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Letters (A Zombie Tale)
This is a short story done by co-creator of the Chedwick and Sven Comics Mike Savisky. Mike jokingly refers to one of the main characters of this story (Richard) as the brother of Steve. I thought it was awesome so I decided to share it with all of you. Mike is interested in hearing some feedback so let me know what you think. It isn't really Heroscape related other than it includes zombies, I hope that is alright. Anyway, enjoy it, I sure did!
Letters - By Mike Dear Richard, Seeing you shamble through the park after sundown last night in those tattered, blood-drenched jeans made me dizzy. I feel a bit embarrassed writing you like this, but I don’t think I can keep my feelings bottled up. I think I love you, Richard. How long have we known each other? It’s been years, hasn’t it? I remember meeting you first when I was dating Bill Waterworth during our junior year of college. Remember that? I must admit I had a small crush on you even then. Of course, I’ve always thought of us as friends, but ever since you became undead––well, I don’t know, Richard. I find you more attractive than ever before. Please don’t take this the wrong way. You were a magnificent living man. But lately the slur in your speech, the way you sway when you walk, and that irresistible earthy smell––it’s all I can think about. If you feel the same way, please let me know. I’m dying to know what might become of us. Yours truly, Rachael * * * Deer Rachael, Not problem. You not have to be embarrassed. What I mean is I been thinking of you for while now too. You been on my brains, as I think the saying goes? Anyway, I shambling through park at midnight to look for special place to hide collection of maggots I find burrowing into my leg last Tuesday. They my friends. They my only friends in the world I think sometimes. But then I come across family of ducks on they way to the pond and I can’t resist. Rachael, I CANNOT RESIST. They so slow and have skulls so thin. They like walking candy that is also brains. They walk right to my mouth. Now, when I thinks about it, I remember seeing human at edge of park watching Richard. You that was? I thought maybe that was police captain searching for Richard, wanting to quarantine Richard and shoot head with shotgun. My brains hurt now from try to spell quarantine. Ouch. I think reach limit now. I go now. Just find new maggot friend in finger! Isn’t that neat? I name him Squiggles I thinks. * * * Dear Richard, I am so pleased to hear you feel the same way about me. I knew fate had something to do with the frequency of our encounters as of late. I just didn’t know if those lazy, drooling stares were a product of your condition or something more. Now I know they were something much, much more. Oh, you don’t know what kind of agony I put myself through. Where do we go from here, Richard? This is uncharted territory for the both of us. What would you say to me visiting you this Friday? You live in the park near the west end of the pond, am I right? We could meet at the bench near the fountain where I leave these letters. I remember you used to love going there to watch birds and to enjoy a sunny afternoon. It’s the reason I left my letter there to begin with. I know we can’t date like normal couples. I’m not naive. They don’t allow animals into most movie theaters and restaurants, and––though you’re certainly not an animal––I think those rules are in place to keep the smell and the mess to a minimum. I happen to delight in the way your flesh occasionally drips from your bones. It makes my heart drip into a puddle in my chest. But most people wouldn’t understand. They’d want to kick you out on the street like you were an animal, and I couldn’t bear to see you treated that way. Let me know if we can meet in the park. We can do it after sundown. We can be completely alone. Much love, Rachael P.S. The duck-bone collage you made me was absolutely adorable. It’s hanging above my bed as we speak. I think it really ties the room together. * * * Deer Rachael, Having difficult day today. First, maggot friends all hatch and fly away. Squiggles too. I think he was first to go. Had no idea maggot friends were also flies with brains of they own. Probably would have eaten them had I known. I guess you live and you learn. Or you live and then you die and then finally you learn. I feeling very clever today. Maybe I thinks I start writing memoir I always say I would write. What you think? It possibly called “Dead Ends: One Man’s Struggle To Live After Dead” or “Dead Ends: One Man’s Strugle To Live After Dead”. The thing is, I’m not sure how to spell struggle (strugle?). But when I find out, I will be in good shape I thinks. My brains gained much good and helpful things since I become undead, and I want to share them with the world. Some good jokes too. If I wait too long, brains will be shot off by police captain. So I must hurry. Do you know how it works Microsoft Word? You not have to know Power Point and Excel. Just Microsoft Word. If so, you might be of help to write my memoir? Of course I will meet you in park near the bench. Midnight good for you? I am glad you still likes me even after all this mess. I am not complaint, of course. Richard is happy undead. But sometimes I thinks I like my face when it not drooping off and my eyes is not rotting in my skull. Maybe just vanity. I don’t know. Love too, Richard P.S. Some those bones not duck bones. * * * Dearest Richard, I had the most amazing time with you last night. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the full moon was beautiful. I know we walked together for two hours, but it felt like mere minutes with you at my side. I believe it was one of the warmest nights of the year, and I was glad you let me lean against you to cool off. Do all the undead have such low body temperatures? Your hands are like ice! I think the outline for the memoir you shared with me is brilliant. I can see it becoming a national bestseller, no kidding. And the poetry you selected to head each chapter is perfect. I’m amazed, Richard. I will do everything in my power to help you write it. I have a portable computer at home with a word processor and I will bring it with me when we meet again. How does Friday night sound? Love, Rachael P.S. It’s spelled “struggle”. * * * Deer Rachael, Richard REALLY frustrated. I try to get job doing park maintenance. I figure I is here all this time anyway, so why not clean up and make a living? (“make a living” not a pun) So now park officials say “shoot to kill” when they see me shambling over near playground. I NOT EAT THE CHILDREN!!! How many times I say it?! My skin enjoy the heat from the slides! It tighten my pores and keep my flesh not so flabby! Keeps the smell down! I only want to make easier on children. Not eat. Even if infant brain sound delicious (which it do) I NEVER eat it. Besides, you see them kids that come to playground? Idiots. I don’t thinks I would eat they brains even if you pay me cash or even more brains. Anyway, thank for helping me write first chapter of memoir. You have beauty face and beauty brains too. You are special to me. I really hope park officials don’t shoot Richard and instead let Richard work. I want to make cash to pay Rachael for help. I not freeloader. Can we meets Thursday night instead of Friday? I have gut feeling police captain have personal vendetta against Richard and plan ambush on Friday night. Gut feelings usually right. Here’s how it works: I pull guts out and examine closely. Then, I thinks of the rhyme I made up. It go like this: If guts are green, bad things are coming. If guts are red, I go ahead with day like usual because things probably be fine for a few more weeks at least. It not rhyme as good as I thought. Anyway, guts were green so I figure bad things coming. They usually right about this stuff. Love, Richard P.S. Are you sure it not “strugle”? It really look right to me. * * * Dear Richard, I fear for your safety. Of course we can meet Thursday, but what about Friday? Where will you go? What if the police captain finds you? I’m afraid I’ll never see you again. I would feel much better if you came to my place and stayed in the backyard. It’s a spacious yard with many bushes and a garden. I have a problem with rabbits eating my vegetables and you may be able to help with that. What do you say? I wouldn’t mind at all. We’ll talk about it Thursday night. I’ll bring my computer again so we can work. Looking forward to our next date! Love, Rachael P.S. I’m positive it’s “struggle”. * * * Deer Rachael, Thank for your concerns. But Richard not Hollywood zombie. Richard am human undead real person with feelings and some mild brain decay. Richard might not be smartest or handsome anymore but can defend for his self. Also, I find shards of thick metal in dumpster and jam them into skull so if police captain shoot at head, bullets will bounce off. Also, it make Richard look like Terminator. But I would not mind to leave park for couple days, and rabbit sounds like tasty brains, so I will come. You are kind to me. How can I ever repay? If my heart still beated in my chest, it would beat for you. But it just a clump of black goo now. Oh well. Richard will see you Thursday. Love, Richard P.S. Do Rachael know what gangrene look like? Just wondering. * * * Dear Richard, I am worried beyond measure. I waited for you near the fountain for over an hour tonight. You didn’t show. I came home to see if you’d come directly here, perhaps confused about where we were meeting. But you were nowhere to be found. I am going to finish this letter and go back to the park for a while. I hope you’re all right. Love, Rachael P.S. I do not know what gangrene looks like, but I did some research and it can be harmful if left untreated. I’m not sure what it can do to undead flesh, but it can destroy living flesh rather quickly. We should have a doctor take a look at it. * * * Dear Richard, It’s been two days. I’m beginning to think I’ll never see you again. I looked for you everywhere––near the fountain, the playground, the picnic tables, even the soccer field. Where are you? I thought of calling the police, but I’m afraid they may have something to do with your disappearance. I hope you’re all right. Please, if you find this letter, come to my house immediately. Love, Rachael * * * Deer Rachael, Not good. Richard am sorry if this letter is poor writing and the paper kind of bloody. Richard not doing so good. Police captain came Thursday and not Friday. And he not brought bullets but flame thrower. Richard did not plan for that. Apparently, guts were not reliable. Maybe it was green for good and red for bad? I don’t know. Anyway, Richard was on him way to meet Rachael Thursday night when foot fell off. Probably gangrene problem. I should have known itchy and redness were not good sign. Anyway, foot fall off and tumble down steep hill and Richard am trying to chase when other foot snap at ankle and Richard immobilized in strange valley. I spend hour crawling back up hill only to find teenagers smoking and laughing at Richard at top. I try to scare them by scream “brains” but they only laugh more. They have my foot and is playing keep away. I scream more and someone calls police and them show up with pistols. They laughing kids not laughing anymore but pull out pistols of they own and start shooting at police. Richard caught in middle of this mess. Luckily, the metal in my head deflect a few bullets. But then the shooting stop and police arrest kids and call backup for “zombie problem”. I scream “I not zombie! I not bite you! I just want to meet girl at fountain! Write next chapter for book!” but nobody listen. Police captain show up with grin on face and flame-thrower in hands. He burn Richard severely and Richard run but not fast enough. Police captain chase and burn Richard to ashes. Only head remain. That’s right. I am only head. Maybe partial spinal cord. I can’t tell. I write with teeth. Anyway, Richard very sorry and ashamed, and by time you read this have probably rolled self off bridge onto six lane highway. Probably just a mess. Richard am leaving you notes for memoir. Would Rachael finish for Richard? It am my dying wish. I love you forever. Love, Richard * * * Dear Richard, It’s been seven years since your passing, and although I know you’ll never read this I felt obligated to write you. Perhaps it’s my way of finally saying goodbye. You will be pleased to know that I worked diligently on your memoir for months after you left, and finished it before the end of that year. An agent from a respectable agency picked it up and sold it for $90,000. Since then, it has gone paperback, and been translated into seventeen languages! Isn’t that amazing? I am using the money generated by its success to sponsor undead persons seeking higher education. It’s called the Richard Rawlings Memorial Dead-ucation Fund. Already, two underprivileged undead have completed their studies and have gone on to become a social worker and a small business owner respectively. I miss you very much, but I know you’re in a better place. I am dropping this letter into the fountain where we had our first date. Love, Rachael The End |
#2
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Re: Letters (A Zombie Tale)
Wow....
So touching. |
#3
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Re: Letters (A Zombie Tale)
This is pretty weird, but in a good way! I thought the last letter by Richard was pretty good. "That's right. I am only head. Maybe partial spinal cord. I can't tell." Very funny! My only suggestion would be to incorporate actual heroscape stuff in next time. Maybe make a zombie that is in love with a Nakita.
It's not whether you win or lose. It's having the 4th Massachusetts Line that counts! I see nothing, I hear nothing, and I know NOTHING!--Sgt. Shultz, Hogan's Heroes My custom terrain |
#4
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Re: Letters (A Zombie Tale)
You can pretend that it's a nakita agent if you'd like. it wasn't made to be Heroscape related really, it's just a short story. Like I said, I wasn't really sure it fits here. But Mike wanted some feedback and I knew I could get some good feedback here.
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#5
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Re: Letters (A Zombie Tale)
I thought it really captured all of the heart wrenching difficulties of the forbidden love between the living and the undead.
As a lover of all things zombie, I thought it was slightly reminiscent of the film "Zombie Honeymoon". Which of course highlights some of these same difficulties. How does a young vibrant woman reconcile her feelings of love towards her newlywed (now turned newlyundead) husband? When it's love it will last forever, and ever, and ever, until decay tears us apart. Bannister That can only mean one thing. And I don't know what it is. |
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Re: Letters (A Zombie Tale)
That was so touching. It broke my heart.
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#7
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Re: Letters (A Zombie Tale)
Wow.
Just wow. This sets a precedent, really. Tell Mike I'm saving this to my computer, and I'm going to have to live up to this in my own mind when I write humor/romance. This is exactly the kind of convention-breaking humorous yet touching kind of story I love. Is your friend looking into getting this published? It's actually fantastic it's not HS-related, so he could put it in a short story collection or a fantasy magazine or something. Applause, applause, from the stranger on the internet, for what little it's worth. |
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