Stumbling through the street, gurgling the blood of his many victims, Stanley the zombie drags his rotten body as fast as he can towards the glorious scent of fresh meat coming from a nearby alley.
Stanley wonders what it could be, he hopes it is not a rat or a homeless person because they taste like warmed up shit. Just because he is a member of the walking dead these days doesn’t mean that he has no standards.
As he limps closer to his next meal, he notices another shuffling figure close-by, who seems to be in even worse condition than Stanley. This new arrival has two missing arms and his ankle has twisted the wrong way around, Stanley by comparison looks practically human.
Stanley’s skin may be peeling a little and his eyes are pale and full of cataracts but at least he is mostly still intact. The biggest wound on his body is the bite that killed him, right on the left side of his neck, this had been inflicted by one of his patients a long time ago.
See before he was Stanley the Zombie, he was a young intern at his local hospital. When the news report about the dead coming back to life had come through. Stanley had been with the family of an elderly gentleman who had just passed away. When the apparently deceased man walked into the waiting room, Stanley had almost died of fright. The family had run to their relative, thanking god for this miracle, but this was no act of god.
They were massacred in seconds, ripped apart due to his new-found hunger for flesh. Stanley hadn’t even attempted to run, he was frozen in fear and cried as the old man ripped open his throat. He bled out quickly and this was the end of his human existence.
Although Stanley can recall his memories of being a human being, and retains his human intelligence, his body is controlled by his base instinct which is to feed on the bodies of humans and animals who are still living.
In the early days, there was plenty to eat but now pickings are slim and that’s why when Stanley picked up this scent he raced to get to dinner before anyone else. But now he had competition.
The no-armed newcomer, seemed familiar to Stanley now that he had come closer and Stanley recognised him as Nigel from down the street. Stanley tried to converse but all that came out was “Rarrrrggghhhh”, his usual greeting.
The last time Stanley had seen Nigel was the morning he had eaten Nigel’s wife in front of him, she tasted amazing, women always did taste better. Nigel had been overcome with grief but, before Nigel had had the chance to bash Stanley’s skull open with a table lamp, a fellow flesh eater had torn his arm off. Stanley did not know what had happened to his other arm and now that Nigel was trapped inside his own brain just as he was, he would never know.
Maybe Nigel had managed to gain some control of his own body and had recognised Stanley as he launched himself upon him now. As a general rule the zombie population don’t attack each other. But here this chap was trying to rip out the remainder of Stanley’s throat, knocking him to the floor in the process.
With Nigel upon him Stanley had looked down the alleyway and noticed that there wasn’t a rat or a homeless person there. It was a man, in soldier clothes and carrying an assault rifle.
The soldier seemed just as confused as Stanley at the scene in front of him but lifted his rifle pointed it at Nigel’s head and blew his brain’s right out of his skull.
I would thank you thought Stanley, but I know what’s coming next. sure enough the soldier had pointed his rifle at the remaining zombie, the perfect target prone on the floor. Stanley’s life and afterlife flashed before his eyes and he wondered do zombies go to hell or do they go to … (Bang).