A Mixed Bag of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

moved. He heard moaning and the shuffling of feet. With much effort, he turned and saw two zombies coming toward him. One was small, like a child, the other, a woman, with stringy golden hair. Teddy and Mommy, he knew. They had been in the house after all, just not the way he’d imagined.
    Panic filled Remington’s body. He was trembling with fear. He’d been undead for two hundred and five years. He couldn’t go out like this, bested by a little girl and her dumbass father.
    But there was nothing he could do. His strength was all but gone. He could only laugh, the action turning hysterical as the zombies approached. He was laughing so loudly he thought he might go insane, that was until the zombies began tearing into his flesh and devouring him. Then all he did was scream.

 
     
     
    It’s Nice Not To Have To Share
     
     
    I stuck the nail file into my sister’s temple, poked her a few times to make sure she was dead. I knew she was gone, her lifeless eyes staring at nothing as they bulged from their sockets, but it’s always a good idea to be thorough.
    The prosecution, my neighbors, newspaper reporters (via the articles), even my Dad, believe I’m evil, but I can assure you that I’m not. My mother’s too medicated to have a true opinion so I’ll leave her out of this. The only other person to substantiate my claim that I am not evil is my psychologist. As a Harvard educated man—the degrees hanging from the walls of his office telling me so—he doesn’t believe in evil.
    I have supporters, people that truly understand my plight and know how hard it was for me and my sister, Sally. None of them, of course, had the courage to do what I did. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her with all my heart and with every breath I inhaled. We had a bond unlike normal sisters, but it was that bond that inevitably broke us.
    Everywhere I went, she was there like a freckle on my nose. I, we, never had time apart. We always watched the same television programs, each having to endure the other’s bad taste as we took turns with the remote. Showers were terrible, intrusive, to say the least—most people using that time to unwind, wake-up, refresh or pleasure themselves. Not me. Not with her always there.
    Going to sleep wasn’t much better. Countless times I lay exhausted, wanting to drift off into a soundless slumber, but she wasn’t tired and kept me up, always talking or needing the light on. I punched her in the face once to show her I wasn’t playing around, but it was like hitting myself—her pain was mine. I learned to live with her, but the final straw was pulled when Gerri, my true love, came into our lives.
    Gerri and I had an immediate connection. I had never believed in love at first sight, but the clichéd saying proved to be true. We fell deeply in love.
    Gerri was beautiful, full-figured, and curvy like a back mountain road, but with the muscle-tone of a professional dancer. She had luscious full lips, perfectly shaped as if sculpted from Cupid himself. Her skin was smooth, like the finest Mulberry silk, and had the hue of fine Italian porcelain.
    Gerri was a genuine soul, looking at what a person was on the inside. She was kind-hearted and selfless, spending a good portion of every week with the elderly at St. Peter’s Memorial hospital, making sure they weren’t alone on birthdays and holidays.
    My jokes were corny, or just not very amusing, but she always laughed at them, making me feel special.
    My sister and Gerri got along well, and that was important because Sally and I were always together. With my being a lesbian, and Sally liking men, we had to come up with a deal.
    Whenever Gerri came over I would wait until Sally fell asleep before we made love. The same went for my sister when she had a man over—they would wait until I was asleep. She was my sister and as much as a man’s penis made my skin crawl, I accepted her heterosexual desires and needs. And as strange as the situation might’ve