Written by Daniel H. Freezerburn.
This is a semi-fanfictional story including characters from the film "Return Of The Living Dead" that does not fit anywhere into the timeline or fictional universe.
"You ever think about getting killed?" said Trash, the girl punker extreme red hair-dye queen. Wearing little more than tights, boots, and a vest, she was no Barbie doll.
"I try not to think about dying..." said Corporal Ton L. Syndrome.
They sat atop the overpass looking down upon the highway at all the passing vehicles stuck in a traffic jam. Corporal Ton L. Syndrome was not actually anyone important, or even in the military. It was but a clever name he dubbed himself to mask the hollow shell of a human he was and give himself character. He sat with his face quadruple-pierced; nose to eyelid, ear to lip, lip to other ear, mouth to nose, chain-link connections to each facial cavity. His combat boots hung loosely over the edge of the overpass, dangling over a conga line of delivery trucks. He bore the jacket of a fallen soldier, iron-on patches of bands anywhere from Crass to Crucifucks, neither of which he had actually even heard. His undershirt, a purposely-ripped black wife beater. He wore the costume of a strong individualistic anarchist youth, but under it all, he was quite complacent with the way the world was and had no desire or drive to make any changes.
Trash threw a rock into the traffic and hit the roof of a Chevy truck. Corporal spit upon a convertible and hit the driver square on the head.
"Fucking yuppie. Fucking asshole. Look at them. Look at all the suits on the way to their fucking jobs, fucking capitalism. Fucking robots," Corporal said, gritting his teeth. He ran a hand through his spikey hair.
"You sure love four-letter words, don't you?" Trash replied. "And you don't really care, do you? I mean, you work at a fucking K-Mart."
"Hey, fuck you, bitch. It's a summer job. I gotta save up, you see? I gotta make some dough if I'm gonna make it in this fucked-up world," Corporal shouted, jaw jutting out like a living cartoon. He gave her a light shove, touching her breasts in the process.
"Feel anything you like?" Trash joshed. She got to her feet and wiped the non-existent dust from her pants. "Come on, let's ditch this pop stand."
"Where do you want to go?" Corporal said, angrily hitting the guard railing with his gloved hands. "There's nowhere to go in this wasteland."
"Aw, quit your whining and get your lazy ass up," Trash taunted.
They walked along the railroad tracks, nothing but trees on either side. Corporal stopped to take a piss while Trash picked her ear.
"I got this band thing today," Trash said. "You wouldn't like it, it's too raw for you."
Corporal zipped up his fly and came up behind Trash, grabbing her waist. "Too raw for me, eh? I like it raw."
"Oh right, needledick. Nice try," Trash pulled away from Corporal.
Trash met with her bandmates that day, who were already smacked out and nearly unconscious when she found them.
"Wake the fuck up, we have shit to do," Trash yelled, kicking the guitarist, Mofo, in the ribs.
They all hastily got to their feet and stretched their arms in unison.
"Trash, I was just dreaming about you," Freddy, the bassist, said. "You and Tina were standing on a pile of corpses."
Trash scoffed. "Yeah, I had a dream about you too. In it, you were a decent bassist."
Freddy gave Trash the finger.
"What are we doing?" the drummer, Devil, asked while yawning. He grabbed his sticks and started tapping the rim of the snare.
"Let's do 'Rape Bitch' and then go right into 'Vomit Face'," Trash said, grabbing the microphone off it's stand.
Trash noticed Tina on the floor by the furnace.
"What have we got here?" Trash asked Freddy.
"She wanted to try some and then she got sick," Freddy said.
"Alright, fuck, let's do it," Trash shouted. "One, two, three, four!"
Devil began drumming at around a billion beats per minute. Mofo and Freddy tore the shit out of their guitars. Trash let out her most guttural screams and yelps, firing out lyrics like a machine gun.
Tina twitched on the floor. She let out a whimper.
After a minute and thirty seconds the band had finished both songs.
"Alright, we sound like shit!" Trash said.
"I think we sounded great," Freddy said. He ran the pick up the fretboard.
Tina shook violently on the floor. Trash approached her and knelt down beside her twitching frame.
"I don't feel so good," Tina whispered. Trash sat Tina upright and looked into her eyes.
"You'll be alright," Trash said warmly. Freddy joined Trash and Tina on the floor and wrapped his jacket around Tina.
"We don't have fucking time for this!" Mofo shouted. "Did you forget we have a show this Friday?" He unplugged his guitar and set it against the wall.
Tina began drooling before ultimately vomiting directly onto Trash's chest.
"I'm sorry," Tina said. She began crying and buried her face in Freddy's arms.
"It's alright, I like the filth," Trash said. She removed her top completely, throwing it into the corner.
"It's getting hot in here!" Devil shouted from behind his drum set.
"I'm going to take her upstairs and get her cleaned off," Freddy said, promptly getting to his feet and hoisting Tina up into his arms. He disappeared up the stairs.
Meanwhile, down the street, a pickup truck swerved and nearly hit a dog. The driver, one Horacio Nunez, was intoxicated and hauling a top secret canister in the back. In this canister contained a petrified corpse covered in a strange chemical substance. Once Horacio made a hairy turn, the canister was propelled from the back of the truck and launched right at the very house where Trash and her band were practicing. The canister hit the garage door and popped right open, spilling out the gooey corpse and a puff of brown smoke. It took a while to happen, but as the sunlight shone bright upon the driveway, the corpse twitched. It twitched and it got to its feet. And where do you think it decided to go then?
Freddy was upstairs running the bath for Tina, who sat curled in a ball shivering in the center of the tub.
"It's going to be okay, Tina," he was saying as he ran the sponge over her pale body.
"I...just don't see why you guys would do that to yourselves," Tina managed to say.
"We're morons," Freddy said. "We're no good weasels."
Freddy heard footsteps coming up the stairs and Trash appeared at the bathroom door.
"Step aside, I'm getting in." She was fully naked except for a cross necklace. She pushed Freddy aside and climbed in the tub next to Tina.
"Oh, alright, whatever," Freddy said.
"I want bubbles in here. I don't see any bubbles," Trash demanded.
Freddy went to the cupboard and grabbed some shampoo.
"I dunno, try this," he said. He handed the bottle to Trash, who proceeded to pour a good portion of it onto Tina's tits.
"Oh, whoops. How'd that happen?" Trash said sarcastically. She ran her hands over Tina's chest, smearing the shampoo across her torso.
"Oh god, what are you doing?" Tina said, holding her head.
"What are you doing?" Trash responded. She leaned over and kissed Tina on the lips.
"Trash, come on," Freddy shouted. "Leave her alone, she's very sick!"
"We're all a little sick, Freddy. We're all a little twisted. I just let it show more," Trash laughed. She ran her index finger from Tina's chest down, past her belly button, between her legs.
"Hey, cut it out!" Freddy yelled, pulling Trash's hand away. "What's gotten into you?"
"I dunno, Freddy boy. Do you want to get into me?" Trash asked flirtatiously.
There was a loud knocking coming from the back door and everyone froze. In the basement, Mofo and Devil were jamming on their instruments.
Freddy got to his feet. "I'm gonna go see who that is," he said, and walked out.
"It better not be Corporal," Trash said to no one in particular. "I can't stand him right now."
Tina turned the temperature dial hotter and moved closer to the shower head.
Freddy opened the back door and peered outside. Not a person in sight. He ducked back inside and shut the door. That's when he heard the glass break and rushed into the front room, stopping dead in his tracks once he saw it. The corpse had broken in through the window and was picking itself up from the ground. When it saw Freddy, it bared its teeth, a full set mind you, and let out a wail.
"Shit," Freddy said. He bolted towards the open bathroom door. "This is serious, get dressed. We've got trouble."
-The Governor's Mansion, 3:34 PM-
Governor Riley sipped his hot coffee and flipped through the tabloids, looking for any mention of himself. After a few minutes, he set the paper and the cup on the side table and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and reached inside, pulling out a bag of white powder which he then proceeded to stick his face in. Then he took a big swig of bourbon and put everything back in the drawer.
There was a knock on the door, and Governor Riley sniffed and coughed before calling them in. The door swung open and General Farvers walked in.
"We lost it," General Farvers spoke grimly. "Somewhere along the way, we lost it."
"Who was carrying it?" Governor Riley asked, rubbing his nose.
General Farvers stepped into the hall and brought back by the arm Horacio, who looked like he'd seen better days. General Farvers through Horacio to the ground. Governor Riley jumped from behind his desk and stooped over Horacio, who lay in the fetal position on top of the Governor's decorative persian rug.
"Where'd you lose it, boy?" Governor Riley asked sternly, giving Horacio a light kick. "I want answers!"
Horacio choked on his words but managed to mumble, "I don't remember."
Governor Riley looked over at General Farvers, they nodded, and the General lifted Horacio to his feet, holding his arms behind him. The Governor took a swing at Horacio and hit him square in the jaw, blood drooling from his mouth.
"Where is it, hombre?" the Governor shouted.
"I told you, I don't know. I had it, then it was gone," Horacio insisted.
Horacio was thrown against the desk, his arms twisted behind him.
"I trusted you with it, Nunez," Governor Riley said, leaning down so his face was level with Horacio's. "You gave me your word you would get it safely over to the plant. Why would you disrespect me like that?"
"I don't know, sir. I swear, I wouldn't lie to you," Horacio cried, squinting his eyes.
Governor Riley nodded to General Farvers, who put his boot up onto Horacio's back, still grabbing both his arms and pulling hard.
"If you don't tell us where it is, you and your family will be really sorry," Governor Riley said as he pulled a rifle out of the top drawer of the desk.
Trash and Tina scrambled to get dressed. Freddy was in the bedroom down the hall looking for a blunt object. The corpse stumbled and limped down the hall toward the bathroom door, oozing from the mouth.
"Shit," Freddy grunted, pushing through the mess of hoarded decoratives on the bedroom table. He spotted a ceramic gnome statuette and grabbed it, running back into the hallway.
Tina and Trash exited the bathroom at the same time Freddy reached the opened doorway. The corpse was only a few feet away. Freddy raised his arm and smashed the gnome statuette into the corpse's head, driving it deep inside its skull. The corpse backed away a few steps, grabbing its head and trying to figure out what had just happened to it.
Tina bolted from the bathroom and pushed past the zombie, running down into the basement to warn Devil and Mofo.
The corpse looked Freddy dead in the eyes and smiled.
"Eat shit," Freddy said, dodging past the corpse. It tried to latch onto Freddy's arm but he was too quick for the undead monstrosity. That's when it saw Trash, who had moved back into the bathroom and was trying to open the window, which was built in such a way so that it only opened a certain amount.
The corpse lumbered into the room, stopping a few feet away from Trash and looking her up and down. Trash was trying to muster a scream but sound would not escape. In the garage she could hear Freddy knocking things over, probably trying to look for some kind of weapon.
The corpse reached out and grabbed Trash by the collar of her vest and pulled her towards him. She flailed and kicked but the corpse pulled her still closer.
To be continued...