Dr. Randal looked up from his desk. He took in the sight of Jack calmly; Torn clothes, blood dripping from his right eye. Slightly decomposed skin.
"Good morning," Dr. Randal said politely.
"Morning, Doc. I'm Jack."
"Yes, of course. Have a seat, Jack."
Jack turned and slowly sat down on a very new looking couch. He sat slightly crooked, doing his best to keep stray blood from dripping onto the cushion.
Dr, Randal sat opposite him with a clip board in his lap, and a pen in his right hand. "How are you feeling today, Jack?" Dr. Randal asked, the perfect picture of professionalism.
"I'm...doing ok," Jack said haltingly. "I've been better."
"Let's catch up," Dr. Randal said calmly. "Start at the beginning. what's your story?"
"Well," Jack looked toward the ceiling, trying to decide just how complete a story he wanted to get into. "I was dead, you see."
"Mm hm."
"I was dead and buried, and, you know, I didn't know any better. Then I - well, several of us, it turns out - were re-animated because of, I don't know, some swamp gas or something."
"I imagine," Dr, Randal interjected, "that this came as something of a surprise."
"Oh, man, tell me about it. I mean, I was decomposing. Look at this shoulder." Jack pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose some badly decompose shoulder muscle. "I was dead and buried, being eaten by rats, you know, and suddenly a bunch of us are awake again, sticking hands up out of the ground, climbing back up here to the living world."
"Wow!" said Dr. Randal. "Then what happened?"
Jack dropped his head down slightly. He paused before lifting it and continuing. "I - we - ran into this group of people. They were scared of us. I was trying to reassure everyone that we meant no harm...then it happened."
"What happened?" Dr. Randal asked, jotting something down on his paper.
"This one guy," Jack said hesitatingly. "He seemed like a nice guy. He was willing to give us all a chance. But... then..."
Dr. Randal looked reassuringly toward Jack. "It's alright," he said. "This is a safe space. We don't pass judgement here. Tell me what happened."
"I - uh - I ate his brain."
Jack looked down and shook his head.
Dr. Randal noted something on his paper, then looked up. "Is this the only time?"
"No," Jack said. "That was just the first time. I don't understand it. I know it's wrong, but then I find myself face to face with some screaming human - uh, mean, living, normal living human, and it's the only thought in my head."
"What's the only thought in your head?:
"Brains! Eating brains."
"Let's start," Dr. Randal said soothingly, "with the good news. You're here. You're seeking help. You've come to the right place."
"Can you cure me?" Jack asked hopefully. "Can you cure me of eating brains?"
Twenty minutes later Dr. Randal was dead, his brain dripping in disgusting morsels from Jack's mouth.
Jack ran. He ran out the door and away, just away. Where to?
Only fate would know.
Poor Jack. Someday! Someday, zombies will find their way in society.
Someday...
Peter Wick
October 14, 2024
