I wish I could remember who I really am. But I can't. Because I'm just a corpse.
I must have been someone important. I don't remember much from the world before, but I know the clothing I'm wearing must have been from some designer before the harsh reality of this world took a toll on them.
There is also a silver ring in nearly perfect condition on the ring finger of my right hand. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I can almost feel a sensation pulsating from the ring, almost as if it was containing some form of life.
From the glimpses of myself I catch in dirt-covered mirrors, I wasn't the worst looking corpse around, however I wouldn't consider myself the luckiest by any means even if all of my limbs and organs are intact and my blond hair isn't as dirty as it could be.
Something sets me apart from most of the corpses, and not in a good way.
My…hunting habits are unusual compared to a normal corpse I guess you could say. I try to make the human's death quick and painless and then I eat. Most corpse enjoy keeping their meal alive for as long as they can. I guess you could say it's their version of fresh food.
I never spare my food's brain. I don't want them to come back as one of us, as a corpse. I often find myself wishing my attacker ate mine, sparing me this 'life' of a walking hell.
Other corpses insist on increasing our numbers, as the humans have begun banding together making themselves stronger and more difficult to attack.
I don't want to kill people, but there's really no way around it. I guess that's what sets me apart. I can almost feel.
The majority of us corpses have made a home out a run down college campus on the outskirts of the city. I can't remember how I got here. I often wonder if I was a student here before.
After aimlessly shuffling through the campus one evening, I discovered a music room in one of the abandoned buildings. There's a dust covered piano in the center of the room and several other instruments can be found throughout the room. I isolate myself here most of the time, like I am now.
I sit at the piano. I try to play. My fingers itch to pick up a melody I must have known from my past life. Instead an ugly tune echoes through the room as my hand heavily falls onto the keys in an ungodly manor.
If I could sigh, I'd sigh very deeply right now.
That's when I feel it. A tingling sensation from the pit of my stomach spreads throughout my body. I need to eat.
I slowly shuffle away from the piano and out of the room…down the hall…out the door. I see him in the sad excuse for a courtyard He's my best friend. I don't know his full name, but he knows it started with an N. I wish I had that much of a name.
He sees me, too, shuffling along to meet me half way.
I grunt and manage to move my arm in an ungraceful wave-like motion and he does the same.
So here we stand, swaying slightly back and forth making meaningless sounds in an attempt to have a conversation with one another. Sometimes, rarely, we manage to say actual words.
"H—hungry" I spit out.
"D—dude." he almost breathes deeply, clearly struggling to form words. "S—same."
I grunt, motioning toward the school entrance. N nods and adjusts his red baseball cap, clearly a human habit he carried along with him in this afterlife.
We manage to form a decently sized group as we make our way toward the city. It's nearly mid-afternoon by the time we make it to where the city really starts.
The humans are smart, given that they've built a giant wall around the heart of the city to keep us out, but they aren't that smart. They still can't defend themselves entirely. Sure they have weapons, but they also still have fear. We use that to our advantage.
The wall may keep us out, but it can't keep them in.
There's stuff outside the walls that they need. They make supply runs, we make food runs. It's a cycle, a predator and a prey cycle.
We're shuffling by a small food market when we smell them. I think the letters are CVS, but I can't read. It doesn't matter much now. We follow our noses into the store. I can hear them.
I may not have much of a brain, but I can still understand them.
"We have to move, Nate. Now." It was a female voice, stern yet deliciously sweet.
"We need to get the supplies first." I assume that would be Nate speaking.
"She's right, Nate. We don't have the numbers for a fight." Another female voice spoke out, this one carried more sass in her voice. But she said what we needed to hear.
We rounded the corner of an isle.
As soon as they saw us, bullets went flying. A corpse just in front of me was shot in the head, stumbling back and knocking me sideways as the rest of the pack bombarded the humans.
I propped myself up on my elbow in an attempt to get up.
That's when I saw her.
I swear time stopped and it was only the two of us in that store.
Her jet black hair was loosely tied back into two pig tails. She was wearing a white t-shirt, a faded green jacket and ripped, form fitting jeans that were tucked in to what I want to say were combat boots.
She wasn't even looking at me, but I was lost in her blue eyes.
She had a determined look on her face as she cocked her gun and aimed it at a member of the pack.
I wanted her alive. Nothing else mattered.
I got up much faster than I thought and staggered toward her, but a jolting force in my right shoulder pushed me back a few steps. I have been shot.
I turned toward my right to see a male with burgundy hair tied back in a bun standing on top of one of the isle dividers.
"Take that, mother—"
I had never moved so quickly before, but I grabbed the guys ankles and pulled him down. He didn't stand much of chance.
I smashed his head against the ground multiple times. I needed the brain.
Forgive me, I forgot to mention earlier. When we eat the brains, we can dream. Well, we can see parts of their memories. It's as close to dreaming as we can get. It's as close as to being human as I can get.
I shove some of the man's brains into my mouth. I know, gross. But as I shoot into this man's mind I see her.
"What do you think of this one, Nate?" the girl smiles as she shows Nate a drawing of a dress.
"Beautiful, Mari" he says "but not as beautiful as it would be on you."
She's a heavy presence in this man's mind. I need more. I shove as much of his brains as I can into the pockets of my jacket and pants. I get up and shuffle around the corner. There's a number of corpses on the ground, but some of them are feeding on their prey.
If I had a heart beat, it'd be racing. I had to find her. I looked around, eyes hunting for her. A gun shot to my left caught my attention. A member of the pack fell to the ground, revealing the jet-black haired beauty with fear draining the blood from her face. She's on the floor, but she's safe.
I wipe as much grime off of me as I can as I make my way toward her.
She sees me. She reaches into her boot and throws a knife at me. It lands near my recent gun shot wound. Ironic.I pull the knife out with ease.
I keep moving.
She curls further into herself.
I crouch down as I reach her. I summon all my strength to form words.
"M—Mari."
Any blood that's left completely drains from her face as her blue eyes pierce into mine. It's then that I notice how quiet the store has gotten. The living are dead, the dead are feasting, the dead are living.
I dig a finger from my left hand into the knife wound, gathering whatever you'd call corpse blood and I smear it across her neck and chest. She doesn't smell like a human. Good.
"K—keep. S—a—safe."
I stood up, lowering my hand in an attempt to be a gentleman and help her up.
She stood on her own, slowly, eyeing me carefully. In my peripheral vision I see N and the remaining members of the hunting pack making their way toward us.
"F—follow." My voice is low.
She did.
