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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| It’s been a couple days, but I finally got my roommates to talk to me again. They say it’s my fault and it was mean. In a way, I can see how. As I’m sure you know by now, I’m the type of guy who will pick up a lost kitten on the street and take it home. I can’t just pat it on the head or step over it and ignore it. That’s the way I see a lot of these zombies. They’re lost undead kittens. No homes to speak of, no living friends they know or family they even remember. They’re just lost, wandering towards a central location in a grand celebration / gathering to remember who they were. I can’t just ignore them. Zack wanted McDonalds. I don’t mind McDonalds, and he didn’t want to drive, so he agreed to buy if I agreed to fly. Sean decided he was bored and asked to come which didn’t bother either one of us any. The trip over to the restaurant was filled with the usual jokes and chatter that’s shared amongst roommates. Sean teased me about my grannie car, I teased him back about his hair. Zack tried to join in, things like that. I have a thing about eating inside a restaurant. I don’t mind a drive thru but damn it, if I’m buying the food from a place I’d rather just eat it there than try to eat it and drive at the same time. I know, I’m in the minority, but to me It’s a more pleasurable experience to eat inside a place. Yes, even with greasy, salt covered tables, screaming kids, and a line about a mile long in front of the register. Besides, there’s no eating inside the Topaz. Everyone knows that. After a fine meal of cheeseburgers and half cold fries, we went back to my car. Or as Sean calls her “grandma.” Standing outside of my car was two zombies. The Mercury Topaz is not a large automobile by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, Crash has compared it repeatedly to a compact car he could fit inside his glovebox. Which meant that either I was going to abandon two zombies here, or my roommates were about to get up close and personal with the undead. “Shit,” I grumbled. “Dude, you’re not seriously thinking of giving a ride to those things,” he asked. “Look at them! They’re like lost puppies or something,” I waved an arm in their direction. I swear the zombies looked at Sean and Zack then with as much sorrow as they could muster. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had started sprinkling fake snow over themselves. “If you let them in your car, I will seriously lose my lunch,” Zack said. “Well, it’s only to the cemetery, I know where they’re going. It won’t take long, I promise!” Sean and Zack looked at each other, a message was communicated in a single glance. Then, they cried “Shotgun!” in unison. It was too close for me to call, so they played paper, rock, scissors. Sean won. “Oh, great,” Zack groaned as we all started climbing in the car. “Oh no, deadites ride together,” Zack shouted, pointing at one who tried to get in on his side. The two zombies in question looked like a younger couple, who appeared to have the wounds of a traffic accident of some kind. I’m guessing it was a closed casket funeral. Their faces took the brunt of the damage. Green mottled skin, and maggots completed the look. They road next to each other, like a young couple unsure if what they were doing were the right thing, even though they must have been in their forties when they died. Sean rode with his head almost out the window. Zack was crammed against the door. “You’ve got to stop giving them rides,” he shouted. “This is gross!” It wasn’t a long ride back to the house, and I didn’t have to take the back roads and hit every bump on the way, or drop the zombies off first. In fact, it would have been a nice gesture to take the smooth, shorter path and drop off Zack and Sean first. It also would have been a very mean thing to stop in front of the cemetery, open the car door for the zombies, and accidentally shove them against Zack so they touch him and have to lean on him for balance. I’m not saying that’s exactly what happened. I’m just saying that sometimes I’m not a nice guy. “oh God, I can feel their skin sliding around on their flesh,” Zack cried as he threw open the door and bailed out of the car. He leaned against the side of the road, dry heaving as another zombie walked up and tried to help him up. With a banshee cry that sounded part Xena: Warrior Princess, part scared school girl who saw a rat, he jumped and rolled over the trunk of my Topaz, then began pointing and shouting gibberish. Finally, he settled on “No! No! Bad zombie!” All of this of course had the soundtrack of my laughter. As I slowly petered out Zack glared at me. “You’re an asshole,” he growled, then sat in the car and slammed the door. “Yeah, dude. Not Cool,” Sean cried then sat back down in the car. I dunno. I thought it was pretty funny. Of course, I didn’t tell them that. Instead, I looked over at the zombie who tried to help Zack up, who looked genuinely hurt. “It’s okay,” I said. “I appreciate the effort. Zack has a phobia.” I told him. The zombie nodded as if he understood, then peered through the window and waved. Zack crossed his arms in front of him, and glared at the back of my seat. He looked like a giant kid who was just told he couldn’t have ice cream for dinner. By now the dead couple had sauntered around the car and over to the cemetery. I don’t pretend to understand what they’re doing or what purpose they serve. But the cemetery did look as if it was more…I don’t know if alive is the right word, but cared for. As if they were starting to work on the upkeep for it or something. There was less vines and leaves over some of the old tombstones. The tombstones themselves appeared to be cleaned and almost legible even. I’m not certain what the zombies are doing, but I’m sure someone out there knows. I’d be glad if they’d tell me. So, yeah. I had silence from the roommates for a couple days. Then Zack gave me a new nickname: Undead Uber. “Very funny,” I said, “but I think there’s already an audio book series out there with that name.” So far, at least where Zack and Sean are concerned, the name is sticking. Crash isn’t picking it up, though. He says, and I quote “I’m staying out of this.” I’m glad he is. Halloween is literally right around the corner, and I’ll be glad when it gets here, and this whole undead thing is done for another year. |
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