She looked up at Harry and her eyes pleaded with him - 'Fix it Harry,' they said.
Harry looked around the room in desperation; as if the tree with its lights could jump start his son, as if the presents in their multicolored wrappings could revive him. He could not find a solution.
Something was happening in his brain. It was slowing; the last synapses firing off like gunshots. His throat was drying up again and he thought of the turkey he has just left, of the ham he had devoured. He remembered the image that had instigated his binge.
Poor Elizabeth Gordon had stood up and walked again.
Harry turned to Tiny Mikey. The lust hit him again, and a string of saliva dangled from his lip.
“Harry?” Catherine asked, her eyes were wary and she was trying to back away from him, but she refused to let go of Mikey's hand. “Harry, what's wrong?”
Harry ignored her and walked over to their son. His bare arm lay over his blanket, the flesh not as plump as it used to be, but it was flesh nonetheless.
He put the little forearm between his teeth and bit down. Catherine screamed. Tiny Mikey moaned. Harry kept on chewing. They would damn well have Christmas.
By some inhuman – or perhaps human – restraint, Harry managed to pull away while there was still some meat left on his son's bones. He stood and watched him, his limbs twitching to get back to the feast, but somehow he managed to abstain.
Catherine was screaming and cowering in the corner. Harry had done his job well; there were no exits left.
On the sofa Tiny Mikey started to stir, and Harry knew it would be okay. His little body was reanimating, coming back to life in death. His rebirth had been quick, probably because he had been so close to death in the first place.
Harry turned to his wife. What a fine piece of meat she was. Her thighs jiggled as she shook in terror; such quivering, juicy hams.
Oh yes, they would damn well have Christmas after all.
Zombie Party Mix
By Beth Bartlett
If you’re strapped for a gift
Zombies are used to being stiffed
Just go ahead and put that wallet away
They want a present from the heart
And any other body parts
You have all the stuff to make their day
Those chilblained fingers
Have a taste that lingers
Especially when tossed
In Worchester sauce
Snow-covered noses
Frost-bitten toeses
It all goes
In the Zombie Party Mix
Those dangling earlobes
Are better gifts than robes
And how often do you use those eyelids, anyway?
Let a zombie take a nibble
Or stir you into kibble
Because it’s all about sharing for the holiday
Unused knuckles
Nobbly carbuncles
Toasted or not
It still hits the spot
Elbows and meaty things
Or Grandma’s bingo wings
Makes all the Undead sing
For the Zombie Party Mix
They’ll take a liver or a bladder
Or even some brain matter
And toss it in a big bowl for the buffet
Just wait until dessert
You’ll give until it hurts
With finger foods arranged on a tray
Eyeballs to pluck
Are tasty potluck
Achilles heels
Bring on the squeals
Throw in a juicy appendix
It’s the perfect fix
With a few breadsticks
For the Zombie Party Mix
If you don’t want to end up thinner
Or the main course of a zombie dinner
This is the part where you run away
Shut the door and lock yourself in
Rub some peanut butter on your skin
Undead peanut allergies will keep them at bay
You’ll be alive
To live and thrive
You can survive
The Zombie Party Mix.
Story Art Cover
LyndalFerguson
[email protected]
Dedication
For my mom
Author Bio
Melissa Helwig is a Print Journalism graduate who currently lives in Oakville, Ontario. She has been a fan of the horror genre for as long as she can remember. She is the creator of blog Little Miss Zombie (http://littlemisszombie.blogspot.com), where she reviews horror books and movies.
Attack of the Zombie Toys
By Melissa Helwig
“Attention everyone!” Princess Penelope shouted through the Barbie microphone, her voice high-pitched. “Ryan and Molly are about to open their presents, so gather ‘round.”
Molly’s toys began filtering toward the center of her bedroom, where Princess Penelope stood. They kept their eyes on the door, in case a human walked by. Rule One of the Toy Code stated, “No toy shall ever reveal to a human that they are real – accidentally or purposely.”
Molly was a sly little girl who always poked her head into her room minutes after she left, hoping to catch one of her toys walking around. She had an inkling that her toys were as alive as she was. Princess Penelope longed to tell her, so they could carry on a conversation as two normal best friends would, but rules were rules.
Bobo came before the other toys. He was Molly’s first teddy bear. The pink ribbon he wore around his neck was as bright as the day she got him, but his brown fur was matted and completely gone in a few patches on his belly. Bobo was the oldest of Molly’s toys.
Next came Baby Burps-a-Lot, a baby doll that Molly received for her sixth birthday a few months ago. After Molly fed Baby her bottle and rubbed her back, she would let out a loud belch.
Ken arrived with Barbie One and Barbie Two on each arm. They were decked out for the holidays. Ken wore his usual tuxedo, but added a Santa hat. Barbie One had her long, blonde hair tied back with a red ribbon and wore an ankle-length red dress and a white apron with a gingerbread man on it. Barbie Two wore a short sequined red dress and left her long, blonde hair down. The threesome lived in the North Corner, the best area of Molly’s Room, in a giant house complete with a pool and a Corvette. Ken had the best of both worlds with his two girlfriends. Barbie One took care of him. She loved cooking and baking, while all Barbie Two wanted to do was have fun.
The ponies were the last to join the group. Even then, they stood near the back, whispering to each other. Sparkles, Rainbow and Cupcake had their own snobby clique and spent most of their time gossiping about the other toys.
Now that the toys had gathered, Princess Penelope dropped the microphone and picked up a pink Walkie-Talkie.
Princess Penelope wasn’t just the leader of the toys because she was a princess. It was because she was Molly’s favorite doll. She hadn’t been around as long as Bobo – she arrived a few years after. Princess Penelope was a beautiful doll. She had blonde hair, which was always tied in a braid that reached her feet. A silver tiara studded with jewels sat upon her head and she wore a long pink dress. She had dark blue eyes, the color of blueberries.
“Angel, are you there? Over!” Princess Penelope said.
“Yes. The kids finished breakfast. They’re heading to the tree now. Over!” Angel whispered.
Angel was another of Molly’s dolls and Princess Penelope’s best friend. She hadn’t been around for very long, arriving last Christmas, but Angel bonded with Molly and Princess Penelope quickly. Angel was also a gorgeous doll, wearing a long, white gown, curly blonde hair with a golden halo, and had small angel wings protruding from her back. Which was why she was chosen for the spy mission. Nobody would look twice if they saw an angel on a Christmas tree. She hid off the side and tied the Walkie-Talkie to a branch on the inside of the tree with Molly’s jump rope.
Angel ducked into the tree as the kids came racing in, followe
d by their parents holding mugs of steaming coffee.
“Wait!” Mom exclaimed and the kids froze, presents in hand. “I have to get the camera.”
Ryan and Molly rolled their eyes as she walked away.
A few minutes later she returned, digital camera in hand.
“Okay. Go ahead,” she said, positioning the camera to get a good shot.
The kids gleefully tore into the gifts, shredding shiny green and red wrapping paper.
Ryan gasped in surprise as he opened his first present: a Louisville Slugger.
Molly squealed in delight when she opened her gift: a doll with long black hair, big brown eyes, a frilly blue dress and a huge smile filled with white teeth.
She took her out of the box to admire her beauty.
“We have Molly’s first present. It’s a doll. Over.” Angel whispered over the Walkie-Talkie.
In Molly’s bedroom all the toys cheered, except Barbie One.
“I hope it’s not another Barbie,” she said, frowning.
“Hey, wouldn’t that be great?” Ken grinned.
“Ask Angel if it’s another Barbie,” Barbie One asked Princess Penelope. She glared at Ken.
“Angel, is it another Barbie Doll? Over.” Princess Penelope said.
“No. I have to get back out there now. I think they’re opening more presents. Over.” Angel said, peeking her head out between the tree branches.
“Here, let me take a picture of you two with your presents,” Mom said
Ryan and Molly stood in front of the living room window, beside the tree, and held up their gifts. Ryan put his baseball bat over his shoulder as if he was ready to take a swing. Molly hugged her new doll to her chest and smiled.
“Say ‘Thank you, Santa!’ “
“Thank you, Santa!” The kids chimed in unison.
The camera flashed and Mom looked at it on the digital screen.
“That’s a great pic, you two!” Mom said, happily. “…Wait a minute. What’s the in the background?”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Molly shrieked as something crashed through the window, spraying the presents and tree with shards of broken glass.
Two arms reached through the window and grabbed Molly, then attempted to pull her through the window.
“HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Molly wailed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Whatever—or whoever—had their arms wrapped around her smelled worse than their dead hamster, Cookie, when they found her dead under a couch cushion three weeks after she went missing. And it was strong, too. Molly tried to break free from its grasp, but she couldn’t.
Dad rushed forward and grabbed Molly, tugging her from the scabby arms.
But Molly still wasn’t free because she was holding her new doll…and so was the thing.
“Let go!” She screeched, pulling her doll away from hands that looked as if they had been shoved down a garbage disposal.
“Molly! For the love of God let go!” Mom yelled.
Before Molly could obey and let go, the thing did it for her by popping the doll’s arm into its mouth and biting it off.
Molly stared in horror as it chewed and swallowed her brand new doll’s arm.
Everyone took a step back, except the hideous thing, which took a step forward.
Its skin looked as if it was melting off its bones - in some places you could actually see them. And blood was smeared all over its body, but particularly noticeable around its mouth and chin. It slowly dripped off its chin and made loud splat sounds on the hardwood floor.
Ryan knew it was a zombie. Although he was forbidden to watch scary movies (“You’re too young for that stuff,” his parents always said. But if you asked him 9-years-old was old enough. All his friends were allowed to watch them!). He often snuck downstairs after his parents fell asleep to watch “Fright Friday”. A few weeks ago he watched a movie called Dawn of the Dead. This creature was just like the zombies in the film. The rotten flesh was a dead giveaway.
He also knew how to kill them. They needed guns - and lots of ‘em. But they didn’t have any…as far as he knew. So he did the first thing that came to mind.
Ryan swung his Louisville Slugger as hard as he could and felt it make contact with the zombie’s skull. He heard the loud snap from the zombie’s skull breaking free from its bony neck and watched it fly across the street. If he had been playing baseball that would’ve been a home run for sure.
As the remainder of the zombie’s body slumped to the ground, disappearing from view behind the window, the rest of the family gaped in horror.
“Angel, what’s going on down there? Are you okay? Over.” Princess Penelope’s squeaky voice crackled through the Walkie-Talkie.
“I’m all right, but something horrible just happened. A monster broke through the window and grabbed Molly!”
“Oh no!”
“She’s fine, but the new doll had her arm ripped off – and eaten!”
“Eaten?!”
“Yes, the monster chewed up her arm and swallowed it. But everything’s okay now. Ryan saved us all.”
“Should we come down and help?”
“No, you can’t risk getting caught.”
“Okay. You try and help the new doll and we’ll think of a plan to help, too. Over.”
Angel stuck her head through the branches of the tree and surveyed the damage.
Molly was slumped to the floor, sobbing, her new doll in a heap on the floor.
Ryan had dropped the bat and stood in front of the window, wide-eyed, staring out.
Mom and Dad were still standing frozen in shock, trying to comprehend what just happened. Eventually they snapped out of it and realized they needed to do something to secure their home.
“We need to cover that window with something,” said Dad. “Here, help me with the bookshelf.”
Dad and Mom each grabbed an end of the bookshelf, knocking most of the books off in the process, while the children watched.
“Well that takes care of one window, but what about the others?” Mom asked.
“Before we do anything we need to find out what’s going on and come up with a plan,” replied Dad.
“My dolly is okay!” Molly interrupted.
“Not now, Molly,” Dad sighed impatiently.
“Daddy, she’s alive! She’s walking and everything!”
“I said not now, Molly!” He snapped.
Suddenly he felt a sharp pain on his ankle. He glanced down and saw Molly’s new doll attached to his ankle. Streams of blood flowed onto his foot. He didn’t understand what was happening until the doll lifted its head up and he gazed into its gleaming glass eyes. They were staring right into his eyes – and they were malevolent. Then the doll turned its attention back to his ankle and he felt it tear the flesh from his bone like it was eating a drumstick.
“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Dad screamed in agony. He tried to kick the doll off his ankle, but she clamped on.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mom asked, terrified.
Then she saw a doll chewing on her husband’s ankle like it was the Christmas turkey.
She rushed over and yanked the doll off her husband’s ankle, receiving a bite on her forearm in the process.
“Ow!” She yelled, dropping the doll to the floor. “What’s going on here? We bought the doll from Child’s Play?”
Mom glanced at Dad. He didn’t look so hot. His skin was a ghostly white and sweat was pouring down his forehead, as if he had been caught in a downpour.
She ran to the washroom to grab the first aid kit, when suddenly she felt sick. She dropped to her knees and clutched her stomach.
Ryan and Molly stared in horror at their parents, unsure of what to do.
Eventually Mom and Dad stopped sweating and writhing in agony. They had blank looks in their eyes and lurched toward their children.
“Mom?Dad?” Molly said, apprehensive.
“Molly, they’re zombies now. RUN!” Ryan shouted, while grabbing his little sister’s hand and running in
to the washroom.
“Princess Penelope! Ryan and Molly are in trouble!” Angel screeched over the Walkie-Talkie.
“What’s wrong?” Princess Penelope replied.
“Something’s wrong with Mom and Dad. They’re acting crazy!”
“What?”
“They’re attacking the kids! Get down here! We have to save them!”
“We’re on our way.”
While Mom and Dad pounded on the washroom door, Angel climbed down the Christmas tree. When she reached the bottom, she realized she forgot about one small detail: the new doll.
It pounced on her as soon as her feet hit the floor. She didn’t even have time to scream as it bit into her skull, leaving a gaping hole in the side of her head. It chewed noisily and quickly, eager to get the next bite into its bloated belly.
The doll was too busy feasting on Angel to see what was behind it.
Princess Penelope quietly walked up behind it and drove the pointed end of a jack into the doll’s skull. It collapsed on top of Angel.
Princess Penelope shoved the dead doll aside so she could see Angel.
“Oh Angel, what has she done to you?” She sobbed and walked away, unable to look at her.
Most of her head was missing –her mouth and chin remained – and that was more than enough.
The toys saw that Mom and Dad had broken down the bathroom door, and hurried over to try to help the kids.
They scratched at their feet and ankles with their jacks and toy swords, but that did little more than annoy the zombies. It took one second for Dad to reach down, grab Ken and bite his head off as if he were made of chocolate, tossing the rest of his body to the floor.
The other toys backed away in fear, but Princess Penelope used the diversion to squeeze between Dad’s legs and into the bathroom.
It wasn’t going well in there.
Ryan was slumped on the floor, clutching his arm and sweating profusely. He had been bitten trying to save his little sister, and soon he would turn just as his parents had.
Molly cowered in the bathtub with the shower curtain closed, sobbing, hoping they couldn’t see her, but knowing that they could.
The Undead That Saved Christmas Vol. 2 Page 8
