2019-07-03 - Z is for Zombie

Dahlia was laying on the couch in the living room watching ‘Wheel of Fortune’. It was late and she should probably be sleeping but sleep was currently eluding her. She hated this trailer. It creaked and groaned and it was impossible to do anything quietly. Every now and then her gaze drifted towards the door to her mother’s bedroom. Raspy, wheezing like noises could be heard faintly now and again. The treatments weren’t working. She didn’t care what the doctors said. Those noises had scared the hell out of her when she first came back to town. Thinking her mother really was about to die. Now though, they didn’t phase her. Back to Wheel of Fortune instead.

THUD.

Dahlia sat up quickly. Had that come from her mother’s room? It had to have, there was no other-CRASH. What the fuck was going on? “Mom?” She called out, hopping off the couch. “Mom are you okay?” Making her way down the tiny hallway towards the door. As Dahlia was reaching for the door she heard the strangest noises. Growling, snarling sort of noises. She yanked the door open and for a split second there was a pause. A moment where her brain wasn’t quite believing what her eyes were seeing. A moment of trying to comprehend what was happening.

Her mother was at the far end of the room. Not that the room was all that big. She had turned quickly towards Dahlia when the door opened. Her eyes were white and black spidery veins were crawling all over her skin. Skin that seemed to be starting to sag. It was an impossibility. Then the moment was over, her mother lunged in Dahlia’s direction which prompted Dahlia to let out a scream. She didn’t know what was going on but this thing couldn’t be her mother. She stumbled backwards as she tried to turn around. She could hear the thing behind her - it was a small trailer, Dahlia had to be quick if she wanted to keep any kind of distance.

She made a beeline to the front door, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. Somehow locked from the outside? Or maybe something was blocking it. Another growling snarl and the sound of a lamp being turned over. Oh dear lord. Dahlia could practically feel the nightmare thing behind her. She was trapped. Unless maybe...Dahlia turned and hurried towards the kitchen just as cold fingers and sharp nails grazed against her arm. She hopped on to the kitchen table with all it’s papery mess, screaming again as she tried to yank the window open. Locked. Jesus Christ.

That deathly cold grip grabbed her foot and Dahlia kicked out with her other on instinct. It landed, but didn’t help. She really didn’t want to turn but she had to. Dahlia quickly tried to maneuver so she could properly aim a kick. Instead she was frozen in fear. The thing that most definitely wasn’t her mother now truly looked like a proper monster. Skin discoloration and decay, skin hanging, exposing bits of skull. White eyes bulging. It lunged at her again, teeth teeth tearing into her shoulder blade with an inhumanely strong force.

“HELP! Help!” She screamed to no one, because, who was going to help her? The pain wasn’t felt immediately, likely due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was not going to die tonight. With her uninjured arm she punched the gross, fleshy face of the thing and the tried kicking it again. Shifting her weight so they would roll to the floor. She punched it one more time, scrambling backward and to her feet as it snarled out. The shotgun. She raced back to her mother’s bedroom, grabbing the loaded shotgun and readying it.

The thing was coming after her again. She had to shoot it. Dahlia knew that. But this...this thing was her mother too wasn’t it? Where was her mother? It was closing in fast. Dahlia pulled the trigger. The shotgun shell tore through the things face. It stopped, wavered, and then dropped face down onto the floor. Inky black blood oozing. Brain matter splattering the hallway.

Dahlia started to shake, tears falling and the pain in her arm suddenly hitting her like a truck. She sunk her her knees in front of the dead thing that now just...looked like her mother. No sagging flesh or exposed bones or discoloration aside from the shotgun blast. “Oh god, oh my god, mom. Mom! I’m sorry, I-I-oh god.” Dahlia just started sobbing, leaning against the wall and likely getting blood on it.

~-~-~-

Dahlia woke up with a start, and a searing pain in her left arm that caused her to let out a strangled cry. The television was still on, a rerun of The Walking Dead playing. Ironic. Her arm felt extremely stiff and sore...and there was blood staining the afghan that was covering her. But...it had just been a dream hadn’t it? A horrible, terrible nightmare? Slowly, Dahlia started to lift the blanket with her uninjured arm. No, those were definitely teeth marks...and she looked like she needed stitches. It was a miracle she wasn’t bleeding out. She had so many concerning questions and no answers that passed any logical tests.

Despite the pain though, Dahlia was up like a shot. Running towards her mother’s room and inside. She froze. Her mother was there, looking normal...well not entirely. She looked...blue. Dahlia hesitated, slowly advancing. No rise and fall of her chest. Dahlia didn’t want to believe it. Reaching out she carefully touched her mother’s cheek. Ice cold.

Dahlia sank on to the bed, feeling the tears welling up and letting them spill over. Her mother was gone. Barely two weeks after Dahlia had come up here...over just like that. She couldn’t help but somehow feel responsible. Had something happened last night while she slept? Could she have somehow prevented this? Had Dahlia even really told her mother she’d loved her recently? Should she have listened to the doctors about the experimental treatment? Who cared if it would probably bankrupt them. Maybe her mother would be alive.

It’s uncertain how long Dahlia sat there on the side of the bed, just letting out all the pent up emotions she’d been feeling. Once her tears were finally under control, Dahlia drug herself back to the livingroom to find her phone.

A pleasant-sounding woman’s voice came over the line. “911 What’s your emergency?”

Dahlia swallowed hard, trying to find her words. “My m-m-mother’s dead a-and I think I was at-attacked.” Though she had no idea how she was going to explain that one. A minute later she was hanging up and went into the bathroom to try and clean up the dried blood caked on her shoulder. How was it even possible? Was it some sort of animal that sneaked in during the night? But if so, how come she didn’t wake up as it was happening? And how come the teeth looked so...human?

It was a slow process but Dahlia got it cleaned up as best she could before going outside to sit on the front steps and await the arrival of the police. This was going to be long, painful day.