Love and Brains, the beginning

The Litopia blog, generally, is the home of the writers who call Litopia home. It includes bits from our lives, tips from and for writing, and occasionally just something someone finds interesting.

But, as Litopia is a writers’ colony, occasionally this blog will offer a bit of our writing, fiction or non. In this case, this is part one of a short story from Matt Schofield’s Undead, but Dead Fun series. The story will be completed in a future post. Enjoy.

Love and Brains. Part one

The evening before their death, Carl and Carol stood together in front of the bathroom basin and brushed their teeth, as they had on every night for the 43-years they’d been together. They brushed, he with his left hand, she with her right, so that they could hold hands. She lay her head on his shoulder. He lay his cheek on her head.

After rinsing, they tiptoed across the cold floor of their sixth-floor apartment to the bedroom. Carl slid the heavy chest of drawers in front of the glass balcony door.

Carol tutted.

“Shame, isn’t it? The morning light is so beautiful. Do we really want to live in darkness?”

Carl nodded his head, and smiled.

“You always have been the wiser one, love. What comes, comes.”

Carl shuffled back to bed, positioned his baseball bat next to the bedstand so that the handle would be easily found, if needed. Carol made similar arrangements with her 7-iron.

Then, at the same time, they crawled into bed. As soon as they’d pulled the tie-dye duvet up to their necks and gotten over the momentary shivers, they turned to each other and kissed, three times, a bit longer each time. The first to enjoy the softness of their lips together, then to enjoy the minty toothpaste taste, then to let the other know they were very much loved. Carl fluffed his pillow. Carol then laid her head on Carl’s left shoulder and, in unison, they whispered to each other, “Another perfect day together. Perfect forever.”

“Will this be it?” Carl asked, in the darkness.

“Maybe. Not much we can do about it if it is.”

As they did every night, they fell into a deep, comfy sleep.

Shattering glass from the balcony door announced the arrival of the undead three hours later. Carl and Carol grasped for their weapons, but the shadowy figures lurched more quickly than expected. Before Carol and Carl could get off a single swing, they were trapped under the duvet by the weight of three undead adults, and one child. The attack was ferocious, cold hands gripping and being ripped away, teeth snapping at warm skin. Carl and Carol felt the pain of diseased teeth sinking into their flesh, Carol on her left shoulder, Carl on his right arm.

The ferocity of the attack, though, sent the Zombies crashing off the bed, the duvet now covering them. Carl and Carol in unison raised their weapons and hit the points that certainly represented heads.

Five strong whacks with accompanying sounds of crushing skulls and the duvet ceased to thrash about.

“I believe,” Carol said, “these undead are now actually dead.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Carl laughed.

“Clever, as always,” he said.

Then, together, they added, “Sorry, love, I was bitten.” Despite what that meant, they each had a giggle, and hugged tight. “We’ll be okay, we’re together. Perfect forever.”

They wrapped the bloody duvet around the bodies of the undead and dragged it out of the bedroom.

Then it was back to the bathroom, to carefully wash each other’s wounds.

“I’m afraid the morning will bring changes we’d been hoping to avoid, love.” Carol said.

“It will, but we will face the new world together, as we face everything together,” Carl answered.

“Perfect, forever,” they said, together.

It was either the raging, painful hunger in his belly, or the tugging on his left shoulder and loud, guttural gasp that woke Carl. When his eyes pulled open, he could see Carol, propped up on her elbows, looking down on him, tears somehow running down her graying cheeks and tendrils of flesh leading from her teeth to his shoulder.

“I’m forry, fo forry,” Carol said through her full mouth. She paused to chew, then swallow. “I woke and the hunger was overwhelming, and your shoulder smelled so good and was right there. You always smell so good. You taste so good.”

Carl nodded and thought.

“We knew there would be changes,” he finally said. He ran a blue-ing finger over the wound. His finger lovingly traced the pattern of Carol’s teeth, then went to her mouth and traced them again. “Your little chipmunk teeth took a little bite? I know I should be mad, but it’s really kind of cute.”

“It’s not. It’s awful. I’m a monster.”

“We’re both monsters, aren’t we? You made a mistake. What’s our rule?”

“Everyone makes mistakes, the problem is when you don’t learn from them. Yeah, great. I took a chunk out of you and then while you were looking into my eyes, I swallowed. I think we’re beyond platitudes and aphorisms.”

Carl tried to chuckle, but his throat wasn’t quite as flexible as it had been before he’d been transformed, so it sounded more like a gurgle. He quickly covered his mouth. Carol turned her head to the side and pursed her bloody lips in solidarity.

Part 2 will be posted on here soon. Thanks for reading.