"How could you let this happen?"


I looked at Harper and slowly shrugged. In my head, I was saying that I told her something like this might happen and that I shouldn't watch the kitten, none of those words made it out though . Instead, I sheepishly stated...


"I'm sorry."


"You're sorry?"


"Yes. I am sorry. She was sitting on my lap and I fired up a cigarette. I wasn't fully paying attention and kittens are impulsive, who knows what's going through their tiny fluffy brains, most of the time or why they do things? She lunged at my hand and had her claws in me before I could react. I shouldn't have let her up on the sofa. If I left her on the floor, she wouldn't be infected now."


Biting my lip, I raised my eyebrows a tad as I slightly dipped my head.


"This is what you get for having a zombie as a friend."


With a sigh, my eyes attached themselves to the floor, I felt like the lowest form of existence on the planet. Then again, that is what the films depict zombies as, so I guess I felt exactly as I should.


"I'll pay for her replacement and even go with you, to help pick the new one out. Dressed in a hazmat suit, of course. So I don't risk harming any other animal in the process."


Gradually, I raised my focus to Harper.


"Please don't hate me."


She rolled her eyes and shook her head as a soft chuckle escaped her. Then she grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.


"I could never fucking hate you. Even if I seen you go full on Resident Evil and slaughter a shit load of people. And your not my friend, you're my best friend. It just sucks cause I don't want to see that kitty get put down in general, least of all by having her brains smashed."


"Maybe she doesn't have to get her brains smashed?"


We separated from the hug and Harper, lifted a curious brow.


"She could stay with me and I could take care of her. I'm already a zombie, there's no risk of infecting me. I mean, I would have to be super careful and make sure she didn't get loose but this way, she doesn't have to die. Not completely anyway. She'd be dead but she'd still be here and frolicking about as a happy, well fed and taken care of kitten usually would do. A happy, well fed and taken care of kitten... with a diet of brains, still active and among the land of the living though."


"How safe would that be?"


"I don't know but it might be worth a try and if it leads to a zombie outbreak, we could... um, we could... well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."


"It sounds like the making of the worst possible idea ever but when I look at her tiny face, I just can't bring myself to bash her brains in with a skillet."


"Technically it doesn't have to be that violent. You could use a knitting needle and give a solid thrust to the back of her head."


"Do you own a knitting needle?"


"No."


"Neither do I and even if I did, I still couldn't do that either. Could you?"


"No, that's why I suggested that I'd keep her, I like cats. In spite of never owning one of my own. Growing up, in my house back in Detroit, my parents never got one because my mom was allergic to animal dander and then when I moved out, I didn't get one because I discovered that I enjoyed drugs, waaay more than pets. Also I was a dealer and I was constantly out and about, somewhere. Hence my current condition. If I wasn't out at a club, slinging product and I was at home like some sort of reclusive, shut in with a cat, I'd probably be alive right now."


"But then you'd also be in Detroit and we wouldn't know each other."


"True. I'd be alive th... oh, who am I kidding, this was always meant to happen. There is no way I would have ever stayed in, even if I had a cat. That poor thing would have been lonely and neglected, then I would have died, become a zombie and whoever wound up moving into my old place, would have found a dead cat, decaying on the carpet. Then not only could I say I was a former drug dealer, turned zombie but I could also add animal abuser to the list. Wow. That really puts things into perspective."


"Way to see the glass as half full there buddy."


"What can I say, the road to becoming a zombie, is never one lined in gold. Still, it could be a lot worse. At least I have friends, a job that allows me to acquire brains, a thriving, career in wrestling accompanied with actual fans and now, I've got a kitty. I gotta say, my afterlife, isn't half bad."


"That's the spirit. I'm holding you to paying for the replacement kitty and going with me to the pet store. Leave the hazmat suit at home though, you're already strange enough without adding 'that freak in a hazmat suit' to your repertoire."


"Thanks, Harper. I needed something to bring my confidence back down to where it belonged. Also, good cause not only do I not own a hazmat suit, I wouldn't even begin to know where to acquire one."


"Hazmat Suits 'Я' Us."


"Ah... I was wondering what that place was, which is weird, because you would think the name would have clued me in to what they sold."


"In this society of hipster logic you can never tell. They could have always been being ironic and when you walked into the place, you'd find out they were selling garden supplies and plants."


"I can see the connection. A hazmat suit is usually connected to disaster and death. Plants equal life, a symbol of hope and survival. It makes sense."


"Fuckin' hipster, I knew it! You wear that leather biker jacket ironically, don't you? You probably don't like punk and psychobilly, either. It's all been a sham. A rouse. When you're alone you probably listen to Cat Power, St. Vincent and Grimes."


"Oh shit! You found me out."


"I can't believe I saw you in that Meteors t-shirt and thought that you were really into that band. When in reality, it was only for show. A disguise. Covering up the fact that you're a closet hipster."


"Careful. I might break out my Modest Mouse and Vampire Weekend records. I only buy vinyl, by the way. Not because I'm nostalgic or think that it preserves the true quality of the original sound, but because I'm being ironic. Much like when I wear flannel and dark rimmed glasses. In fact, I was thinking of returning my IPhone and getting a Nokia flip phone, for the same reason. Hey, at least you know my secret now, so I can openly smoke my cherry oak, old man pipe and wear my tweed jacket with elbow patches, in peace and out in the open. I have to say this has been, truly a liberating moment, thank you for that."


We both burst out into laughter.


"God, you're such a fucking dork."


Sadly this moment of goofiness was disrupted, when the kitten wandered in front of us, proceeded to puke up an extensively long and painful seeming stream of black sludge and then tip over on her side. Her small eyes gazing up at me, pleading for help, while she did mews of agony and gasped her last breaths. The whole process lasted about five minutes but from my perspective and definitely hers as well, it felt like eternity. I've been there myself. I know. It is a perpetual, endless torture. Seconds feel like years and minutes are decades. Broke my heart to see her endure that torment. Then all at once, she ceased all movement.


Harper burst into tears and as she sobbed, I picked up the kitty. Bringing her into the kitchen, I placed her onto the counter and fetched a neon green piece of plastic tupperware, from my refrigerator. Inside, there was a decent portion of brain left, I pulled a chunk off and placed it on the counter next to the kitten. Then I returned the container to the fridge. As I did that, I heard a tiny mew and looked over to see the kitty, gradually standing on shaky, unstable legs. She looked at me and then hungrily devoured the piece of brain. Immediately doing a tiny cheerful sounding mew afterwards. Heh. Looks like I've got a pet. Now all I've gotta do is name her. Hmmm... I wonder what I should call my new kitten?




"Well it looks like both Nathaniel and Luca, put out promos. Still have yet to hear from Bearded War Pig but I'm sure he'll get around to it eventually. BWP is more than likely out fighting some sort of wild animal. Like a cougar or something. Or he's hunting. Ducks or deer, maybe even elk or moose. Then naturally he has to tend to the kill afterwards. Can't leave it there to rot. He has to work fast and remove the fur or feathers, clean and then cure the meat. It's a lot of work, he can't do all that, and have a camera shoved in his face too. That wouldn't be practical. It's all good Bearded War Pig, you do you, man. No worries. We'll have a chat after the match and you can tell me all about life in the wild."


"Anyway, since Nathaniel addressed me first, I suppose I'll do him the honor of supplying him with the first response."


"Nathan, it doesn't surprise me that you think so lowly of me, I never expected an abomination like myself to meet your expectations. People rarely make the cut with you, when they have a pulse, an animated corpse shouldn't hope for any special or different treatment. Still I think you should lose the luger, at least for one night and see who fares better in a fight. Wolf or zombie. I already proved that a zombie can beat a vampire. Back when I claimed the Hart title, during my first match. I think it's time that I cross werewolf off my list as well. Start showing the world that the bottom tier monster in the realm of horror is actually more badass then all the rest. Maybe it'll encourage other creatures to show up and deliver a challenge. Wendigos aka skinwalkers, minotaurs, the mothman, Frankenstein's monster, harpies, gargoyles, succubuses and incubuses, maybe a golem... there really is an endless supply of freaky beasties to battle and I say bring it on you, spooky bastards. Come face the abomination with an insatiable craving for brains. But first, I need to knock a racist werewolf off his fucking pedestal and show him that being a pure blooded, German does not make him a special snowflake. Come on Nathaniel, what do you say we take this battle, to the next level."


"Werewolf vs zombie, what say you?"


"I wait patiently, for your response."

1x X-Treme Champ
1x Hart Champion
1x SOTM November 2018