The Skeletal Man

Chapter One

The skeletal man sits at a table in a café. He sits reading A Brief History of Time, to himself pointing out all the mistakes that one earthling can make never having ventured beyond one’s own atmosphere. He sits ignoring (but knowing full well of their pasts, presents, and futures) the other consumers that occupy the packed coffee house. He pays no attention to the lovely single mother who sits enjoying a coffee with her ten year-old son, the man who writes and writes spending hours upon hours at this home away from home trying to write the great American novel. He especially pays no attention to rapist psychopath who sits but two tables away planning his next victim.

There is one person that the skeletal man, how can I put this, it’s not that he entirely likes me, it’s more like he tolerates my existence. He once told me that I have an old soul. That I’m important to the way of the world. However, if not for that he would ignore me as he does everybody else.

I can’t say that I fully trust or believe the skeletal man in everything he says, I mean he wears suspenders and a belt, how can you trust a man who can’t even trust his pants. I bring up the subject of trust for this reason, and I know why he does it, to show me human emotions in their truest form, but what if something were to go wrong? How, if I’m important to the way of the world, can he ask me to come to a coffee shop that is five minutes from being shrouded in tragedy?

That being said I enter the coffee shop. Walk past the mother and the playful child. I beware of the psychopath and the knowledge of his evil deeds of past. Try to steal a peek of the writer’s music that he performs solitarily to himself. Only then reaching the skeletal man’s table.

“You don’t have time to order a drink,” the skeletal man says in his soothing voice.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I sit. He lowers the book.

“Why haven’t I ever heard of this Stephen Hawking before?”

“You know, I ask myself this all the time, all the years that you’ve been alive, how is it that there are things that you haven’t done, that you don’t know. Sometimes I think you are pulling my leg, testing me, seeing if I’ll taste these silly little cakes you bake.”

“I could live one million years and not experience one tenth of the universe. You’ll come to respect these ‘silly little cakes’ when you see where your silly little life leads you. There’ll come a day when your eyes will open. When you stop acting like a naive little piss ant child and learn something from what I have shown you.”

A man, the man who’ll change the future of everyone in this café, enters. The skeletal man looks in his direction, closing his eyes.

Opening them, “We should leave.”

I stand, half running out of the café, leaving the skeletal man behind, for he never walks faster than a saunter. I’m about five hundred feet away from the coffee shop when I stop and turn to see the whereabouts of my acquaintance. He is slowly making progress; I stand and wait for him.

Once he is beside me he raises a hand and places it over my eyes, I immediately see the interior of the coffee shop and all the patrons, whom are no longer sitting, but laying on the floor. The scene that we had just left is a robbery that will soon take a turn for the worse. A troubled man tries to be a hero, costing everyone his or her lives. All of this I see in full detail, the single mother twitching after a bullet had ripped through the back of her skull, dying as her only son is slaughtered beside her. I see the body of the rapist, all life gone from him. He died in one last attempt to right his wrongs, wrongs he had no intention of stopping. He was a man of death, death he dealt in sexual violence he forced against his male and female victims, and death that came to others, not by his own hand, but by another soul just like his. A soul, in the words of the skeletal man that is a dire necessity to the planet earth, a soul that is used for population control. (I had a lengthy conversation with the skeletal man about this subject, how diseases were our population control, then we had to go and find cures for these populace regulators. So nature took control of the situation and caused a sickness that we couldn’t cure, human bloodlust).

Being under the skeletal man’s spell, I sometimes loose control of myself and I’m not aware that he has removed his hand from my eyes. For when I finally come to we are in my car, the skeletal man driving, me in the backseat staring out the window.

“Why didn’t you do something back there? Why did you just let those innocent, well except for the one, he deserved what he got, but you just let the others die. I don’t understand you. You have the ability to change the world. Just admit it, you’re a fake.”

“Exactly what do you think I am? I’m not you’re god; I’m not here to save you. I’m not here to change anything. I am here because of you, and anything else that happens I can’t change. You don’t know anything, you haven’t seen what I’ve seen, you haven’t been where I’ve been. What happened today isn’t the worst I’ve shown you and it’s only downhill from here. I just can’t believe, all this time that I’ve spent showing you the worst of your world, you just don’t get it. I’m not sure you ever will.”

I adjust in my seat. “I get it; I’ve known what you’re trying to tell me.”

“Oh yeah? What am I trying to tell you?”

“Humans need to make a drastic change if we want to save the world we live on.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong.”

“I’m wrong? Okay, what the hell are you trying to tell me? What does all this mean?”

“I’m showing you the worst in people because I want to desensitize you of your love for this world. I’m trying to show that the earth is not worth saving. I’m trying to prepare you for the loss of what you call your home. I just don’t want to be playing mother to you when it’s gone.”

“And where is Earth going?”

“It’s not just Earth; your whole galaxy will soon no longer exist.”

We reach my apartment, the skeletal man helping me up the stairs that lead to my humble abode. Once inside he sets me on the couch and goes into the kitchen.

“Do you have bottled water?” he calls from the other room.

“If it’s not in there I don’t have it.”

He comes back in the living room holding a can of Pepsi.

“What are you so upset about?”

“I’m not upset; I have a headache from your stupid voodoo.”

“It’s not ‘voodoo’.”

“Magic, voodoo, whatever. I’m sorry I don’t know what your people call it.”

“We don’t call it anything; it just is what it is.”

“It really doesn’t matter. Right now, I just want to get some sleep.”

“Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”

I shift positions on the couch, laying my head on the armrest and close my eyes. I hear noise in my self-appointed darkness. Opening my eyes, I see that I am alone. Then comes a bang and a crashing of silverware as it hits the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought about making dinner. Are you hungry?”

I don’t answer. I just close my eyes and let sleep take me to a better place.

In my slumber, I don’t dream of kittens and mermaids. No, the skeletal man has ruined that for me for as long as I shall live. When I said I was going to a better place, I guess I was remembering a time when I didn’t awake in cold sweats. When my dreams weren’t filled with death and destruction. Maybe I was even thinking back to a time when a dream was filled with life’s longings. Not vulgar displays of violence from a past moment in my life.

I remember my last dream before the skeletal man reemerged into my life (we have met before, but that’s a story for a later time). I dreamt of a world just like ours. Lush green trees filled the parks that children (with no fear of sexual predators or the like to steal them away from their precious homes) played in sand boxes free of glass or candy bar wrappers or whatever else our deceitful winds decided to plant in them. A world just like ours only when a woman walked alone at night there was no fear, no suspicion of the man who just walked by.

All those great things and more, (breathable air, oceanic water levels that weren’t increasing by the day threatening to flood our way of life) there was just one thing that stuck out above all.

There was a brown eyed, brown haired girl (she seemed around the age of twenty-three) who led me around the city. I followed at her heels as she showed me the peacefulness that resided in this mysterious utopia.

However, the sites of the city played second best to this otherworldly beauty. She talked of the plentiful trees and litter free roadways, the words entering my ear but not staying to digest, my senses were heightened elsewhere.

She walked with a gracefulness and awareness. She seemed to stride carefully as not to hurt the microscopic creatures of this world. I watched as the wind caught her hair. As it danced to a symphony that only existed to itself.

Then the time came (you know the saying, all good things must come to an end) that my dream goddess had to leave. I was being called to another place. A place that I don’t know how I can, but somehow I call home. But who knows, maybe one day a genius will invent a way for dreams to come true.


This is the first chapter of what was supposed to be this great book I was going to write. It then turned into a struggle to write chapter two. I really like this, so maybe one day.



So I kind of looked at her, she gave me a smile. I told her I ain’t seen that smile pretty in a while. She looked at me dazedly then socked me in the jaw from below, what I assume you call an uppercut. She clambered off to do what men abusers do best, sharpen her knife collection or the like. It then hit me that through my absentminded tomfoolery I said the line wrong. So I hit myself in the groin and laid on the floor for about twenty minutes telling passersby that I was okay. That my injury was self-inflicted and that medical attention would be of no help at all.

It happened just like that. I swear to every word. It was after this incident that the lies start. But what is true in my little tale? Only a fool can tell.

The following happened on a weekday, any is as good as any, what’s the use of a specification? Would it really add to the circumference of this tell-go-round? I don’t think as much.

I’ll finish with this and continue the tale.

The weekday started as any other. A sun in the sky and my feet on the ground. I was venturing north at that moment. Capitalizing on the early hours to drive as fast as I might to arrive at my mother’s so that I might evacuate her premises at a reasonable enough time so that I may enjoy the viewing of the new Mark Paul-Gosselaar movie and not feel as though I am rushed in it’s ocular glorification. When I arrived I found the door half open, maybe half closed, I was too far away to tell. So I entered with caution and saw the thing to haunt my dreams running out the backdoor with my mother’s uterus encapsulating the peak of his pointy little skull. Around the corner I found my mother dead as she would be after a uterus removal attack. I approached her body and tried that eyes-close-move they do in movies and tv shows so that the actors don’t actually have to touch the other actor’s eyeballs. Nothing happened as you would assume, so I took two fingers and pressed them to her eyes and closed them. Standing over her, contemplating the complexities of a good life lived to be stolen so violently the little troll poked his head inside as if to taunt me. To ask if I were interested in a little game of cat and mouse. Which he followed with, “You’ll be the pussy and I’ll be the sly rodent that gets away.” He started laughing; fell over laughing. While he was distracted in his own amusement I grabbed one of my father’s golf clubs, quietly approached the “sly” rodent and hit the little fucker with so much gusto that his limbs and head all separated from his torso.

I wasn’t truthful in telling what haunted my dreams. The little troll thing was not in fact the cause of my nightmares. No, the real cause was much worse and I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to share it with you, so here it is: After hitting the troll with the golf club I thought everything was over. That I’d call the cops, report the murder and go home and plan the funeral. Instead I nearly shit myself when I saw my mother’s uterus crawling back towards her, crawling back inside and my mother opening her eyes and saying to me, “Charlie, how are you? I ain’t seen that smile pretty in a while.”

Vampire and the Bear

The vampire didn’t scare me per se. It more just, how do you put it? Tickled my fancy, I guess that’s the best way to put it. I wasn’t scared in any way possible which was strange because he looked as if he wanted to kill me in the truest definition of the word. He was grunting and growling, some sort of liquid dripping out of his mouth, blood dripping from his fingernails from the bear that he had drained the life out of before I entered the cavern. He inched a step closer to me seeming a little wary of my unwavering disconcern of his morbidity. He took one more step before I spoke.

“Hold on lad, give it a tick would ya?” I finished pissing on the pile of rocks and zipped up.

In true vampire form the beast replied, “I will kill you!”

Putting my junk in it’s proper position to create the least amount of discomfort, I turned so that I was face to face with the creature.

“I don’t doubt that in the slightest, but you could have the common courtesy to give a man two shakes before creeping behind. If I were a lesser man you would’ve scared me silly and dribblings would’ve trickled me new pants leg. I don’t know if you are aware but ain’t no washrooms in these here woods. I was lucky enough to stumble upon this here cavern so that I would get a piss in peace, or so I thought. But no bother, not too much of a nuisance, just glad I didn’t partake of the this privacy moments prior or I would’ve came face to face with old Yogi over there. Am I right?”

Again, as unoriginal as a broken record, “I willkill you!”

“But imagine that bear taking charge of the situation. Striking fast at your silly bits, maybe a nibble or two of your buttocks. And just for shits and giggles plucking your still beating heart dripping your life into it’s grizzly jawls. It’s a horrifying tale, lucky I missed it. But I have to say that I’ve seen a good majority of your movies and that you are a voracious eater of the flesh with a tendency to give an unsuspecting Babylonian whore the old in and out.”

Flattered at the recognition the vampire emits a smirk across his ashen face.

“You are a kidder, no? He approaches me and sets an arm around my neck, like any buddy or pal would do at a baseball game. “I once knew a guy like you. It was 1435 and the waters were young. A shipman is what I was at the time. Exploring the seas for that grand treasure, scoring the sex of those ‘Babylonian whores’. I shipwrecked on an island after fourteen days at sea. I was glad for land at any cost, and me being a mortal human in those days, food was becoming a commodity that I just didn’t have.”

He placed a hand on the back of my neck.

“An island of lush, exotic flora was laid before me…”

It was then that I felt a sharp prick on my neck…

In Your Eyes


The girl made me twitch and I have never twitched before. I didn’t know the human body was actually capable of a twitch or maybe I never knew what a twitch really was up until that point. There wasn’t anything weird looking about the girl, she was sort of like myself, mousey, like the actress Natalie Portman. We were both like that small and…well… mousey.

When I approached her it was another story. There was something about her that made my innards feel quite peculiar. Like they wanted out of my body and into the wilderness to frolic with the nymphs and fauns. To relish in a kind of hippie freedom body did not possess though this girl made want to happen.

I walked to her vicinity and she gave me a smile that was at one moment welcoming and the next frightful. Her eyes held a sparkle unlike any human that I had seen before. The sparkle held a kind of sensuality that was not meant for me, though I saw it and I needed it and did not want it at the same time. It made my stomach growl then yearn then growl then yearn like I couldn’t decide if I were hungry or sick or just needed to shit.

I spoke first because I was in yearn mode and when I spoke it came out like a nervous twelve year-old in the peak of puberty.

“Hi…I’m Alise…but not like you think…ya know spelled different…with a ‘S’ instead of a ‘C’…ya know strange semi-tree hugging parents and all,” I was a freaking mess and I’m not even a lesbian but this girl was making me weak in the knees but not really cause there was that sense of sickening dread that hung above me.

She stared at me as if I were the strangest person that she had ever met and from the way I was rambling I was making that a true statement.

“So…ya know I saw you and haven’t seen anyone say anything to you and I was wondering, are you here with anyone or just hanging cause ya know I like to hang and shit and I was a little nerv about approaching you cause ya know I’m not a lez or anything you just seem a little interesting but also a little scary and I know I’m just rambling on like a crazy person but I’m curious and I just want to know…ya know…what are you drinking?”

After the insanity that I spewed forth upon her she spoke and it sent shivers down my spine and it shouldn’t have, for all that she said was: “Water”

“Water…that’s basic.”

The girl smiled and it was a smile met with my confusion. There was a mystery to be told in that smile. A mystery that would reveal itself after she brought me to her house. That house…well…I’m jumping ahead, there’s more to this story than just a house.

“For someone who is a self -proclaimed non-lesbian, your nervousness is questionable.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry about. There’s not a thing you could’ve done about it.”

“Is it your fault? I’m confused.”

“It’s nobody’s fault that I have a way about me that interests you. It’s who I am and there’s nothing either of us could do about it.”

“You could get a facelift.”

“I can guarantee you that it is not my face that brought you over here to me. I know and you know it’s…”

“Your eyes.”

“My eyes…they’ve caused many a men to do many a thing.”

“Like what?”

“You want to sit down? Come with me, let’s get out of this noise pollution.”


And I followed her like a lost puppy that smelled meat in her pockets. Panting and nipping at her heels for what ever she could offer.

We exited the building and began to walk.

“I thought you said sit?”

“A brisk walk will get the blood flowing. We need it after being exposed to all that hostility.”

“If you don’t like it there, why do you go?”

“Who knows. Maybe to find someone to quell my thoughts. Why do you go?”

“Lonely and a little desperate .”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah, well, it comes with being not as endowed as all the other ladies around here.”

“You have a smaller penis,” she said in all seriousness.

“No. Chest wise.”

We continued to walk in silence for what seemed like a mile. She grabbed my hand and turned a corner. Around this corner were tables and chairs and what looked like a deli of some sort that appeared to be closed. She rummaged in her purse, pulling out a set of keys. Selecting one she opened the door and led me into the darkened establishment.

“You work here?”

“I own here.

“It must be nice owning your own business.”

“Some days I feel I could do without. It pays the bills so you gotta make due.”

She walked to the back of the building and I was startled when the room filled with illumination. She came back into the room and I saw her for what seemed like the first time.

She was taller then me by at least three inches. Her hair was a dark red almost maroon and her eyes, those infernal sparkling eyes. They seemed to own a personality for themselves one that conflicted with hers. One that wanted to be free of her body and cause a havoc unseen in millions of years.

Her skin was insanely pale though showed no blue from the veins that entwined her inner self. Her lips were a tender pink, matched by a small upturned nose.

She noticed me looking at her and I must have had a quizzical look on my face for she smiled like she knew I was examining her, like she knew that I was drawn to everything about her except her sex. It wasn’t like that. There was something drawing me to her. Something that wanted me not for pleasure, for a different type of release. One that would end the lives of many. One that would put not only myself, but all I knew, my family and friends and everyone in between in an uncircumcised danger.

It was in these thoughts that I had somehow moved closer to her and pressed my lips upon hers. They were warm and soft and tasted like, of all things, hazelnuts.

After realizing what I was doing I immediately pulled away.

“I’m sorry. That was weird.”

“That’s not something you usually want to here after being kissed.”

“No, not the kiss. The act…I don’t remember moving in for it. Like I was there and then now here but I didn’t walk over or float over…I just was over and attached to you and tasting hazelnuts and being very confused why I am in your deli kissing you at…what…three in the morning when I have work tomorrow…not to mention the fact that I don’t kiss girls…hell or even boys for the past nine months…so what’s going on here?…why am I so attracted to you…not even you…your eyes…those goddamn eyes.”

“Are you through?”

“I assume so.”

“Come upstairs with me.”

“What’s upstairs?”

“ I live here. Not only is it my job it’s also my home.”

It is here where everything comes to a close. Following her up those stairs was probably the biggest mistake of my life. Everything would’ve been so much better for the world if I just left after the weird kissing thing. But I’m dumb. What can I say.

We ascended two flights of stairs before reaching a door that was easily opened with a quick turn of the knob. I entered first then she followed closing the door behind us. A light came on and I jumped. She put a hand on my shoulder.

“There’s no reason to be scared. I’m not going to eat you.”

“That’s not really funny given the kiss mishap.”

“What’s that?”

“It was a joke. Double entendre…never mind.”

“Have a seat I’ll be right back.”


I sat on a big brown comfy as hell couch. Putting my feet up and nearly falling asleep when she walked back into the room wearing a Slayer t-shirt and a pair of grey shorts.

“I was very uncomfortable in that dress. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, I’m fairly comfortable.”


She reached in a drawer and pulled out what looked like newspapers. Not recent newspapers, no these were yellowed with age and seemed brittle in her small hands.

She flipped through a couple stopping and handing it to me.

“There’s an article on page six. Read it then look closely at the picture. After, look at the date it was published.”

I turned to page six and read a story of a doctor who was making headway in the infant mortality rates among teenage mothers. It was a blah story so I skipped a bunch. I then looked at the photo. It was of the doctor and some nurses I think, they were standing in front of a building that sort of looked like an old house. I didn’t see anything until I looked in the upper right window of the house and saw those eyes. I immediately looked at her. She was smiling. I then flipped to the front page and saw the date: April 16, 1917.

“This is some kind of fucking prank you’re pulling. How much did it cost you to print up a fake newspaper? Is it worth it?”

“Look at me, closely. Look into my eyes and tell me if I’m the sort of person who has a sense of humor.”

It was then too late to do anything about the man who had somehow snuck beside me. He grabbed me around the neck and squeezed until I passed out.



I must’ve been asleep when they brought the girl into the room. It was still dark so I couldn’t see her well but from what I could tell she was very small like a mouse might be if it were people size.

She slept for hours and I watched every minute , cause when you are being held against your will there isn’t much to do to pass time.

I fell asleep for a while and when I awoke the girl was still in slumber. A faint light decided to illuminate a corner of the room spreading it’s glory upon the girl’s foot and most of her leg, which was twitching violently. Her dreams must’ve started. The last guy that was here told me of the dreams. Of their violence. I would ask about his shakes at night and he told me of the blood and ripping of flesh that followed with being devoured brain first.

It was after the telling of those dreams the the guy never returned. It wasn’t the first time someone hadn’t returned. In the time that I have been here, if I remember right I think it has been twelve (the new girl makes thirteen, though she hasn’t disappeared yet) that have come and gone. Some have talked. Some only sat in the corner and whimpered.

This new one though, she sleeps nonstop, unless she awakens when I sleep, for that I cannot tell. I would think her dead if it were not for the twitches and occasional grunt.

Last night I tried to touch her. To feel if she were alive or like my captor. I sensed the former for she hadn’t tried to eat me as of yet.

This morning I awoke to words. Human words.

“Hello…are you alive?”

The girl was finally awake and trying to reach out to me. All I could muster was a beleaguered, “Shhhh…”.

“Why? Why can’t I speak to you?”

Quietly I say, “She takes the ones that speak.”

“Takes them where? Downstairs for a sandwich?”

“That could be true.”

“Wha…Who are you? What’s going on?”

I had to think about the “who am I”. I couldn’t remember outright.

“I’m Joseph and that’s pretty much it. I don’t remember much else.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Through twelve of you. I’m not sure how long that is time wise. I only see the light a few times and cannot remember what the day is. I don’t know how many have passed me by.”

“None of the others told you what day it was.”

“The others were too scared to talk. With good reason. If you talk you go away. You should be scared. Nothing good comes of this.”

“I might be scared if I knew what to be scared of. Besides if those who talk go away, why are you still here?”

I take in a deep breath.

“They’ve done things to me. Before…before the others they put stuff inside me. Liquids that made my eyes burn, made my skin cold then warm again. I hardly hunger. When I do I am quickly fed by the captor. She knows without my telling. She’ll know we spoke and you’ll go away.”

“What is she? I saw in here eyes. She’s not normal anymore, if she ever was. When I kissed her I tasted hazelnut…”

“You kissed her?”

“Not on purpose. She had some hold over me. One second I was standing five feet away from her the next we were locking lips.”

I sit there and contemplate if I should tell her the things I know. Should I warn her of her demise. That it was all a glamor to lure her here to be eaten? That in a matter of time the man will be here and take her away to never be heard from again? I sit and think about it and come to the conclusion that I shouldn’t worry her about what is to come. That it’d only cause unwanted stress.

I sit and tell her that I’m am growing tired and need to rest. I lay down and close my eyes and wonder what she tastes like.


It felt like Joseph was hiding something the entire time he spoke. It was kind of the same feeling I got from the girl just not as strong. But I ignored and was relieved to hear that he was tired and I’d be left alone. I needed to think and find a way out, no matter how unfeasible that may have been in reality. For the truth is, is that I didn’t make it out. No I was carried off by the headlock man and taken to a room and strapped to a table that was occupied by the girl. Her eyes were glowing with malice and a hunger grew upon her lips, quivering as she drew nearer. I concluded that my end was growing close and that statement rang true when the girl bared her teeth, stepped to the end of the table that my head rested on and came down upon my scalp with a bone crunching force that was far from human. The act that followed was a pain unlike anything felt before, though it only lasted the duration of her opening my cranium for once the consumption of my brain took main stage I only felt a numbness, then a blackness, then nothing at all.


My whole reasoning for luring the girl was to eat her. I had that planned from the second I saw her dancing like a chicken in that incredulous bar.

It wasn’t until after the kiss that I felt something about her. There was something different that I had to have. I had to taste what it was inside her that could sense the difference in me. She knew there was something about me and it wasn’t just the glamor I set upon her. She could sense my state of death. It was obvious in the way she laid eyes on me. I saw it there in her eyes as Munt was strangling her into unconsciousness.

A shimmer. A glow of unknown abyss that was once a marker for a world we all know.

It was all trickery. A shining light reflecting from her glassy pupil.

All in all it turned out to be nothing. Nothing of importance to me anyway. I thought I had found something new. Something to prey upon, to have linger in my abode to dine on as I wish. It was false advertisement.

As I broke through her skull I knew immediately that what I yearned to revel in was nothing more that humanity. Something I have forgotten since being born of this undead state.

I had been human many years ago. The doctor who turned me was the epitome of evil. He had no intention of ridding us of our ailment. I had lost two children by the age of nineteen. Doctor Rorks made promises to lure us into his hell house.

I had shown the article to the girl to see if I could get a reaction in her eyes. To see if what was hiding would pronounce itself to me. It was to no avail so I let Munt do his work to allow me to taste for myself.

She was not as delicious as she looked. Maybe it was the hope of grander things that made the taste so bland. Maybe it was the incessant humanity that spewed forth into my mouth and down my gullet that spoiled the experience.

My hope became sadness as the mystery became another meal that I engulfed and threw away.


These creatures were never a part of some underlying plan. They were a product of circumstance. Of a brilliant mind pushed too far over the edge of sanity that evil seeped in and took control.

I watched as the doctor betrayed the girls trust only to entreat their bodies to that septic sludge. I as watched their contorted faces screaming for anyone to save them. The days they were fed human remains, the flesh and blood giving them, I wouldn’t call it a new life…a kind of life after death. Their skin changed from the peach/tan hue of a healthy human girl to this pale, absence of vein (for their skin seemed transparent though nothing could be seen through it’s pearly white) presence of death.

As I stood and watched this horrid, monstrous abomination against humanity take place I felt deep inside that I should do something. I would say to myself, “Peter, get off your lazy ass and stop this mess.” But I couldn’t. My legs would not move for fear of death or worse…to be eaten alive by one of those…things.

It wasn’t until my interaction with them that I realized that they are still human. They can think and function as a human, it’s just that whatever the doctor pumped them full of has altered their genetics so that their bodies require the rejuvenating qualities of the neurites and dendrites found in the human brain. They do not need to eat often, only after their body uses all the resources it has stored that they must feast.

I came upon her on accident. She was sitting on a couch in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. She was beautiful in a unique way. Her pale skin seem to glimmer in the florescent lights, in her eyes was a magic that drew me forward. I sat next to her.

“Good morning,” I said.


“These rooms are for the birds. They know we have to come and that they can make us wait as long as they wish, cause you know, where else are we going to go?”

She turned to me and gave a hint of a smile.

“Also, who knows what these people have, I mean look at that one. He looks two steps from death…”

“He is, he comes every week hoping that a different test will give him different results. It’s sad if you ask me. Why can’t he just accept his fate. Death isn’t as bad as you may think.”

“Are you talking about Heaven?”

“There is no Heaven, it’s a pipe dream created by desperate people who hope for a reason for their short little lives.”

“You know this for sure.”

“I do.”

“How is it that a young thing like you could possibly know about Heaven?”

“If I told you anything about me, you would not believe. You’d take me for a crazy person. For what I am is not supposed to be. I’m nothing you’ve ever known before.”

“Really? So what are you?”

“I can’t tell you. Not here. He has ears all over this place.”

“He? The doctor?”

“Yes, look I’ll tell you everything, just…follow me.”

We walked around the doctor’s office and came to a two story house. We entered, climbed a staircase, and entered a room full of death.

Inside the room were five cages and in each was a girl no older than twenty. It was in this room that I saw the feedings, the administration of the vacuous fluid. It was in this room that two days later I was feed upon myself. They played a needless game of showing me their secrets only to have me fall to the same fate as the many others that came through that room.

On the day I died I was chained to the floor. Three of the zombie girls were let inside as was a giant man they called Munt. He was the first to reach me. He violently shaved my head then left the room. I was left to be feed upon, which happened quickly and violently. The pain subsided after the first bite into my brain. My life ended after the fourth.


Three days after I fed on Alise I’d begun to realize the true reason I was so drawn to her. The fact of it all is that I really was drawn to her humanity. The same way she was drawn to mystery that resided in my eyes. We were both looking for that thing we yearned for. A way out of the lives we were living. I was looking for the humanity that I had experienced with Peter on those two days he shared with me in 1983. Alise was looking for a way to liven up her dull insignificant life.

It is this humanity I seek that leads to what is now my demise. Tonight I am giving up on this violent existence. I am sacrificing myself to the other girls, if they’ll have me, for I offer no nourishment. My brain does not consist of what they need to live. No matter what I’ll lay there until cease to exist from the mouths of my kind or from the lack of nutrition. Either way I’ll be at peace for once in my life.