(Started this here, and here, and adding to it. It’s not a complete story yet, more like a string of scenes to stitch together as I go along. There is something incredibly fun about writing this way. It’s completely liberating, writing as you think, almost like letting the rough draft run wild. Anyway… just thought I’d play around with it a little.)

Part III

She was deathly still, laying on the floor in front of me, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Oh, I know how it looked. I had the candlestick in my hand, raised above me. A candlestick of all things- what am I, Professor Plum in the library? I would have laughed if the cop in the doorway wasn’t pointing a gun at my head.

“Drop your weapon,” he shouted.

I tried to appear nonthreatening, for what it was worth. “Sure,” I said calmly. “But you might want to let me finish this. She’s about to get extremely cranky.”

He looked down at Eternally Sleeping Beauty, and back at me, crazy homicidal guy. I guess it wasn’t much of a contest. I didn’t think it prudent to bring up the fact that you can’t break someone’s neck with a candlestick. He didn’t seem open to small talk.

“I said, drop your-,

I didn’t need to look down to know why he froze in his tracks. I sighed. No doubt, he noticed the faint twitchings of the figure on the floor. Well, here we go again, I thought to myself. I started the mental countdown to all hell breaking loose. Ten, nine…

I looked at the officer in pity. I’m sure when he woke up this morning, he didn’t expect to take a trip to bizarro world before lunchtime.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I tell the cop. “Your assessment of the situation was correct at the time. She was dead. Not,” I added, “that I killed her.” Technically, anyway, I amended silently. Eight, seven…

He didn’t seem to hear me, which was understandable. It was hard to concentrate as the previously dead groped about, her neck wobbling horrifically on her shoulders. Six, five…

The body on the floor seized upward, and I backed up a foot, holding the candlestick firmly in hand. Professor Plum, indeed. It was downright embarassing. I eyed the officer’s nine mil enviously. Four, three…

“You’re familiar with zombies, right, Officer?” As if on cue, she slowly shuffled to her feet, blinking solid black eyes in the bright light. “You know, brainhungry, slow-walking, kinda stupid?”

She turned at the sound of my voice. I gulped. Curse it all, if she didn’t smile right at me.

Two, one…

“Well, this is much, much worse.”

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