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A Story by Dread Solomon
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Warning: This story is rated Immature and may contain material not suitable for readers under the age of one... :P

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It came with the trumpets of silence blaring around it. Flakes of dirt and rotting flesh fell off it as it lumbered past marble crucifixes out of the cemetery and into the empty street. The corpse stumbled as it entered the orange annulus beneath a streetlamp, in the process dislodging its entire arm from its shoulder.
Crouching within the shadows of an alleyway, Alex nearly screamed, had it not been for the man beside him to clasp a hand over his mouth. Swallowing the scream back, Alex looked at him, the greatest zombie-killer of all time, his father. 
'Why do I even let you talk me into this?' asked Alex. Ignoring the question, Mr. Grimm returned his attention towards the cadaver, now struggling to pull itself back to its feet. The attempt cost it its other arm. He sighed.
'Look, son,' said the man when he could not ignore the fact that his only son was starting to have second thoughts on the matter at hand, 'We all know that I don't have much time left, that you're the only one left to inherit the family business, seeing that your bloody wimp of a brother can't even stand the sight of blood and s**t.' 
This is so messed up. Alex knew that his father would not rest until he finally had the guts to kill his first ever zombie, which was still trying to reach for one of its arms by performing a rather unsettling dance on the ground, something resembling a retarded break-dance, grunting in the process. It's now or never.
Mr. Grimm unzipped the duffel bag beside him to reveal a chainsaw, its teeth still glistening with stains of blood. He pulled it out and marveled at it for a moment. 
'Son, it's time to be a man,' said Mr. Grimm, who then handed the chainsaw over to Alex's shaking hands. He stared at it for a moment and looked up at the corpse, which now had both arms attached and ready to do whatever they do after rising from the grave. It was probably on its way to bang some unsuspecting necrophiliac bimbo in a nearby motel. Probably. 
The mere thought of what the zombie could do should it be allowed to enter civilization bolstered a mingle of anger and courage inside him, motivating him by the second to decapitate it with the chainsaw he was now gripping with sweaty hands. 
'Okay,' started his father, 'think of a strategy here, even though you're dealing with something that doesn't even have a single brain cell in it...' Before he could even finish, Alex had already charged towards it, the chainsaw roaring ferociously in the night air by his side. 'Eat this, m**********r!!' screamed Alex, who swung the rotating blade through the corpse's neck before it even realized it had company. Blood splattered out across Alex's face as the head came off and smashed into the ground with a sickening squelch. The chainsaw flew out from Alex's perspiring fingers in mid-swing squarely into Mr. Grimm's chest, whose eyes widened into saucers before collapsing into the gravel. 'Oops' was all Alex could manage. 
An inhuman burst of laughter rang out into the night from the fallen head. Apparently, it could still see the irony even without its body. 'Oh put a sock in it!' shouted Alex as he kicked it back down the pavement.
   

© 2010 Dread Solomon


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Dread Solomon
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Added on April 11, 2010
Last Updated on April 11, 2010
Tags: Short story, horror, cadaver, chain-saw

Author

Dread Solomon
Dread Solomon

Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia



About
'I believe whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you... stranger.' I'm a whole bunch of things... a poet, a story teller, a lazy novelist, a pianist, a beginner saxophonist, a geek with good loo.. more..

Writing