just wanna go home. I do. I do. I do. - she whispered.... He sighed and smiled. Then he shook his head.... She cried. Zombies can still cry... You'll need a new 'zombie' name. Who are you, Opal?..... She sniffed and nodded.... Then he said - That will never do..... He thought for a while and asked - Tohn-da-lay-oh, Tondaleo. What do you think about Tondaleo?..... Opal said - I ain't no 'Tondaleo.' Drop dead and go to hell...... In good time. In good time, my little foul mouthed 'knodel.' (in case you don't know, that's German for dumpling. just make sure to pronounce the 'k')..... She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth... The bed squeaked. Somebody pounded on the door and said - Housekeeping!..... Uther answered it, but kept the chain latch on. The voice on the other side dropped a few decibels and went - Got any bodies need cartin' away?..... Uther said - No, not this time... and locked up...... Opal said - What, you come here often?..... Uther went - No, but it's a zombie place. They know.

She just nodded and mouthed the word 'zombie.' Then she said - Get me some clothes..... He said - I will..... She went - Lucky jeans . I want Lucky jeans.

Uther wrote that down...

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BODY MASS... ZOMBIE STYLE... 5/7/14

The average human body is 40% muscle. Not necessarily 'fit' muscle. Just 'muscle' muscle. So the pathetic, skinny kid trembling in Opal's tight embrace had maybe fifty six pounds of meat on him, not counting fat deposits, which almost everyone knows is where the flavor is.

Being brand new at this and fresh from her temporary grave, Opal can't eat all that meat. Scraping up through six feet of damp, heavy, gravel-laden soil did abrade a lot of flesh, but most tissue survived. After wolfing down enough to sate her hunger and denuding most of his carcass between jawline and nipples, she let the body fall and caught her breath.

Uther aus Ulm caught the still twitching entree and finished him off. Bit through the unbelievably  intact trachea (all gristle, but that Ulm got strong choppers) and chewed on the in situ heart till it stopped quivering. He wasn't very hungry either. Just let the body fall, though not into the recently vacated grave. That's zombie-making-dirt, after all. Don't know how they got there, the soil microbes and all, but they did, so shut your mouth. OK?

The sandy haired, uber zombie looked at the exhausted new flesh-eater and said - You can talk, girl?...... Opal sat slumped against a tree, chin on her chest, absentmindedly studying her dirt encrusted crotch area, as the blood dried on her chin like a funny beard. She didn't answer. He gently kicked the sole of her foot. She said - W-what?...... Uther goes - Yo, mall-bitch (obviously familiar with a bit of the vernacular), what kind of zombie you want to be?.... The still dazed young female goes - You mean like a Democrat or a Republican?..... He goes - No.... Girl goes - Gay or straight?.... He says - No...... Opal snorts and goes - Lemme sleep. Lemme sleep. Lemme sleep. So he bends down and scoops her up like Rock Hudson did Doris Day in them old Kennedy era comedies and carries her off through the trees..... She leans into his chest and belches. Let me tell you, zombie belch stink real bad. Like a dog what got into a spoiled, raw ham.

When Uther questioned her, he meant does she want to be a shit ass, cheap, regular zombie, or a popular, sleek, uber zombie?

Right then and there she just wanted to sleep. That was a good sign. Meant the flesh she ate was starting to fix things..... cover up her ribs.... reupholster them finger tips.... humanize her eyelids.... and God knows what else. 

Ralphie and Ezekiel watched from a distance. They saw the strange European zombie carry her off. They saw the small and not so small forest rodents make short work of the corpse. They saw it all.

Ezekiel whispered - Bet he has a car...... Ralphie goes - What makes you say that?...... Ezekiel goes - She's naked, flesh-drugged and superficially decomposed. What's he gonna do? Wait for a bus!?

Then they scramble back into the mall and their secret lair under the floor. The pathetic, pile of garbage that used to be Gary really stank, but zombies don't care. Look, it's not their favorite thing, but they deal with it.

Ralphie snuggled into his nest-o-blankets with an old, tattered National Geographic. It was hard to read in the dim illumination from the dollar store Easter lights, but he didn't care. The pictures were the main thing... old Incan mummies.  And you know, some didn't look half bad. Took his mind off the confrontation with that Uther bastid, at least for the time being anyway...

Ezekiel slumped in his chair... a half busted recliner dragged down from a furniture clearance room up above. He didn't need no magazine, or ear-bud radio, or nothing. Just sat (slightly tilted to one side, 'cause the chair was broken) and thought.

Opal was gone... Damn.... And he wanted a new, little sister too...

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ZOMBIES ARE SO CAPRICIOUS AND SELFISH... 5/4/14

They waited for her to break through. Ralphie trilled - Can you hear her? Can you hear her? Can you hear her?!... He's an excitable sort of zombie. Ezekiel hates that. He just looked at him and didn't say a word..... Ralphie sensed the disapproval and shut up, but he couldn't help fidgeting and tittering every few heartbeats. Strictly speaking, zombies have no supernatural, or paranormal abilities. They do have an acute sense of hearing and a more or less canine sense of smell. Most easily pick up the frantic scrambling of live souls in the ground. Some apparently detect magnetic particles in the bones of living people. Conspiracy theorists site semi-substantiated findings from an early sixties Area 51 study focusing on thirty nine assorted zombies purchased from the Soviets during Khrushchev's era. Plan was to utilize them for space exploration. Zombies can do everything ordinary humans can and then some. Plus, who cares if they decompose and die? They're only zombies. It's just a hobby. They say three or four escaped into the surrounding hills. Ate a few old ladies, old men... at that age it's hard to tell. Night crew left them alone, bought off with six or seven boxes of Dunkin Donuts and some kind of diet soda. When family members came by and asked - What happened to Aunt Sadie? ... Desk woman goes - We don't know. Maybe she's hiding? Sometimes they hide real good.. (as she wipes powdered sugar from the corners of her mouth and sucks doughnut goo off her teeth)... Aunt Sadie's nephew goes - Look, you, I want that old lady.... Woman gestures down the corridor and  goes -Grab one. Why you gotta be so particular?.. Never found them three or four escaped zombies. Some folks say they got a custard  stand in Reno, or a Jenny Craig franchise. One did a few guest shots on Petticoat Junction, but he had a real good agent, 'cause lot a shows don't wanna book zombies.

Little bit later Ezekiel whispers - She's coming..... Ralphie goes - Tee hee hee.... Ezekiel's left snaps out and cracks him across the face. Ralphie mouths a sullen 'sorry.'..... And then it happens. The tidy, little mound of dirt atop the grave begins to move and shift. Minute 'avalanches' roll down from the center. A thin, white, blue tinged hand thrusts out, the finger tips torn and ruined. Tiny points of white bone take the place of cat claws, as it strains up toward thin, dancing beams of moonlight stealing in through the trees. No one speaks. A forehead breaks through. Soon a face, eyelids torn and shriveled. The hair a filthy, tangled, black mass. Still blind from the ordeal, the newly minted zombie, Opal gulped in huge lung fills of air, as she gasps - Help me. Help me. Help me. 

Ralphie moves to assist her, but Ezekiel holds him back and says - No. She has to do it alone...... So they wait. Ralphie clasps and unclasps his hands, in expectation, as the newborn flesh eater pulls herself out of the grave and stands trembling against the rough bark of a large oak tree. A few ribs peek through her scraped and ravaged skin.

And then he's here. That's it. Just like that. The eight hundred year old Teutonic 'fleisch esser' Uther aus Ulm, strides through the brush, a gagged and terrified 'sacrificial victim' secure in his grasp. Ralphie and Ezekiel instantly dash into the shadows, as the invader pulls out a knife and deftly scores quick, shallow, oozing cuts all over the victim's body. 

Opal smells the blood. Her mouth begins to water. She reaches out toward the restorative meal and takes him into her desperate embrace. ..... Uther moves behind her, tenderly untangling her hair, as he whispers - Ess, ess, ess . She tears into the naked deltoid, ripping off huge strips of flesh. The poor, young man thrashes helplessly, but it does no good... Born for a zombie's dinner.

Such is fate...

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