“Yes, of course,” said the Voodoo Queen. “Go, by all means, and when you take that bite that sends him on his way, think of me. I only wish I could have a taste of that sweet, red blood.”
But it was all lies; the zombie had long since bitten and turned all of his old friends and would not be turning any today. He went straight to the crypt, and scooped the brains out of the terrified father then dragged the body outside and left it by a tree. After that, he wandered along side streets and the edges of the town, watching for those who investigate strange sounds in dark alleys or stagger drunk down empty streets where the lights flicker. After that he found a boarded up farmhouse and banged on the walls for a while, gnashing his teeth every time he thought of the juicy, gray, jelly-like brains. It was evening when he finally got home.
“Well,” said the Voodoo Queen, “there you are again. I bet you had an enjoyable day.”
“All went off without a hitch,” answered the zombie.
“What was your old friend’s name by the by?”
“Topoff!” said the zombie quite cooly.
“Topoff!” the cannibalistic Voodoo Queen exclaimed. “That’s a strange and unusual name. Was he Russian?”
“What’s so strange about it?” said the zombie. “It’s no worse than Corpse-thief as your ilk is called.”
Before long, the zombie was seized by another craving. It wheezed to the Voodoo Queen, “You’ll have to do me a favor and attend to snake-catching by yourself. I’ve been asked to join a mob to overrun a farmer’s house, and I can’t refuse, because the people inside have boarded up especially well. Also, this will be the first zombie-walk for an old friend from before, and I need to show him how to properly moan and bang on the walls.”
The cannibalistic Voodoo Queen consented, and the zombie stumbled back to the crypt and ate up all of the smallest child leaving just the mother and elder son. “Nothing ever seems so good as what one keeps to oneself,” the zombie said, and was very pleased with its day’s work.
When the zombie came home, the Voodoo Queen asked, “What did you say your friend’s name was?”
“Hafgon,” the zombie replied.
“Hafgon! You don’t say so! Never in all my life have I heard that name. I’ll wager anything it’s not in the calendar of saints.”
Soon the zombie began to drool again for the delicacy. “All good things come in threes,” it gurgled to the Voodoo Queen. “My oldest and dearest friend from before will be turned tonight. It is very special indeed to be the one to deliver the bite that turns a friend. You’ll let me go out again, won’t you?”
“Topoff! Hafgon!” the Voodoo Queen replied. “Those names are so peculiar, they give me dark thoughts.”
“You sit here in the swamp,” the zombie said, “in your possum-skin frock and alligator moccasins, and are filled with fancies, that’s because you do not go out in the daytime.”
During the zombie’s absence, the Voodoo Queen gutted a giant catfish and ground some fresh zombie powder. Meanwhile, the greedy zombie ate the last two members of the family.
“When everything is eaten up one has some peace,” it mewled to itself. Well-filled, it shambled about and did not return until night.
The Voodoo Queen at once asked the name of this newest friend from before that had been turned. “It will not please you more than the others,” said the zombie. “He was called Allgon!”
“Allgon!” cried the Voodoo Queen. “That’s the most dubious name I ever heard. I’ve never seen it in print. Allgon! What can it mean?” She shook her head, curled up in a ball, and lay down to sleep.
From this time forth, none of the zombie’s old friends from before were turned or needed to be shown how to mob an isolated farm house, but when the winter had come and all the snakes, possums, and gators vanished from the swamp, the cannibalistic Voodoo Queen remembered their treasure.
“Come on, zombie, let’s go gobble up that family we’ve been saving in the crypt. We’ll enjoy it.”
“Yes,” answered the zombie, “you will enjoy it as much as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the window.”
Off they went, but when they arrived, the door to the crypt was still shut, yet the family was gone.
“Alas!” the cannibalistic Voodoo Queen said. “Now I see what had happened. Now the light dawns. Some friend you turned out to be! You ate them all up when you went to turn your friends or teach them to mob a farm house. First top off, then half gone, then—”
“Will you hold your tongue,” howled the zombie. “One word more and I will eat you up.”
“All gone,” was already on the poor Voodoo Queen’s lips; scarecely had she spoken it before the zombie fell on her, tearing into her throat, and ripping open her soft belly to gouge out her steaming innards. Verily, that is the way of the world.
3
Hel’s Child
Based on:
Marienkind
In the suburbs of a great city lived an impeached politician with his wife, a disbarred lawyer, who had an only child, a little girl three years old. Their fortunes had become so poor, however, that they no longer had daily bread, and did not know how to get food for her. One morning, the former politician went out sorrowfully to catch a bus that would take him to the employment office. While he was waiting for the bus, a peculiar woman appeared before him; peculiar because the left side of her body was as dark as ebony while her right side was as white as purest snow.
“I am Hel, stepmother of Thanatos. Thou art poor and needy, bring thy child to me, I will take her with me and be her mother, and care for her.”
The disgraced politician agreed after he was promised the sum of one millon dollars. He brought his child and gave her over to Hel, who took the girl to the Realms of the Underworld with her. There the child was wholly corrupted; she learned gluttony and selfishness, her clothes were of gold, and the imps and demon children played with her.
One day when she was fourteen years of age, Hel called upon her and said, “Child, I am about to make a long journey, so take into keeping the keys of the thirteen doors of the kingdom of the underworld. Twelve of these thou mayest open, and behold the power which is within them, but the thirteenth to which this little key belongs, is forbidden thee. Beware of opening it, or thou wilt bring misery on thyself.”
The girl promised to be obedient, and when Hel was gone, she began to examine the dwellings of the kingdom of the underworld. Each day she opened one of them, until she made the round of the twelve. In each of them was a vial containing a great plague and she was fascinated by an accompanying book that explained all manner of symptoms and methods of transmission, and the little demons who always accompanied her rejoiced with her.
Then the forbidden door alone remained and she felt a great desire to know what could be hidden behind it, and said to the demons, “I won’t open it all the way and I won’t go in. I’ll just barely open it, so we can see a little something through the crack.”
“Oh no,” said the imps and little demons, “that would violate Hel’s decree. She has forbidden it, and it might easily cause thy unhappiness.”
Then she was silent, the desire in her heart had not stilled, but gnawed there and tormented her, and let her have no rest. And once when the imps and the little demons had all gone out, she thought; Now I am quite alone, and I could peep in. If I do it, no one will ever know. She sought out the key, and when she had it in her hand, she put it in the lock, and when she had put it in, she turned it round as well. Then the door sprang open, and there was a zombie, tall and gaunt, standing alone in the center of the room. She stayed awhile, having never seen one of the walking dead before; carefully she approached the decaying figure and reached out to touch it. It caught her hand, taking a bite. Immediately she screamed and ran, slamming the door violently on her way out. No matter what she did, her fear wouldn’t stop, and her heartbeat became sluggish. She washed and scrubbed, but it didn’t seem to help.
It was not long bef
ore Hel came back from her journey. She called the girl before her and asked her to give back the keys to the underworld. When the maiden gave her the bunch, Hel looked into her eyes and said, “Hast thou not opened the thirteenth door also?”
“No,” she replied.
Hel laid her hand on the girl’s heart, and felt how it had slowed almost to a stop, and saw right well that she had disobeyed her order and had opened the door. Then she said once again, “Art thou certain that thou hast not done it?”
“Yes,” said the girl.
Then Hel perceived the mark on the girl’s hand from being bitten by the zombie. She knew the girl had disobeyed and asked for a third time, “Hast thou not done it?”
“No,” said the girl once again.
Then Hel said, “Thou hast not obeyed me, and besides that, thou hast lied. Thou art no longer worthy to live in splendor beside me in the underworld. But thou shalt not find the peace of death till I’ve had satisfaction.”
The girl sank into a deep sleep, and when she awoke, she was back on earth in the midst of a wilderness. She wanted to cry out, but she could bring forth no sound. She staggered to her feet and wanted to run away, but whichever way she turned the way was blocked by dense thorny thickets, and she couldn’t break through. In the clearing where she was imprisoned there was an old hollow tree, and that had to be her dwelling place. Into this she crept when night came; and when it rained and stormed, she found shelter there. But it was a wretched existence, and when she remembered how happy she had been in the underworld, and how the imps and demons had played with her, she wept bitterly.
Bugs and stray cats were her only food and she went looking for them as far as she could go. In the autumn she devoured rats when they came by. And when the snow and ice came, she froze into her hollow tree until spring.
Before long, all her clothes were torn and fell off her body piece by piece. As soon as the sun shone warm again, she went out and stood by the tree, and her long hair was all she had to cover her like a coat. Year after year she sat there and felt the pain and misery of the world.
One day, when the trees were once more clothed in fresh green, the governor of the state was hunting in the forest. He was tracking a deer and, as it had fled into the thicket surrounding the clearing, he got down off his horse, parted the brambles and hacked out a path for himself with a machete. When he had at last forced his way through, he saw a beautiful, but strangely pale girl sitting under the tree, covered to the tips of her toes by her golden hair. He stopped and looked at her with amazement. And then spoke to her, saying, “Who are you? Why are you sitting here in the wilderness?” But she didn’t answer, for she couldn’t open her mouth. The governor spoke again, “Will you come with me to my mansion?” At that she nodded her head a little. The governor scooped her into his arms, carried her to his horse, and rode home with her. And when they came to the governor’s mansion, he saw to it that she was fitted and dressed in designer clothes and given plenty of everything. And though she couldn’t speak, refused to eat in his presence, and felt a bit cold to the touch, she was so winsome and beautiful that he fell in love with her and soon they were married.
After a year of trying in futility to conceive, they eventually adopted a son from a far off and impoverished country. That night as she lay alone in bed, Hel appeared to her and said, “I have kept thee from completely turning in order to givest thee ample time in that thou wilt tell the truth and confess that thou didst unlock the forbidden door, I will give thee back thy life fully, but if thou perservere in thy affront and deniest obstinately, I will loose thy hunger and place thy new child before thee.”
Then the young woman was touched with enough of the spark of life to answer, but remained stubborn. “No,” she said, “I didn’t open the forbidden door.”
And Hel withdrew the spark plus more as well to fully transform the woman, then placed the infant before the now drooling zombie who devoured every tiny, tender morsel down to its pink toes. Afterwards, Hel restored just enough of the spark so as to return the woman to the verge of undeath. Next morning, when the child was nowhere to be found, the aides and personal assistants begin to whisper that this woman was a murderess and had killed the child. She heard what they said, and could not reply, but the governor loved her so much and would not believe it.
When a year had gone by, they adopted another son. That night, Hel again came to her and said, “If thou wilt confess that thou openest the forbidden door, I will restore thee to fully living and open thy womb so thou mayst bear thine own child; but if you continue to deniest it, I will revive the curse in full and layest this new child before thee.”
Then the woman again said, “No, I didn’t open the forbidden door.” And Hel brought back the curse of undeath and placed the new child before the ravenous zombie.
In the morning when this child also had disappeared, there was an uproar. Some even hinted that they believed the woman had gone so far as to eat the infant. A demand was made that the woman be brought to justice. The governor, however, loved her so dearly that he would not believe it and threatened his staff under obscure clauses in the Patriot Act not to say anything more about it.
The following year, they adopted a beautiful little girl, and for the third time Hel appeared to her in the night and said, “Follow me.”
She took the woman by the hand and led her to the suburbs and showed children playing in their yards as well as families sitting down to dinner. “Is thy heart not yet softened? If thou wilt own that thou openest the forbidden door, I will restore the full spark of life and allow thee to bring forth children.”
But for the third time the woman answered, “No, I didn’t open the forbidden door.”
Then Hel transported them back to the nursery. Once more, she removed the spark of life. The zombie lurched to the crib and feasted on the infant, tearing it to shreds. But this time, Hel did not restore any of the spark.
The zombie lurched into the halls of the mansion causing people to run in fear from the bloody apparition. She fell on a fleeing aide and ripped his throat out. Soon, the aide sat up and joined in the chaos. This time, the governor could not deny or restrain his staff as, one by one, others were attacked and turned.
“Zombies!” people screamed as they ran from the mansion.
Numerous zombies poured forth, staggering across the city to spread the infection. A state trooper driving down a lonely road pulled up when he saw a solitary female zombie with long blonde hair shambling along. Climbing out of his car, he had his partner hand him the shotgun. Waiting until the creature drew close enough, he brought the shotgun to his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. There was a loud boom and the top two-thirds of the zombie’s head disintegrated in a mist of brain, blood, and bone.
“Didn’t that look like the governor’s wife?” the trooper inside the car asked his partner as the man handed the shotgun back in.
“If it was,” the other trooper said as he slid behind the wheel, “she’s at peace now.”
4
The Boy who Left Home in Search of the Creeps
Based on:
Marchen von einem, der auszog das Furchten zu lernen
A father had two sons; the oldest was smart and sensible, able to deal with anything that came his way, but the youngest was basically an idiot. Everyone who saw him said, “His father will have trouble with that one!”
If there was a task at hand, it was always the oldest who had to do it. But if his father asked the oldest boy to get something at dusk, let alone at night, and said task might lead near, past, or through the neighboring graveyard, he would say, “Oh, no, Father, I won’t go. It gives me the creeps.”
And in the evening when stories that made your skin crawl were told around the fire, the listeners would say, “Oh it gives me the creeps.”
The younger boy who usually sat alone, listening, simply did not understand. “They keep saying: ‘It gives me the creeps, it gives me the creeps!’ It doesn’t give me the creeps…it
must be just another thing that I’m too thick to understand.”
One day his father said to him, “Listen, you over there in the corner, you’re getting to be a big lad. You’ll have to learn something to make a living, boy. Your brother is always working, but you’re useless.”
“I agree, Father,” the younger son said. “And I want to learn something. In fact…I want to learn how to get the creeps. That is something I haven’t been able to understand.”
What an idiot, the oldest brother thought when he heard. Talk about the elevator not reaching the top floor.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” the father sighed. “And you can’t earn a living that way.”
A few days later, the pastor from the nearby foursquare dropped in for a visit. The father unburdened himself and told the man how ignorant his youngest son was, how he knew nothing and learned nothing. “Just listen to this,” he said. “When I asked him what he wanted to do for a living, he said he wanted to learn how to get the creeps.”
“If that’s what he wants,” the pastor replied, “he can learn that with me. Let him come with, and I’ll whip him into shape.”
The father thought that, at the very least, his son would get something out of the deal and agreed. The pastor took him home and assigned him the task of ringing the church’s old-fashioned bell. After a few days, he had what he considered a brilliant plan. He would secretly go up ahead of the boy and wait for him in the belfry.
When the boy came to the top and turned to grab the rope, he saw a white figure on the stairs across from the sound hole.
“Who’s there?” he cried, but the figure neither moved nor responded. “Answer me,” the boy insisted, “or go away. You’ve no business here in the middle of the night.”
Gruesomely Grimm Zombie Tales Page 2
