Gruesomely Grimm Zombie Tales

by Wilhelm Grimm, Jakob Grimm

  When they heard that, Moz’s men were terrified. Not one of them dared lay hands on him and they ran as if the hounds of hell had been released on their heels. From that day on, Rennard ran the entire compound and Moz kept to himself.

  21

  Cindy Rallie

  Based on:

  Aschenputtel

  A wealthy man, Robert Rallie, was married to his childhood sweetheart named Sarah. Sarah used her money and position in society in a way that often shamed those in the upper-crust societal circles she was associated with. Sarah spent countless days, evenings, and weekends at shelters for the homeless or for battered women and abused children. Thus it was, that on a cold October morning, a man stumbled through the door of The New Direction homeless shelter and collapsed in the entry hall. Sarah was the first to reach the man’s side. She was calling for help when the filthy vagrant grasped her arm and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of her wrist.

  By the time the police arrived, two regular employees of the shelter had trapped the “crazed” man in a closet. Both had been “nipped” or scratched by the unidentified stranger, neither felt they required medical attention. One, in particular, was most anxious to avoid the hospital as his flight to Bejing was to be that evening and he was very excited about the vacation he’d saved for fifteen months to take.

  Three nights later, Sarah Rallie was feeling sicker than ever before in her life. Watching the news that night, she’d heard strange reports of ‘rabid citizens’ attacking and biting innocent passers-by. Then those reports changed and it was being said that the dead were somehow reanimating and eating people just as in some poorly thought out horror movie that ignored all concepts of biology and focused on gruesome and brutal violence as if it were something to be celebrated.

  Sensing she was about to die, Sarah Rollie called her only daughter, Cindy, to her bedside and said, “Dear child, be good and say your prayers; God will help in time of need, and I will look down on you from Heaven. Even though I will be gone, I’ll always be with you.” With that, she closed her eyes and died.

  Even though Cindy and her father had heard and seen terrible things on the news, they didn’t fully believe it until a moment later when Sarah opened her eyes once more. Gone was that spark, gone was the love. It was replaced by…nothing. And that was the worst of all. There was no anger or hatred in Sarah’s dead eyes. There was simply…nothing.

  Robert Rallie did as the media instructed. He drove an awl through his wife’s forehead. Then, he and his daughter Cindy carried the corpse out to the backyard and buried it. They had an enormous plot of property, all of it fenced off by a stone wall that not even Robert, who was very tall, could see over.

  As things grew worse, a few straggling survivors arrived at the Rallie estate and were taken in. In her grief, Cindy hardly noticed. Every day she went out to her mother’s grave and wept and went on being good and saying prayers. As winter set in, the snow spread a white cloth over the grave.

  Outside the wall, the rest of the world fell to the chaos of an apocalypse that turned out to be far worse than depicted in books and movies. Disease and illness returned with a vengeance to take many who managed to survive the onslaught of the walking dead. Pests and vermin multiplied exponentially and there was rumor that swarms of flies in the larger cities could block out the sun as spring brought warmth which amplified the rot.

  It was in that first spring that Robert Rallie, who had long since abandoned his daughter to her grief and moved on, remarried. His new wife, Polly, brought with her two daughters—Eve and Rhea—who insisted on keeping their real father’s surname of Voll. Both girls were strikingly beautiful with their auburn hair, hazel eyes, and lily-white skin, but their hearts were ugly and black. That was the beginning of the troubles that would befall Cindy Rallie.

  “Why should this silly goose sit with us in the parlour?” they said. “All she does is sit all day by a stupid grave. Never does she lift a hand or forage for supplies. She’s never been outside the gates of this property since the zombies rose. She needs to at least get her ass in the kitchen and help prepare the meals.”

  So they took away her fine clothes and gave her a set of coveralls and scuffed up boots to wear. Of course, as Cindy’s workload increased, the sister’s decreased.

  “Look at daddy’s little princess now!” they mocked, and turned on a heel, leaving Cindy in the smoky, hot kitchen.

  From then on she did all the work, getting up before the sun, fetching water from the condensation traps, starting the morning fires, cooking and washing. The entire time, the sisters did all they could to make her miserable. They made fun and hid the dry kindling so that she had to use a hatchet to shave wood to make more. Their favorite trick was to toss a few unpopped popcorn kernals into the fire so that they would burst and fling ashes and cinders at the poor girl.

  At night, when she was tired out from work, she no longer had a bedroom to retire in. The sisters had taunted her with the memory of her generous mother until she agreed that “those less fortunate” should benefit. Strangely enough, the two sisters claimed the status of formerly impoverished. They took to calling the girl Ashpuddle since she was always sweaty and covered in grime from the hearth.

  One day when her father was preparing to leave on a scavenger run with a handful of survivors living at the Rallie estate, he asked his two stepdaughters what he should bring them back special.

  “Beautiful dresses,” Eve purred.

  “Diamonds and pearls,” Rhea cooed.

  “And what about my industrious little Ashpuddle?” asked her dad, thinking that this nickname he’d heard was a term of endearment used by the Voll sisters.

  “Father,” Cindy said to Robert Rallie, “break off the first branch that brushes against your hat on your way home, and bring it to me.”

  So he sought out beautiful dresses for Eve, and diamonds and pearls for Rhea. On the way home, as he was sneaking through a copse, a hazel branch brushed against him and knocked off his hat. So he broke off the branch and took it home with him.

  When he returned to the safety of the huge, walled estate, he gave the stepdaughters what they had asked for, and gave Cindy the branch. After thanking him, she went to her mother’s grave and planted the hazel sprig over it. Some say that she then cried so hard that her tears were enough to water the sprig. It grew and became a beautiful tree.

  Three times a day, Cindy went and sat under it and wept and prayed. Each time she did, a little white bird perched there and sang. Cindy always made a wish when the little bird flew away.

  Now it so happened that another band of survivors had taken up on the grounds of the university atop a hill. This group often traded and offered assistance to the smaller bands in the area. One year, they decided to throw a bash to celebrate survival. It was also announced that this would be a great time for women to consider becoming pregnant in order to ensure the gen-etic diversity in their compounds of origin.

  Also, the son of the elected leader made it clear that he was looking for a wife from one of the outsiders. He was known to be kind as well as being blessed with a striking resemblance to Brad Pitt. When the two stepsisters read the announcement, they were delighted. They hunted down Cindy who had humbly trasitioned into the role of maid, cook, and caregiver for the two Voll sisters.

  “Hey, Ashpuddle,” Eve barked, “you’ve got some work to do.”

  “Yeah,” Rhea joined in, “we need our hair done, our shoes cleaned and polished, and our clothes pressed. There is a big party being thrown at the university compound tomorrow.”

  Cindy did as she was told, but she wept, for she too would have liked to go dance and feast. She begged her stepmother Polly to allow her to attend.

  “You skunk!” the stepmother cackled. “How could you even consider going to such a party when you look filthy. And what on earth would you wear? You don’t own a single dress.”

  Cindy had long since outgrown her childhood clothing, and she’d never asked for anythin
g when her dad went out scavenging. Instead, she was frugal and made her own clothes. Still, she really wanted to go and continued to beg.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Polly said with a leer. “Here, I’ve just dumped a bowful of lentils into the ashes. If you can pick them out in two hours, you may go.”

  What happened next is subject to skepticism like that hazel tree incident. But here’s the rumor; Cindy went out the back door to the grave of her mother and called out the the birds in that tree:

  “Tame little doves.

  You turtle doves in the tree,

  I need your help.

  Put the good ones in the pot

  And the bad ones in your crop.”

  Then a small flock of birds swooped in and settled at the edge of the ashes and began to peck peck peck. An hour later, not a lentil hadn’t been plucked from the hearth and replaced in the little brass pot.

  Cindy was so excited that she hurried to where Polly was reclining in the sun, sipping some homemade wine. The girl just knew she’d be partying at the U.

  “No, Ashpuddle,” Polly slurred. “You don’t have anything to wear, and you have serious white-girl rhythm. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”

  When Cindy began to cry, Polly decided to get the girl out of her hair the easiest way possible. This time she grabed two pots of lentils and tossed them in the ashes of the hearth. “If you can find a way to pick out both pots of lentils from the hearth, then you can go.” Of course, all the while she thought, no way in hell she pulls this off in time.

  While some say she just used a jerry-rigged hand vac, then dusted them off, others insist that twice as many birds showed up the second time that she went out to the tree and cried. This time she was done in a half hour. She brought both bowls to her stepmother with a smile on her face. She was certain that, this time, Polly would let her go to the party.

  “I was trying to be nice.” Polly shook her head. “Look, you don’t have anything to wear, you can’t dance, and the bottom line is that I’d be too embarrassed if people knew you were my stepdaughter.”

  Polly pulled herself to her feet and staggered just a bit as she returned inside with her two daughters.

  Cindy decided then and there that she’d had about enough. There comes a point when being meek and humble turns into being a doormat. Besides, she thought, God helps those who help themselves.

  Taking a pair of wicked machetes, she slipped over the wall and made her way into town. It was even worse than she imagined. It seemed that her arms would fall off she had to swing the blades so much. If not for the years of hard work, she probably wouldn’t have made it far. Like a dervish, she whirled and spun, taking the tops off of many zombie heads until she found a huge shopping mall.

  She was surprised that it appreared so intact until she climbed through a broken display window. The only thing that came to mind was an old documentary where a red ant had mistakenly wandered into a black anthill. She had to fight, but eventually she made her way to the second level where traffic was considerably thinner. Zombies seemed to have lots of trouble with stairs.

  Eventually she found a shop that specialized in evening gowns. Out of habit, she glanced at some of the price tags. Her eyes landed on a gold dress with silver trimming. She scooped a few pairs of nylons into her big coat pockets, then tried on a half-dozen pair of shoes until she opened a box from an upper shelf with the most exquisite stiletto-heeled pumps.

  Her last stop was the most dangerous: a department store. She had to fight off a one-armed woman that had gotten trapped behind the make-up counter as she plucked the tubes, jars, and bottles she thought would bring out her best features.

  The journey back to the safety of her home ended up diverting to the university. She avoided their security and made her way to one of the campus buildings. After fetching a bucket of water, Cindy cleaned up, applied her make-up, and slipped into her new dress and shoes.

  When she walked out to the courtyard where the party was in full swing, she was surprised to see so many new faces. It turned out that the university people had sent runners to all of the surrounding outposts of survivors. For the first time since the zombie apocalypse, all two hundred-plus survivors in the valley were together, celebrating life.

  When Mitch, the university leader’s son, saw Cindy, he was blown away. She was so beautiful that he was halfway across the surprisingly well-manicured lawn before he realized that his feet were moving. He asked her to dance, and for a moment, Cindy was worried. However, she was so transformed by all her finery that her stepmother and stepsisters didn’t recognize her. As far as they knew, she was scroungy-looking Ashpuddle, and that girl was back at the house picking lentils out of the hearth, wearing her unflattering coveralls.

  Mitch danced with Cindy all afternoon. Anytime somebody tried to cut in, he waved them off. As the day passed into afternoon, everybody was buzzing about the hottie. Nobody seemed to know whose compound she’d come from.

  As the sun began to set, all the guests were preparing to return for the night to their own secure complexes and homes. Mitch offered to escort Cindy home, because he really wanted to know which delegation she’d arrived with so he could make an offer to have her moved to the university. But Cindy slipped away and ducked into the same building she’d used to change.

  It just so happened that Cindy’s father Robert Rallie was talking to Mitch at the time and saw the girl duck around the corner. Could that be Ashpuddle? he thought, but quickly shook off the idea. Mitch realized the girl had slipped away and searched every group as they departed, hoping to catch one more glimpse.

  When Robert, Polly, and all their group returned, Cindy had already changed back into her grubby coveralls and cleaned out all the firepits and the hearth just to ensure she was suitable filthy. She’d just gotten the fire in the hearth lit when they walked into the kitchen.

  When she’d made her way back, she’d first hidden her newly acquired make-up case, then cut up and ditched the gown and shoes. The next morning, when everybody set out for the university again, Cindy cleaned up, grabbed her blades and set out for the mall. It wasn’t nearly as bad this time. Many of the stragglers in the area had been drawn by the abundance of activity around the university area.

  This time she chose a red gown and ruby crusted shoes. She had refined her approach the second time, and by the time she was holed up in the little side-building on the edge of the campus, she only had to wipe off a little splatter on her neck and forearms.

  When she made her entrance at the party, people actually stopped in mid-word. Of course Mitch was waiting for her, and after he recovered from the spect-acle of her beauty, he took her hand and danced with no one but her.

  Once more, any time somebody tried to cut in, he waved them off. Cindy actually found it a little annoying, but every time she saw her stepsisters sulking, she got over it.

  As the sun began to set, Mitch was determined not to ler her slip away this time. He only turned away for a moment to shake somebody’s hand and thank them for coming. In that instant, Cindy made her break. Mitch caught sight of her as she ducked around the corner. He grabbed a few of his friends and told them to find the girl. He was even more curious now, because she was obviously not leaving out the main gates with the other groups.

  As before, Robert Rallie had seen the nimble girl dash away. There was something about her gait. It was so like…Sarah. He remembered back before the horror, how his late wife had gone out for a daily jog. Could that be his daughter? he thought. But he shook it off. This girl was clean, radiant, and beautiful. Sure enough, when they all returned to the Rallie Estate, she was out tending to the garden in her coveralls.

  On the third and final day of the party, everything went as the two days before. Cindy encountered almost no zombies this time. In fact, scavenging tomorrow would be a lot easier for those in the area. All the movement had brought most of the lingering zombies to Cindy. Many of them had been put down. As for the mall…Cindy’d practically saniti
zed the place on her own.

  The dress she picked for the final day was a low-cut backless, strapless number that barely went to mid-thigh. It hugged every curve on her body. To finish it off, she chose an understated but classy pair of slip-ons.

  When she made her appearance on the third day, there was an awed hush. Mitch actually had butterflies in his stomach. When Cindy saw her stepsisters crying on their mother’s shoulders, she didn’t mind a bit. Nor did she mind that Mitch chased away any guy who came within five feet.

  As the sun began to set, Cindy started looking for her opportunity to make a break for it. Mitch kept insisting that he walk her home with his personal escort. Cindy kept making non-committal sounds and gestures. When the moment presented itself, she bolted. This time, Mitch had a trick up his sleeve. During the party, he’d had a couple of his pals wet down the area where she kept giving them the slip. As she was running, one of her shoes came off. Knowing that pursuit was coming, she kept running.

  When Mitch’s guys came back, one of them had the small, delicate black slip-on. He quickly cleaned it up. Next morning, he told his dad that he was going to pay a personal visit to the surrounding survivors and thank them for attending.

  “Hey, Mitch,” his dad called as he went to leave.

  “Yeah, dad?”

  “I hope you find her.”

  “Thanks, dad.”

  When Mitch and his security patrol arrived at the Rallie compound, the stepsisters were ecstatic. Eve snatched the shoe and ran to her room to try it on. Unfortunately, it was too small and she couldn’t fit her big toe in it.