Post by Zane Norrison on Dec 13, 2018 3:07:32 GMT -8
Ever since I realized what sort of abomination I was, I readied myself for the worst. For what might occur on the day that my secret was revealed. When mass quantities of people learned the truth. About me and my nasty habit. When I was discovered for being the foul demon that I was and it was understood that I consumed human brains. That I required brains, not only as a means of sustenance but to also silence and stall the monster, that would most assuredly, take over, if I didn't eat. The creature that wouldn't stop, until it was forced to desist, by promptly being revoked from the equation of life. Thanks to a direct gunshot wound to the cranium. To this day, I still have nightmares of becoming that ravenous beast, permanently. Unable to switch back, stuck in rabid zombie mode, forever.
I'd like to think that if the day ever came, when I wasn't able to return from that state, that I'd miss my mind the most but in reality, I doubt I'd even notice that it was gone. Which only makes me feel even more morose about the whole situation. Though, this isn't about that, this is about what could go down when society was introduced to my dirty little secret. Opposed to what really did happen. I always imagined mass hysteria and panic. Gun toting survivalists, intent to shoot on sight and scientists wanting to either dissect me or run experiments and tests. The government and men in black. Heck, even groups of angry townsfolk, wielding torches and pitchforks. Yes. Pitchforks. One thing that I didn't anticipate was fans. Then again, I was never a professional wrestler and double champion in my gruesome fantasies, either. My dark sordid, tales of caution, usually just focused on what would happen on the day that I was exposed and the horrible things that would ensue afterwards. In hindsight, I see how that would be a tad derivative and cliché.
The population going nuts, arming themselves and preparing for an all out war, due to the unearthing of zombies.
Pun totally intended.
Maybe, learning the truth about me in this manner, softened the blow somehow. It made the bitter pill of reality, easier to swallow. Understanding that I was a zombie, thriving in the world... of wrestling. Perhaps, it cushioned the impact and put up a safety net, in a way. People could pretend that it was all an act. Tell themselves that I didn't really eat brains. Especially not human brains. I was merely pretending to be a fearsome creature of nightmares and lore.
No one was at risk or in any real danger.
It was a nice lie.
Based on the events that went down in Australia, I knew first hand that it was false. A myth that I fooled myself into believing was fact. Luckily, that situation was dealt with and contained, still that doesn't change that it was my fault. That I was to blame for what happened. I lost control during my fight; however, that momentary lapse of temperance didn't last, since I was able to regain my composure after awhile and return to my senses. I didn't stay a snarling, vicious beast, intent on ripping people apart with my teeth.
That didn't erase the tragedy though, nor did it alleviate the heavy burden of my guilt. If anything, it made it worse. There wasn't a way to reverse what had already been done but I could make sure that a repeat occurrence didn't take place. I needed to practice stabilizing my transition and learn to control the rage. To gain a sense of discipline and restraint, even in my loss of inhibitions and wild, untamed fury. I had to rule over my monster and train it to coexist with others. If I was going to stay alive and be a professional wrestler, this must be done.
This brings me back to the odd phenomenon of having fans. Wrestling enthusiasts that were also into zombies. It was really weird. Encountering them, face to face, was even more strange. Particularly, when the fan happened to be an extremely attractive lady, that I met in a bar.
Dayum! I would do terrible things to her. And no, I wasn't even considering, the option of removing and devouring her brain. Still, in spite of that, I'm pretty sure all those other ideas that swarmed my thoughts like bees to a field of flowers, would end in her not only dying but becoming a zombie as well. Zombie problems, they were very real.
"You're Zane Norrison, aren't you?"
She asked, after she took a sip from her beer, setting the bottle of Blue Moon onto the table that was separating us.
"Yes. I am"
"Wow. Tonight must be my lucky night. You know, you're one of my favorite new editions to the XWF. Aliens. Living weapons. Nazi werewolves. So overrated. Now a zombie, that's way more intriguing. Especially one that's been breaking the mold and changing how the world perceives zombies. That's revolutionary right there, in my opinion."
"Thanks. I'm not really doing anything in that department though. Nothing besides eating brains; to keep the side of me that would otherwise go on a rampage without them, at bay."
"I see. So it really isn't an act."
"Haaa! No. It's not an act."
Why didn't I just tell her that I was faking it and be done with this. I shot a look over to the bar, where my friend Harper was supposed to be fetching drinks and realized, she was busy flirting with the bartender. Which meant I was on my own. For the time being anyway. My attention snapped back to the lady that was talking to me, when I felt her hand gently caress mine.
"Cold as a corpse."
"I've been told."
"It's really not an act?"
"Nope."
"Good. That would have been so boring if it was all pretend and done in the name of theatrics for a wrestling match."
I retracted my hand and ran it through my hair, as I nervously darted my eyes, back to Harper. Just give the bartender your number and get over here. Damn it. What was she even doing? She had a girlfriend. Sigh. Why couldn't she just be a faithful lesbian?
"Where do you acquire your supply of brains?"
"Usually from the recently deceased. On top of being a wrestler, I also work at a morgue."
"Interesting. So you've never sampled any brains from the living."
"No but I sort of make it my priority, not to do that. I'm not a murderer. That is I try my best to aim for the option that doesn't make me a murderer."
Nice save. Try your best to aim for the option that doesn't make you a murderer. That didn't stop you from killing those med school students that created you, or those people in attendance of your first wrestling match, now did it? No. It did not. Sure you could claim ignorance for the medical students but the people in the crowd? Not a chance. You knew the stakes and yet, you still gambled on the odds. How many were there, two... three, perhaps? Four? Five? Twelve? Did you even remember? Totally unacceptable. That type of catastrophe, cannot happen. Ever again.
"What about if someone was willing?"
"Excuse me?"
"What if someone would willingly allow you to eat their brain? Not me, of course. No, I'm not offering up my own brain, for a snack. I'm simply curious about what you would do in that situation. If a person walked up and told you that you could have their brain for your next meal? What would you do? Would you accept their offer?"
That was a tough one. Such a proposal suggested madness. It never happened in the past and I didn't expect that to ever change. Even with a legion of fans, all stricken with zombie fever. I couldn't imagine such a scenario taking place. If I was ever faced with that sort of crazy situation, I think I'd be just as taken off guard and perplexed, as I was now. What would I do if someone willingly offered me, their brain?
"I don't know."
I laughed.
"Remind them that they would be sacrificing themselves. Essentially committing suicide. Probably try to talk them out of it."
"Noble."
"If anyone realizes that life is precious and fleeting and should never be squandered, it's me. Every day, always."
"What if the person knew the cost and still wanted to give their brain up? Say if they were dying of some sort of incurable disease? What if they wanted to end their own suffering and feed you at the same time?"
"I suppose if that set of circumstances presented itself, I would be more inclined to accept. I think I'd need some proof though. It sounds insensitive, I know but that way, I'd have evidence that they were telling the truth. I would have verification that they were really dying and not simply suicidal. Or insane."
"Fascinating. That gives me an idea."
The woman walked around the table and came up to me. Close. Her face a mere inches from mine, I could feel the heat radiating from her body. Swallowing hard, I took a step back. She snickered and tilted her head as she pushed a bit of hair away, that had fallen in front of her eyes.
"Show me some proof that your a zombie."
"How do you want me to do that?"
"Obviously, I don't want you to eat any brains but I seen your fight, I know what you look like when you go full on zombie. You can control that, right?"
"Sometimes."
"What about now, do you think you could control it right here and now, in this tavern?"
I didn't know. Not really. It was chancy. Pretty touch and go, precarious.
"Maybe."
"Well I think you can. So do it. Come on, literally no one is paying attention. No one but me and I want to see this happen. Please. Can you do that for me?"
Moving in closer, she smiled at me coyly and that's when I realized, I had no where left to go, the wall was right behind me. Pushing my back against it to keep as much space between us, I bit my lip and met her gaze. She looked up at me with such intent. With such a yearning. I felt myself caving before I even formulated the first syllable of a word.
"You need to back up. Just in case. If I do this, I don't want you to be too close. A precaution. To prevent any sort of possible disaster from occurring."
Smiling, she stepped back as I closed my eyes and silently prayed, for nothing bad to happen. From there, I let my thoughts and mind drift to that dark place. Where I kept the savage side of me hidden. Asleep and dormant to the world. Then I let myself go. I allowed that part of me to wake up and left its cage open, freeing it to the outside, where it could be seen, in all its hideous glory. The sensation of such a release was overwhelming and instantaneous. I felt it wash over me, overtaking my body like a tidal wave. The compulsive hunger underlining it all, ever present and undeniable, despite the fact that I ate earlier in the evening.
I restrained the craving, the best I could. Still I could smell the thing that I desired most in that moment. All around me. Brains. So many brains. The tavern was full of life. The insistent drone of pulses, the thud of hearts in chests and the chorus of breathing, from bodies playing hosts, to a delicious assortment of brains. I felt like a small child in a candy store. While the shopkeeper was asleep at his perch and there weren't any security cameras to capture acts of theft. Awww... man, get it together, Zane. This was good practice. Keep the monster on a leash, when it's out for a walk. Don't ruin the night out at the pub. The people around you don't want to die, so you can chow down on their cerebellums. With a heavy sigh, I opened my eyes. The girl gasped but then quickly giggled as she unwisely, came closer.
"Well... is it everything that you hoped for?"
My voice was deeper and far more scratchier, than usual. Somewhat hollow and distant sounding too. Like it was coming from somewhere beyond my throat. Somewhere past my physical form, not resonating from my body or being at all. Spooky but I guess that made sense, I was a ghoul, after all.
"Your eyes are so cool."
She beamed with absolute radiance. Like a true lover of the undead would only be able to do. To her I wasn't a monster, I was a marvel. My eyes - crimson scleras equipped with solid black irises that seemed to blend right into pupils, were... cool. I averted my gaze and shook my head, yanking the creature back to its confines, I internally replaced the shackles and grinned.
"Thanks."
"Thank you for letting me witness that up close."
Her hand was on my shoulder now, trailing down my leather jacket.
"So tell me... is everything dead and unresponsive? I haven't seen you breathe once since we've been chatting. Does that mean nothing works? Or are there exceptions?"
Oh no. I knew what she was getting at. Can the stiff get a stiff one? Yes, I can achieve an erection and quite a substantial one, at that. Not that I ever compared it to another man's wang while it was standing at attention but when I was alive, I never received any complaints. My guy always got the job done. And even though, he's been without work as of late, he still reminded me that he was there and available for whatever position would have him. With the exception that he only enjoyed gainful employment from women. Currently, he was making it known that he was indeed, ready to be hired. A distinctly undeniable state, she would discover this when her hand made the leap from coat to cock.
"I think I answered my own question."
A swift smirk accented her face as she leaned into me, bringing her lips to mine. She kissed me before I had even a second to cease her trajectory, in order to alternatively thwart her plan of action. Instead it all went exactly how she intended. As I found myself kissing her in return, almost immediately, my hand securing a place on the back of her neck, I continued forth with this process, hungrily. What can I say? It's been awhile, I got a little caught up in the moment.
"Making friends, are we?"
Harper's voice, interrupted like a bucket of ice water, dumped right on top of the heated moment of passion, with instantaneous results. Softly chuckling, I turned to face her. Watching as she placed two beers on the table, I helped myself to one of them and took a drink.
"Harper. This is... uh..."
That's right. I never got her name. Although, making out with a random stranger before obtaining a name, wasn't a first for me. In fact, back when I had a pulse, I was guilty of doing a whole lot more than kissing, without learning names.
"Emily Louise. Nice to meet you."
She reached over and shook Harper's hand, saving the day by introducing herself.
"Charmed, I'm sure. Nevertheless, still not enough for me to make out with you."
Harper laughed.
"Good thing Zane took care of that already."
Emily reached over and snatched up my phone from the table, quickly entering her number, she then set it back down and smiled.
"I have to get going. I've got an early day tomorrow. Zane. Call me."
Probably a bad idea. Considering this was someone that clearly wanted to sleep with me. Still I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was tempted. My eyes were practically glued to her ass as she walked away, shaking my head, I directed my focus back to Harper.
"God Zane, drool much."
"Oh please, you're one to talk. You have a girlfriend that you live with and you were practically eye fucking the bartender, while you talked to her."
"For free drinks. Which worked perfectly. Meanwhile, you were counting a strange lady's teeth, with your tongue. Wait. Did you infect her? Is she going to become a zombie because of that?"
Yeah. Harper was aware that I was a zombie. She confronted me, the day after my first match in the XWF and I revealed the truth. To my surprise, she didn't lose her shit. She actually handled the fact that I was a member of the undead, rather well. The news barely effected our friendship at all. The only difference was that she now knew that she shouldn't steal food from my plate. For fear that she might eat brains by accident. Believe me when I say, that used to take a real toll on me, back when she was clueless to my condition.
"I don't think so."
I didn't really know for sure, I hadn't any experience with kissing anyone, after the virus took me. Could I have contaminated her?
"Really I think she should be fine."
I stated, in a feeble attempt to reassure myself, while I silenced Harper's concern.
"I'll definitely find out when I call her."
"Real nice, Zane. You may have infected the poor woman but on the bright side, she'll have you right there to teach her the ropes, should she become a zombie."
"Seriously, I'm pretty certain that she'll be okay."
I wasn't all that sure but I was getting sick of Harper's badgering.
"Fine. Say that she is okay... that kissing her, didn't pass on the disease. Without question, sleeping with her, will positively do the trick."
"Who says that I plan on sleeping with her?"
"You're telling me that you don't want to have sex with her?"
"I didn't say that but I know better than to take that risk, I wouldn't purposely subject her to becoming a zombie because I wanted to get my rocks off. I do have self control, you know?"
"Clearly. This whole conversation was spawned by your ability to contain yourself."
"That's not fair. She started it. She kissed me."
"Your reasoning is so substantial and strong, it's practically made out of solid iron. There's no way you could have avoided the situation, if she's the one that kissed you."
"It happened so fast, I didn't anticipate it."
"I bet you couldn't. Just like you'll be absolutely powerless to stop her from doing anything else. Except next time, she'll slip and wind up on your dick somehow. Right? Yeah. I'm right."
"That won't happen."
"Sure it won't. Look, do humanity a favor and double up on the condoms, when that happens, okay sport?"
Taking a sip of her beer, Harper rolled her eyes.
"Assuming she isn't already a zombie when it does."
Instead of denying what Harper suggested, I drank my beer and remained quiet. She was right. The chances of something happening between Emily and I, were high. If only there was a way to eliminate the danger, without doubling up on the prophylactics. Hmmm... I wonder...
I'd like to think that if the day ever came, when I wasn't able to return from that state, that I'd miss my mind the most but in reality, I doubt I'd even notice that it was gone. Which only makes me feel even more morose about the whole situation. Though, this isn't about that, this is about what could go down when society was introduced to my dirty little secret. Opposed to what really did happen. I always imagined mass hysteria and panic. Gun toting survivalists, intent to shoot on sight and scientists wanting to either dissect me or run experiments and tests. The government and men in black. Heck, even groups of angry townsfolk, wielding torches and pitchforks. Yes. Pitchforks. One thing that I didn't anticipate was fans. Then again, I was never a professional wrestler and double champion in my gruesome fantasies, either. My dark sordid, tales of caution, usually just focused on what would happen on the day that I was exposed and the horrible things that would ensue afterwards. In hindsight, I see how that would be a tad derivative and cliché.
The population going nuts, arming themselves and preparing for an all out war, due to the unearthing of zombies.
Pun totally intended.
Maybe, learning the truth about me in this manner, softened the blow somehow. It made the bitter pill of reality, easier to swallow. Understanding that I was a zombie, thriving in the world... of wrestling. Perhaps, it cushioned the impact and put up a safety net, in a way. People could pretend that it was all an act. Tell themselves that I didn't really eat brains. Especially not human brains. I was merely pretending to be a fearsome creature of nightmares and lore.
No one was at risk or in any real danger.
It was a nice lie.
Based on the events that went down in Australia, I knew first hand that it was false. A myth that I fooled myself into believing was fact. Luckily, that situation was dealt with and contained, still that doesn't change that it was my fault. That I was to blame for what happened. I lost control during my fight; however, that momentary lapse of temperance didn't last, since I was able to regain my composure after awhile and return to my senses. I didn't stay a snarling, vicious beast, intent on ripping people apart with my teeth.
That didn't erase the tragedy though, nor did it alleviate the heavy burden of my guilt. If anything, it made it worse. There wasn't a way to reverse what had already been done but I could make sure that a repeat occurrence didn't take place. I needed to practice stabilizing my transition and learn to control the rage. To gain a sense of discipline and restraint, even in my loss of inhibitions and wild, untamed fury. I had to rule over my monster and train it to coexist with others. If I was going to stay alive and be a professional wrestler, this must be done.
This brings me back to the odd phenomenon of having fans. Wrestling enthusiasts that were also into zombies. It was really weird. Encountering them, face to face, was even more strange. Particularly, when the fan happened to be an extremely attractive lady, that I met in a bar.
Dayum! I would do terrible things to her. And no, I wasn't even considering, the option of removing and devouring her brain. Still, in spite of that, I'm pretty sure all those other ideas that swarmed my thoughts like bees to a field of flowers, would end in her not only dying but becoming a zombie as well. Zombie problems, they were very real.
"You're Zane Norrison, aren't you?"
She asked, after she took a sip from her beer, setting the bottle of Blue Moon onto the table that was separating us.
"Yes. I am"
"Wow. Tonight must be my lucky night. You know, you're one of my favorite new editions to the XWF. Aliens. Living weapons. Nazi werewolves. So overrated. Now a zombie, that's way more intriguing. Especially one that's been breaking the mold and changing how the world perceives zombies. That's revolutionary right there, in my opinion."
"Thanks. I'm not really doing anything in that department though. Nothing besides eating brains; to keep the side of me that would otherwise go on a rampage without them, at bay."
"I see. So it really isn't an act."
"Haaa! No. It's not an act."
Why didn't I just tell her that I was faking it and be done with this. I shot a look over to the bar, where my friend Harper was supposed to be fetching drinks and realized, she was busy flirting with the bartender. Which meant I was on my own. For the time being anyway. My attention snapped back to the lady that was talking to me, when I felt her hand gently caress mine.
"Cold as a corpse."
"I've been told."
"It's really not an act?"
"Nope."
"Good. That would have been so boring if it was all pretend and done in the name of theatrics for a wrestling match."
I retracted my hand and ran it through my hair, as I nervously darted my eyes, back to Harper. Just give the bartender your number and get over here. Damn it. What was she even doing? She had a girlfriend. Sigh. Why couldn't she just be a faithful lesbian?
"Where do you acquire your supply of brains?"
"Usually from the recently deceased. On top of being a wrestler, I also work at a morgue."
"Interesting. So you've never sampled any brains from the living."
"No but I sort of make it my priority, not to do that. I'm not a murderer. That is I try my best to aim for the option that doesn't make me a murderer."
Nice save. Try your best to aim for the option that doesn't make you a murderer. That didn't stop you from killing those med school students that created you, or those people in attendance of your first wrestling match, now did it? No. It did not. Sure you could claim ignorance for the medical students but the people in the crowd? Not a chance. You knew the stakes and yet, you still gambled on the odds. How many were there, two... three, perhaps? Four? Five? Twelve? Did you even remember? Totally unacceptable. That type of catastrophe, cannot happen. Ever again.
"What about if someone was willing?"
"Excuse me?"
"What if someone would willingly allow you to eat their brain? Not me, of course. No, I'm not offering up my own brain, for a snack. I'm simply curious about what you would do in that situation. If a person walked up and told you that you could have their brain for your next meal? What would you do? Would you accept their offer?"
That was a tough one. Such a proposal suggested madness. It never happened in the past and I didn't expect that to ever change. Even with a legion of fans, all stricken with zombie fever. I couldn't imagine such a scenario taking place. If I was ever faced with that sort of crazy situation, I think I'd be just as taken off guard and perplexed, as I was now. What would I do if someone willingly offered me, their brain?
"I don't know."
I laughed.
"Remind them that they would be sacrificing themselves. Essentially committing suicide. Probably try to talk them out of it."
"Noble."
"If anyone realizes that life is precious and fleeting and should never be squandered, it's me. Every day, always."
"What if the person knew the cost and still wanted to give their brain up? Say if they were dying of some sort of incurable disease? What if they wanted to end their own suffering and feed you at the same time?"
"I suppose if that set of circumstances presented itself, I would be more inclined to accept. I think I'd need some proof though. It sounds insensitive, I know but that way, I'd have evidence that they were telling the truth. I would have verification that they were really dying and not simply suicidal. Or insane."
"Fascinating. That gives me an idea."
The woman walked around the table and came up to me. Close. Her face a mere inches from mine, I could feel the heat radiating from her body. Swallowing hard, I took a step back. She snickered and tilted her head as she pushed a bit of hair away, that had fallen in front of her eyes.
"Show me some proof that your a zombie."
"How do you want me to do that?"
"Obviously, I don't want you to eat any brains but I seen your fight, I know what you look like when you go full on zombie. You can control that, right?"
"Sometimes."
"What about now, do you think you could control it right here and now, in this tavern?"
I didn't know. Not really. It was chancy. Pretty touch and go, precarious.
"Maybe."
"Well I think you can. So do it. Come on, literally no one is paying attention. No one but me and I want to see this happen. Please. Can you do that for me?"
Moving in closer, she smiled at me coyly and that's when I realized, I had no where left to go, the wall was right behind me. Pushing my back against it to keep as much space between us, I bit my lip and met her gaze. She looked up at me with such intent. With such a yearning. I felt myself caving before I even formulated the first syllable of a word.
"You need to back up. Just in case. If I do this, I don't want you to be too close. A precaution. To prevent any sort of possible disaster from occurring."
Smiling, she stepped back as I closed my eyes and silently prayed, for nothing bad to happen. From there, I let my thoughts and mind drift to that dark place. Where I kept the savage side of me hidden. Asleep and dormant to the world. Then I let myself go. I allowed that part of me to wake up and left its cage open, freeing it to the outside, where it could be seen, in all its hideous glory. The sensation of such a release was overwhelming and instantaneous. I felt it wash over me, overtaking my body like a tidal wave. The compulsive hunger underlining it all, ever present and undeniable, despite the fact that I ate earlier in the evening.
I restrained the craving, the best I could. Still I could smell the thing that I desired most in that moment. All around me. Brains. So many brains. The tavern was full of life. The insistent drone of pulses, the thud of hearts in chests and the chorus of breathing, from bodies playing hosts, to a delicious assortment of brains. I felt like a small child in a candy store. While the shopkeeper was asleep at his perch and there weren't any security cameras to capture acts of theft. Awww... man, get it together, Zane. This was good practice. Keep the monster on a leash, when it's out for a walk. Don't ruin the night out at the pub. The people around you don't want to die, so you can chow down on their cerebellums. With a heavy sigh, I opened my eyes. The girl gasped but then quickly giggled as she unwisely, came closer.
"Well... is it everything that you hoped for?"
My voice was deeper and far more scratchier, than usual. Somewhat hollow and distant sounding too. Like it was coming from somewhere beyond my throat. Somewhere past my physical form, not resonating from my body or being at all. Spooky but I guess that made sense, I was a ghoul, after all.
"Your eyes are so cool."
She beamed with absolute radiance. Like a true lover of the undead would only be able to do. To her I wasn't a monster, I was a marvel. My eyes - crimson scleras equipped with solid black irises that seemed to blend right into pupils, were... cool. I averted my gaze and shook my head, yanking the creature back to its confines, I internally replaced the shackles and grinned.
"Thanks."
"Thank you for letting me witness that up close."
Her hand was on my shoulder now, trailing down my leather jacket.
"So tell me... is everything dead and unresponsive? I haven't seen you breathe once since we've been chatting. Does that mean nothing works? Or are there exceptions?"
Oh no. I knew what she was getting at. Can the stiff get a stiff one? Yes, I can achieve an erection and quite a substantial one, at that. Not that I ever compared it to another man's wang while it was standing at attention but when I was alive, I never received any complaints. My guy always got the job done. And even though, he's been without work as of late, he still reminded me that he was there and available for whatever position would have him. With the exception that he only enjoyed gainful employment from women. Currently, he was making it known that he was indeed, ready to be hired. A distinctly undeniable state, she would discover this when her hand made the leap from coat to cock.
"I think I answered my own question."
A swift smirk accented her face as she leaned into me, bringing her lips to mine. She kissed me before I had even a second to cease her trajectory, in order to alternatively thwart her plan of action. Instead it all went exactly how she intended. As I found myself kissing her in return, almost immediately, my hand securing a place on the back of her neck, I continued forth with this process, hungrily. What can I say? It's been awhile, I got a little caught up in the moment.
"Making friends, are we?"
Harper's voice, interrupted like a bucket of ice water, dumped right on top of the heated moment of passion, with instantaneous results. Softly chuckling, I turned to face her. Watching as she placed two beers on the table, I helped myself to one of them and took a drink.
"Harper. This is... uh..."
That's right. I never got her name. Although, making out with a random stranger before obtaining a name, wasn't a first for me. In fact, back when I had a pulse, I was guilty of doing a whole lot more than kissing, without learning names.
"Emily Louise. Nice to meet you."
She reached over and shook Harper's hand, saving the day by introducing herself.
"Charmed, I'm sure. Nevertheless, still not enough for me to make out with you."
Harper laughed.
"Good thing Zane took care of that already."
Emily reached over and snatched up my phone from the table, quickly entering her number, she then set it back down and smiled.
"I have to get going. I've got an early day tomorrow. Zane. Call me."
Probably a bad idea. Considering this was someone that clearly wanted to sleep with me. Still I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was tempted. My eyes were practically glued to her ass as she walked away, shaking my head, I directed my focus back to Harper.
"God Zane, drool much."
"Oh please, you're one to talk. You have a girlfriend that you live with and you were practically eye fucking the bartender, while you talked to her."
"For free drinks. Which worked perfectly. Meanwhile, you were counting a strange lady's teeth, with your tongue. Wait. Did you infect her? Is she going to become a zombie because of that?"
Yeah. Harper was aware that I was a zombie. She confronted me, the day after my first match in the XWF and I revealed the truth. To my surprise, she didn't lose her shit. She actually handled the fact that I was a member of the undead, rather well. The news barely effected our friendship at all. The only difference was that she now knew that she shouldn't steal food from my plate. For fear that she might eat brains by accident. Believe me when I say, that used to take a real toll on me, back when she was clueless to my condition.
"I don't think so."
I didn't really know for sure, I hadn't any experience with kissing anyone, after the virus took me. Could I have contaminated her?
"Really I think she should be fine."
I stated, in a feeble attempt to reassure myself, while I silenced Harper's concern.
"I'll definitely find out when I call her."
"Real nice, Zane. You may have infected the poor woman but on the bright side, she'll have you right there to teach her the ropes, should she become a zombie."
"Seriously, I'm pretty certain that she'll be okay."
I wasn't all that sure but I was getting sick of Harper's badgering.
"Fine. Say that she is okay... that kissing her, didn't pass on the disease. Without question, sleeping with her, will positively do the trick."
"Who says that I plan on sleeping with her?"
"You're telling me that you don't want to have sex with her?"
"I didn't say that but I know better than to take that risk, I wouldn't purposely subject her to becoming a zombie because I wanted to get my rocks off. I do have self control, you know?"
"Clearly. This whole conversation was spawned by your ability to contain yourself."
"That's not fair. She started it. She kissed me."
"Your reasoning is so substantial and strong, it's practically made out of solid iron. There's no way you could have avoided the situation, if she's the one that kissed you."
"It happened so fast, I didn't anticipate it."
"I bet you couldn't. Just like you'll be absolutely powerless to stop her from doing anything else. Except next time, she'll slip and wind up on your dick somehow. Right? Yeah. I'm right."
"That won't happen."
"Sure it won't. Look, do humanity a favor and double up on the condoms, when that happens, okay sport?"
Taking a sip of her beer, Harper rolled her eyes.
"Assuming she isn't already a zombie when it does."
Instead of denying what Harper suggested, I drank my beer and remained quiet. She was right. The chances of something happening between Emily and I, were high. If only there was a way to eliminate the danger, without doubling up on the prophylactics. Hmmm... I wonder...