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Zane Norrison · (05-08-2019)

Having an undead kitten was proving to be the best decision that I ever made. She was the perfect furry companion. There to greet me when I returned home from work. Cheerful, playful and bouncing around. Yet not so energetic or untamed, that she tore the house apart when I was away. She'd hop on the sofa or the kitchen table when I was enjoying meals, eagerly enthusiastic to partake as well. Which naturally, I would provide bits and sections of brain matter to her freely, gladly sharing portions of my sustenance. Sometimes she'd get so overtaken and happy that I tossed her a piece of brain, she'd flop over and start rolling about. It was really quite cute. The adorable, lighter side of zombism. She also somehow always knew when I would start to feel a bit gloomy or down and was right there to lift my spirits. It was uncanny and gave me the joy that any living human pet owner might have, thus providing me with a sense of being more than simply an animated corpse, cursed with an infection that gave me an insatiable craving for brains. I felt normal. As normal as I could feel, given the circumstances of my condition and that did wonders for my overall disposition.

Oddly enough, the virus seemed to do something rather strange to the kitten's appearance. Nothing tragic or gross occurred. Limbs and pieces didn't start falling off or anything frightening like that. No. She still looked exactly the same. The only difference was that she turned green. In color. Lime green to be precise. Other than that, she was still the same ball of fluff and cuddles. Only now she was my favorite color. It was weird but kinda cool at the same time. It also inspired me to name her... Swamp Thing. Based on the mere fact that she was green and undead. Nothing more beyond that but it still seemed fitting and she responded rather well to it. Yeah, a kitten that frolicked and pranced to you, after being called. Imagine that. I could be all the way on the opposite end of the apartment and yell - Swampy!, and she would come running. Sometimes getting so excited, that she wouldn't be able to properly slow down, so she would do a sort of tumble, over herself when she reached me. Winding up in a heap at my feet. With a tiny huff of frustration as she picked herself up and righted her stance. It made her all the more lovable.

If you couldn't tell I was feeling good and my darling kitty companion was to blame.

Okay...

There might have been a secondary reason.

You see, awhile back when I lost my boot and donated the other to the street. I ventured into a shoe shop in order to acquire a new pair. That's when I met Frankie Styles. A feisty, punk rock chick with a black mohawk and just as many tattoos and piercings as I had. There was an almost instant connection and we started to hang out. Little by little this increased and in time, we were spending a lot of free moments in each other's company. I couldn't help but not like her, she was perfect.

We had the same taste in movies, music, video games and books. Enjoyed the same recreational activities. Were liked minded in our viewpoints and shared similar opinions during discussions. When we talked to each other, it would seem like only minutes passed even though, in reality, hours had gone by. Regardless if it was in person or on the phone. It was like we were in sync, in nearly every way. With the exception that she was way more into art than me... she could paint, draw, sculpt and literally make something amazing from nothing; scrap yards and rummage sales were her best friends, and she had a pulse.

Still, I couldn't helped but get pulled into her world, I got lost in it and that reckless abandon made me forget... at least, for a little while, that I was an abomination. At the same time, it made me eat my heart out, the reality of it all. Here was this awesome chick, badass and fearless and I was a corpse that ate brains, that could ruin her life with one accidental scratch.

Needless to say we were not sexually active, much to my dick's dismay. The fact that she was drop dead gorgeous, with about one of the most tightest, sexiest bodies, I have ever seen; which is saying a lot because I used to be sort of a slut when I was alive, made it all the more worse. I was hooked though and took what I could get, spending time in Frankieland, only to go home and... I'm just not going to finish this thought.

Lately it started to become abundantly clear, she wanted more and that's where things began to feel a little complicated. Everything inside me screamed for me to tell her the truth about what I am. That's right. I never revealed, that I... Zane Norrison was an animated cadaver that required brains, to keep an internal demon at bay and avoid being responsible for creating the apocalypse. She knew I worked at a morgue, I wrestled in the XWF and that's it. I even played off my truth, like it was a well concocted story, conjured up by Darius Xavier, to gather ratings for the federation. Picked that name outta thin air, with no rhyme or reason backing the choice. I hated lying to her but her rejection and possible fear coupled with her running off in terror, would have killed me. Again. It might've even hurt worse this time. So I lied and pretended, all the while wishing that I could admit the truth.

Today, I finally decided that I was going to come clean, no more deceit. While that should have scared me, it actually was liberating and freeing. Also I figured if a cuter introduction to zombies was conveniently right there, when I confessed, to soften the blow, well maybe things would work out in my favor. In theory. Frankie wouldn't flee in fright, she would accept me for what I truly am and that possible acceptance might come with a chance... that we could be something more? Than friends? Not really sure how that would work out in some avenues, without extreme precaution but that bridge could be traversed later on. If things worked out according to plan.

Hence the uplifting aspect of Swampy, my undead kitten. She was exactly what I needed and her accidental scratch and transformation was kinda like fate. Intervening. In a way. That's what I told myself, anyway. Surely when Frankie encountered her, it would have the desired effect and then, I could explain my situation. That was the basis of the plan anyway. It had the potential of working or it could go terribly awry and awful. Fingers crossed.

As I silently drove myself crazy, cleaning my apartment that wasn't even dirty in preparation of Frankie's arrival cause I invited her over to hang out and the kitten danced around, I started to feel sick. What if I made a mistake? Do I call her up and cancel? Tell Frankie the whole thing was off? What do I do? Then there was a knock at the door and I almost passed out. If I had needed air to survive, I would have forgotten how to breathe and if my heart still beat in my chest, it woulda stopped, right then and there. Slowly, I walked to the door and swiftly flung it open. Only to discover, my parents. My mother and father, were standing in the doorway. What an unexpected nightmare. Frankie was on her way over, so I could reveal that I was a zombie on the hopeful pretense that maybe she might be able to look past that... and my parents... were here.

"Mom. Dad. What a..."

Horrible.

"Surprise."

Nervous laughter. Keep it together, Zane. It's not the end of the world.

"Please come in."

Oh my god, this is my version of the apocalypse. Except I'm the zombie, so the hope of the living dead ripping me apart, isn't on the table. Crap. This version was going to be way worse than the worst case scenario.

"This Saturday, I get my shot at the X-Treme title. My opponent? The man that I have beaten once before, Mastermind. And the setting? A last man standing match. Hmmm? Curious. I wonder if this means that management will allow Mastermind, to wield a weapon? A gun, perchance? With head shots permitted? Maybe an axe? To chop me apart? Cut me into tiny pieces? Cause I'm a zombie and the living dead, have a distinct reputation for their relentless enthusiasm to keep on coming."

"While I am far more coherent and comprehending of my surroundings, I can speak and string together tangible thoughts into sentences, that surpasses moaning and groaning or even uttering a guttural cry for - BRRAAAIINNSSSS!!!, I still have that same stamina and endless amount of energy. I can come at someone non-stop, without faltering or yielding. Broken bones, massive blood loss, extensive damage, that won't stop me or slow me down."

"It's true, I can feel pain, to an extent but it doesn't effect me, the same way that it does humans. While a sustained injury can potentially stop a living, breathing human in their tracks and maybe even put them out of commission, permanently. That aspect isn't a factor for me. I'm like the Energizer Bunny, I keep going... and going... and going, understand? There's no ceasing this bunny... er, zombie."

"On top of that, I could go feral. Get overtaken by full on zombie rage. Hahaha! I say that like I haven't been honing my ability to invoke that fury, in preparation for this match. When that happens and it will happen, then it's anyone's guess what might occur. I could rip out his intestines or tear his still beating heart, directly from his chest. Both options would kill him. Even though he is immune to my virus, a statement that Mastermind willingly offered up himself and that clears away the horrors of him becoming infected, that doesn't stop him from suffering a violent death, if I slash open a jugular or pull out his spine. This is what he is encouraging, when he gives me permission to do my worst and there's a last man standing option, in play."

"I was promised the satisfaction of this release before and then, I was drugged. Someone stole my careless surrender. That will not happen this time. No sir. I will not be controlled because the powers that be, are afraid. Mastermind gave me the allowance to do as I will before and that is what I will do now. Of this, I promise. Even if it means using staff members as water testers. I will have my release. Because this opportunity doesn't come that often. So I intend to take full advantage of the situation. These types of matches are like my therapy in a way. I need this."

"Know that Mastermind and remember it, when you see me standing across from you in that ring. The shackles are coming off, the cage door is being lifted and the beast will be unleashed. And it can't wait to play with you. If I weren't in total control right now, dare I say, I might be salivating at the mere thought."

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Confessions of an Abomination Pt - 1: Unexpected Arrivals
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