2019-10-31 - Taste

The humming of the song starts, and Zoiya Mae struts out on to stage, her eyes flitting around at the crowd seated at the rails. Something is off, but the pull of the music makes her start to move, her hand on the pole as she shakes her hips. There is a dull cheer from the crowd as she starts to move, and that draws her gaze again. The bright lights at the edge of the stage don't allow her for a very good look at who is sitting at the rails tonight.

The gems sewn into her costume glitter mutely in the sweeping lights that surround the stage as she walks slowly toward the men seated at the rail.

The words of the song hit her as as she eases down on her knees to crawl toward a man holding out a folded bill.

All my cravings come at me
This ain't love, it's sacrifice
Oh my God, I can't behave
The worse they are, the better they taste..

She shifts near the rail, posing prettily, the diaphanous material of her costume framing her body rather than concealing it. She makes eye contact, and the rotting flesh of patron makes her draw in a startled breath. Her hazel eyes follow his hand as he carefully slides the twenty under the material. It takes everything in her not to flinch away from the contact.

She plants her bare feet on the ground, sliding herself back away from the man, her eyes sweeping the room to make eye contact with a bouncer. She doesn't break routine yet.

The music pulls at her, and she gets to her feet, finally seeing a bouncer in the crowd. The lights of the club flash over his face, and she sees rotted flesh there as well.

She should be running, but something keeps her on the stage. Her arms rise over her head, and her body moves with the beat. Her hips sway from side to side, following the music, her hair flying around her as she turns to shake her ass for the crowd. It hits her as her head tilts back. She's hungry. A dull pain shoots through her mouth as she watches one of the patrons climb up on the stage, looking like he's trying to flee.

Got a big appetite
If I look then I touch then it's already over
I wish I could just take a bite
So I do, I don't think I can sink any lower

It takes everything in her to fight the urge to move forward and wrap her arms around the man. He looks frightened, his wide eyes appealing to her as she considers where she should sink her teeth. What pulse point will get her the most blood, where can she rip the most flesh. Her hesitation is another zombie's reward. The man is pulled from the stage, and soon he's lost in a crowd, the gurgling screams cut off all too suddenly.

The cheer goes up in the crowd again, and she keeps moving, wondering why they're not rushing the stage. She doesn't want to run, she isn't afraid.

Mae's hands grasp at the see through costume, turning to strut toward the pole. She sees the people at the bar, they're all rotted, but they don't want her. Some of them are in surprisingly good condition, and then you have a few that look like they've been through the ringer. Some are missing limbs, others are bloody and torn up in other places.

They are surprisingly well behaved with each other, she watches them stand side by side, no violence unless someone with blood comes near. Why aren't they climbing up on the stage?

Her bare feet squeak as she continues to dance.

Every tomorrow, I wake up and pray I won't be
'Caught in the sugar, your sour, your salty, your sweet
I'm starving, so give it to me
You know the worse they are, the better they'll be

Her eyes shift down to her body, and it suddenly hits her why she's not being attacked. She's one of them. Her flesh is a dull and it looks as if she's seen better days. She realizes that she can move now, run away, or she can continue to enjoy the song. Her eyes scan the club for someone who doesn't belong, someone warm.

The doors open, someone is coming into the club.

The lighting in the club is dim, and the men who are entering the club clearly don't realize what they've walked into. They're drunk from the last bar they were at, wearing suits, clapping each other on the back. They clearly came here with a purpose. One of the men is wearing a sign that says he's the 'bachelor' of the night. They stumble to the bar, order drinks, not realizing that they're being watched like they're a meal. Drool drips from the mouths of some of the zombie standing closer to the stage. Mae keeps dancing, her movements exaggerated to draw the men closer.

Two of the men approach the stage, digging tips out of their pockets. They realize the danger just a split second too late.

One little bite couldn't hurt, right?
I'ma get what I deserve, right?
I'm done with playing it safe
You know the worse they are, the better they taste

When one of the men get closer to the stage, Mae is upon him. He manages one scream that is cut off with a gurgle. Once he's bleeding, the others swarm the rest of the group. They don't last long after that. Though, their screams ring out for a few brief minutes.

Eating someone alive takes time.

Mae wakes up, she's in her bed at home, everything seems.. fine. Limbs are all accounted for, and she seems supple and not dead. Always a bonus.

Something makes her cough, and she grimaces, reaching into her mouth where she fishes out a small torn piece of fabric, there are dots of blood on it. She stares down at her hand for a few beats, eyes narrowed. That was just a dream, wasn't it? She gets to her feet, tugs on a t-shirt and pads out toward the kitchen. Everything still seems fine.

She leans in, drops the fabric in the garbage.

Nobody else needs to mention this ever again, right? It was just a nightmare.