A Very Zombie Christmas

I decided to write a Christmas story for my wife. This is the best I could do. I wrote it in about 40 minutes and did no editing. I make no claims to greatness but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it.

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A Very Zombie Christmas

I watched the zombie drag itself towards the Brook’s house. It was leaving a trail of blood on the ground behind it. It left me both repulsed and hungry. The change had left me stranded in time. It was either day or night. Time to eat or not time time to eat. Very little else mattered.

I was trying to hold onto my former life but it was slipping away. Everyday I became less than me. I was supposedly one of the lucky ones. I could still communicate. I hadn’t lost my ability to talk. I knew it was coming. It came for all of us. The moment when our last vestige of humanity slipped away.

I spent the first few days after the change mad at the world, mad at god. My anger slowly turned towards people. The people who had abandoned me. The people who cursed me and wanted me dead. My life as a zombie was a simple one. Find food, hide, find more food.

There were more of us than ever. Our plague spread across the land with every bite. I knew at some point there would only be us. It troubled me. Some part of me didn’t want to see humanity extinguished. Another part of me wondered what I would eat. I had tried zombie and frankly it was disgusting.

I walked up slowly behind the zombie. It heard me coming and slowly turned around. Half of its face was missing. The left eyeball was hanging down on its cheek. It had no flesh around the jawline, exposing a set of smashed and broken teeth. The teeth made me chuckle. I had always wondered about zombies that chomped on skulls and ate brains. It was in almost every movie I saw as a kid. It wasn’t very practical though. Skulls broke teeth. I preferred to go for the soft tissue or use my axe. Those of us who could still think were easy to spot, we carried our tools with us.

The zombie let out a low moan. It followed this by a completely incomprehensible string of vowels and consonants. It was like listening to a baby talk.

“Use your big words.”

The zombie began to grunt and a thin line of drool leaked out and down the front of its shirt. This guy was in bad shape. I didn’t know why he had ventured into my old neighborhood but I couldn’t have him wandering around. Even if he was heading towards the Brook’s house. They were bastards, I should probably just let this thing in.

“No words left huh. You look famished. When was the last time you ate?”

It was silly to talk to it. I don’t even think it had a tongue left. I lifted up my axe and brought it swiftly down into the zombie’s chest. The swing caused my Santa’s hat to fall off my head. The axe struck with a loud thunk and sunk deep into the unfortunate corpse. I swung several more times before I was satisfied it wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. I leaned down and picked up the hat, pulling it snugly back onto my head.

I turned and walked slowly towards my house. It had been a long time since I had been here. Last year there would have been lights everywhere and a giant air filled snowman in the front yard. Jenna loved Christmas. Every year at Thanksgiving their house would become an explosion of holiday spirit. Our whole garage was filled with Christmas decorations.

This year the house was dark and looked abandoned. I knew it wasn’t. I had seen them in it earlier. They were alive and would stay alive as long as I had anything to say about it. I tried the front door but it was locked. I pulled out my keys and let myself in.

My face broke out in a wide grin. The house was covered in decorations. Jenna had not let the plague stifle her Christmas cheer. I could see the fake Christmas tree sitting in the corner with a small stand next to it. I had hated the fake tree but Jenna had insisted it was more practical than a real tree.

I walked up to the stand and could see the cup of water with a small plate of cookies. My heart swelled up in joy. Not even zombies could stop Jenna. I reached out and grabbed one of the cookies. One small bite and then I would put it back.

“Santa?”

The voice was tiny and sweet. I was afraid to look. I hadn’t been this close to my daughter since the change. I was suddenly filled with doubt. Why did I come here? What did I think I was going to accomplish? Why did I eat the Salvation Army guy and steal his Santa suit?

“Santa, is that you?” asked Holly.

I turned to face my daughter. She looked as beautiful as I remembered her. I would have cried only I seemed to have lost the ability. She stared up at me and her smile slowly changed into a frown. The frown was quickly replaced with a snarl and a blood curdling scream.

“Mom! Mom! Come quick!”

Jenna was there in a heartbeat. She was wearing my favorite nightgown. I loved the way it hugged the curves of her body and showed off her athletic figure. I had been an extremely lucky man when I was amongst the living.

“Mom, dad ate Santa!”

“What are you doing here John?”

“I just wanted to see the two of you.”

“You need to get out John. I can’t have you in here.”

“Jenna, please.”

Jenna slowly lifted her arm up and pointed the shotgun at me. I took a step back. I had seen Jenna shoot before and if she pulled the trigger all that would be left of my head would be a fine mist. I raised up my hands to show her I wasn’t a threat. How I forgot the axe I was holding I will never know. I think your memory must be the first thing to go when you die. The explosion from the shotgun rocked me backwards.

I slammed into the wall and was amazed to realize I was still thinking. I looked at the ground and saw my axe lying at my feet. My arm was still attached to it.

“You shot my arm off!”

“I need you to get out John or I am going to shoot off the other one.”

This had not gone as I planned at all. Nothing ever did anymore. I reached down and picked up my arm and axe. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the arm. I don’t think they can be reattached but you never know.

“Alright I am leaving but I need you to know I still love the both of you.”

“And we love the man you used to be. Now get out.”

I shuffled towards the door and took one last look over my shoulder. They both stood there facing me down fiercely. I knew I would always love them.

“Daddy, you have been very bad. I am sure you are on the naughty list.”

I closed the door and smiled. I was definitely on the naughty list. It’s not my fault I am always hungry. I pulled the axe out of my detached arm’s hand and made my way towards the Brook’s house.

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Cover Design by Michael Hart

About csdaley

C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

6 Responses to “A Very Zombie Christmas”

  1. >A good one man 🙂 I enjoyed reading it 🙂 It's rare to hear a story straight from the Zombie's mouth…you pulled it off excellently.A very Merry Christmas to you :)N

  2. >Loved it. Great zombie Christmas tale.Hope you guys are having a great day.

  3. >you captured love of family and disdain for crappy neighbors wrapped in good gory zombie slime. Merry Christmas!

  4. >Thanks for the comments. I am always nervous posting fiction. My wife is very convincing. 🙂

  5. >Incredibly funny. And sad at the same time. I totally see this like a movie. Also? Jenna is frikkin' hardcore.

  6. hi i loved it great story

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