My Soul to Reap (Archived)

Night Of The Dead Bodies

"What do you mean they're zombies?" They were shuffling closer, sure, but they were no zombies. Their flesh wasn't hanging off their bones and there was no guttural groaning of "brains...". In fact, they all seemed very much alive. Brie had a different idea.

"Just what I said," she shot back, swinging the sharpened weapon in a slow arc. I jumped backwards, having momentarily forgotten about it, but there was no need. The staff swirled around her fingers effortlessly, and it seemed like if it was that easy to move than there was no way it could do much damage. I looked closer at the six people, unable to make out much in the night's gloom. There was the man and the schoolgirl, but also three men who looked like they'd just stepped off wall street. The last silent approacher was was young women, probably in her late twenties, dressed in a nurse's uniform. Again, no sign of death and decay.

"They do not look like zombies." I was being adamant, because there was no way I could deny a weapon growing out of gold when I watched it happen. Zombies, on the other hand, I could still deny.

"That's because humanity has bastardized what zombies actually are." She was trying to be patient, but I could tell it was wearing thin. Her grip on the smooth metal was tightening, adjusting, and she flicked it out the the side. The blade moved like it was on a hinge, bending to make the weapon almost a straight line. She took two quick steps forwards and turned, sweeping the scythe across the homeless man's chest. I took a few dazed steps backwards. The blade cut easily, leaving no blood or carnage. There was only a singular slice through the fabric of his shirt, but he fell anyways. Brie practically danced through the other people, the gold a never-stopping blur in circles and arcs. The reaction time had been slow but the people eventually realized what was happening, and turned on her. But Brie was way, way too fast. I could barely keep track of her movements as the people feel around her, and she easily stepped clear of the carnage. The young girl fell last, probably younger than me, and my heart twisted uncomfortably. It didn't help that I wasn't entirely sure if they were even zombies. It was all too confusing, and everything was happening so quickly.

"Are they dead?" I asked quietly. After all, there wasn't any blood. A small flicker of hope swelled inside me. But the condescending look I got from Brie was enough to assure me the hope was unfounded. She twirled the scythe a few times in her hand and it returned to its original shape, the blade that had just killed six people arching over her head. I swallowed hard.

"Then you killed them." It was painfully obvious that I was standing near a group of corpses, in the middle of the night, with the girl who had made them. But she shook her head.

"They were dead the second a shaman got a hold of them." She turned and brushed past me, strutting with more confidence than I'd ever seen anyone walk. I stumbled stupidly after her. She threw the scythe in the air and I winced, stopping to avoid getting hit. But it reformed in mid-air, landing perfectly on her outstretched wrist. She kept walking, and I suddenly remembered I could talk.

"Shamans? What? I thought you were supposed to collect souls, not kill zombies!" She sighed, leading me away from the house and out on to the street. I was trying my best to accept things as they came, because the proof was overwhelming.

"Yes, shamans. What, did you actually think some virus could re-animate a corpse?" She tutted, and I was trying to process everything. For the moment, I guessed, I was safe from dying for the second time.

"So, the shaman reanimates the corpse?" She threw me a sidelong glance.

"The shaman puts them in a coma, and at that point they lose any individual thought." She huffed out a word in a language I didn't understand, but was probably an insult. It was impossible to tell what time it was, but the moon was hanging as a sliver in the sky. The party must have broken up, and the suburban street was silent except for us.