Wednesday, December 22, 2010

SHORT STORY: Zombie Santa Must Die! Part 4



Fay Campbell - Log Entry - December 25, 2012 - 4:06 AM

My suspicions of the origins of the zombie virus have been confirmed. The destruction of this world, the obliteration of the human species, everything that has happened in the past two years all began in the North Pole. One man, Santa Claus, is responsible. How I know this I do not yet understand.

Eddie is gone. I do not believe he is dead yet. I don’t know why but I just know it. I must tread carefully. Santa Claus, the zombified remains of the holly jolly cheer filled man, has taken him. I will follow him, face him head on. As the saying goes, perhaps if I cut the head off the snake the rest of the body will die. Meaning I kill Santa, I kill the zombies. But that’s wishful thinking. I just want my brother back. I regret not being there for him this past year. It was hard on both of us but he didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated him. If I ever

I shot down one of Santa’s reindeer. Fortunately it is still alive...kind of. Before it woke up, I pulled all of its teeth, just in case it decides to turn on me I can avoid being supper. I found an old saddle and harness in the barn. I should be able to make it fit. As soon as I finish this final log entry I’ll pack up as many guns as I can and let if fly me to its home, to Santa Claus. I have a check to write, I need to pay him back for what he has done to me.

I can feel it inside me, the darkness he has given me slowly eating me alive. What I am, who I am, what I want to be is steadily being taken away from me. I don’t know how to kill this evil. I don’t know who or what I’m turning in to. But I can feel it inside me. Burning. I can hear it inside me. Screaming. But before it has a chance to kill me, there’s one thing I must do.

I have to kill Santa Claus.

The North Pole - December 25, 2012 - 5:56 PM

      Rudolph the Undead Reindeer descended from the sky and gracefully landed at the foot of a magnificent mountain. Fay got off the back of Rudolph and pulled out her side arm. “Thanks for the ride Rudy.” She put the pistol to the side of Rudolph’s head and then…well let’s just say his nose won’t be blinking anytime soon.
       She reholstered her weapon, looking down at the reindeer. She gazed deep into its body. Her nostrils flared, she could smell the rotting meat barely hanging onto its brittle skeleton. Her mouth began to salivate as the hunger inside her swelled like a balloon, ready to burst. She took one step towards the creature…
      …and stopped. Shock swam over her face. Never in her life had she ever felt so out of control. She wanted to EAT the thing. She was ready to get down on all fours and dig in elbow deep. No silverware needed here. Finish your plate before you go to bed.
      She stepped back, away from Rudolph. That’s all it was, a stupid reindeer. A stupid dead reindeer. Not dinner. She repeated in her head several times, “I am not a zombie, I am not a zombie, I am not a zombie…” until she had convinced herself that she wasn’t, and never will be, a zombie.
      At last she regained her confidence and returned her attention to the mountain. It was but a large hill on an otherwise baron flatland. Snow made it difficult to see the outline but when the wind died down long enough you could make out the steep slope of trees that made up its outer perimeter. They converged at the peak, which may have come to a razor sharp point at one time in the distant past but it had since plateaued, flattened one square mile at the top. On this plateau was Fay’s desination. Fay’s destiny. Santa’s workshop.
      She plucked her wide array of weapons that were still strapped to Rudolph’s back and hung them over her good shoulder, not giving the consumption of rotting meat a second thought. She turned towards the mountain and inhaled deeply. She let the cold air into her lungs, felt it circulate throughout her body. Felt it convert and converge with the evil inside her. She hoped that perhaps the air molecules may attach themselves to the virus inside her and when she exhaled not only would the air leave her body but the evil along with it. She exhaled. No change.
      She let out a disappointing sigh. “Wishful thinking.”  With that, she began her trek up the mountainside. The journey wasn’t as treacherous as she made herself believe that it would be. She was on guard the entire trip, wary that death lurked around every corner. But there was none. Just snow and trees. After two hours of hiking she reached the top.
      She took her final steps out of the snow and set foot for the first time in months onto a paved road. It had recently been plowed here. The paved path lead not straight across but downward into a valley that sunk down the mountain top. She could see Santa’s workshop from here. Upon closer inspection she noticed it was not a workshop at all but a fortress!
      Surrounding the compound was a glistening golden fence that rose twenty feet high. Every foot of the fence had a spiked post threatening to impale any intruders foolish enough to attempt to climb over it. If any intruders did in fact get past the gate they would be bombarded with a cache of booby traps. Christmas trees flowered open and converted to launchable saw blades, giant candy cane decorations shot out ten feet of flames in all directions from their curvy ends, and surrounding Santa’s home, a gumdrop mine field littered the ground as a final defense.
      What lay at the center of Santa’s fortress wasn’t so much a home but a giant tower. Blackened windows twisted up its outer skin, following a red and white decorated banner from the base of the tower to its pointed tops. It was at the top where Santa most assuredly would be. That is where Fay set her sights.
      Fay marched down the path to the gate. Her eyes strayed from the path to the treeline, keeping a watchful eye on any unexpected surprises. So far so good.
      Shortly, she reached the door of the golden gates. Now that she was close enough to touch them she could see that not only were the gates made of gold but also jewel encrusted giving them an even brighter glow.
      She looked up at the towering gates, and then looked all around her for any other ways into the compound. “Alright Fay, how are you going to get in?”
      She might as well have said Open Sesame because no sooner did she finish her inquiry and the gates opened.

Author's Notes:

Part 4 should be a lot more than it is. It was really at this point that I struggled with the story. I wanted to do a lot of things and there was still a lot of things that I wanted to do so it was this part that suffered the most. What should be included here is a lot more of the journey...I mostly had to summarize it in the log entry. I wanted a lot more action going up the fighting armies of undead elves or some crazy shit. But I knew I was running up against a word limit so I had to make that dreaded decision to pull it and wrap it up with what is here.

And I really regret not putting more interaction between Santa and Fay's brother. There should be a scene here...however short...between them. Something along the lines of Santa chaining Eddie to a wall and Eddie shouting at him, "She'll come! Fay will come for me!" and Santa replying, "I'm counting on it." So keep that in mind for the next couple of Parts.


  1. I liked Fay almost losing control. That was good. As for having to truncate this part, it DOES have the advantage of getting Fay to where she's going.

    I remember seeing a DVD extra with Quentin Tarantino about Pulp Fiction and the scene with Butch in the back seat of the taxi cab as he was being driven away from the fight. That scene was originally longer and Tarantino and the editor (I think it was the editor) were both of the opinion that it was the best edited scene of the movie but, in the end, they chopped it because they had to get Butch to where he was going and not disturb the flow of the story.