Ch.3

A few days had passed since Sherri had first made that odd noise and she hadn't stopped. If anything she was getting louder.

On more than one occasion, Terri had to pretend it was her making the horrible sound. She was sure her dad thought she was going crazy, though at least he was at work today. Terri was meant to be at school herself but she hadn't left the house since Sherri was dragged back to the world of the living. Terri hadn't been counting but she could swear that Sherri just broke the world record for the longest time spent squatting in place.

Far from how movies made them seem, zombies weren't very scary, or even interesting. Sherri was completely passive, only occasionally staring at Terri. She had no interest in playing games or even watching anything else in the room, she only had the mildest interest in Terri.

Usually, it wouldn't have bothered Terri too much—she was used to spending time with her sister in silence. Being able to do nothing together and not get bored was one of the most rewarding parts of having a bond like theirs.

There was no familiar spark between them this time, however.

The tension (or was it tedium?) of watching over an undead sibling was shattered by a sudden noise that made Terri jump. When it happened again, she realized it was just the doorbell. After a third time, she decided to go and answer it. It would have been more suspicious if she hadn't and it wasn't like Sherri was going to suddenly spring to life in the next minute or so. Though she certainly hoped that could happen.

"Oh… Hello," Terri groaned. She couldn't pretend to be anything but disheartened when she saw who was at the door. Before all of this, she used to be so good at pretending.

"Oh, hi… Uh," Milhouse started, then muttered something that sounded vaguely like 'Erri' as he fumbled with a stack of papers. He didn't seem to notice the few that dropped. "Mr Flanders told me to deliver this stuff. It's homework, y'know, since you've been a truant this week."

"So what are you doing out of school?" Terri shot back. It was only midday at the latest.

"Well, our class went to the zoo and they excused me 'cos I'm allergic to lions, zebras, monkeys, mascots, crocodiles and public bathrooms," he stated with a bizarre pride, "So… What are you doin'?"

Oh my god, he's making small talk… And he's doing that thing with his eyebrows! Ewww!

Terri wasn't the only one displeased with Milhouse's intrusion on her life. Sherri didn't keep it to herself nearly as well—possibly a side effect of being undead. A hideous shriek tore through the air and Terri nearly hit the roof. If Milhouse had been standing under one he would have been clinging to it.

"W-what was that!?" Milhouse asked, with his typical bravery.

"Um, my tummy? I'm really hungry," Terri lied, giving her stomach a little pat with both hands.

Even Milhouse didn't buy that.

"It sounds like a scary movie! You've been watching Boobarella's Screamathon this whole time haven't you?" Milhouse asked, with his arms folded indignantly. His squint might have been piercing if his eyes weren't already ridiculously beady.

"Seriously? I hate those movies you-" Another shriek cut her off and stopped both their hearts in perfect sync.

"Yeah! Yeah, that's from Space Mutants Thirteen, the Next Generation's Revenge!" Milhouse proclaimed, marching to the door in that self-satisfied way he did when anything went his way. "Just wait until Mr Flanders hears about this!"

"Hey! No, don't go in there!" Terri yelled, gripping his arm just as he yanked the door open. Milhouse was a weakling yet Terri was hardly Heracles herself, being smaller than most of her class. "Why… don't you… get lost… you creep!"

Unfortunately for her, she couldn't hold him back any longer and unfortunately for him, the sudden change in force sent him tumbling down the stairs.

"Milhouse!" she cried out, only getting a groan in response. With the lights off it was too dark to see down there, it was as if Milhouse had vanished into the void. "Um, are you okay?" Remembering what happened to the last girl who showed sympathy to his injuries, she added "I still think you're a creep, by the way!"

There was no answer this time, but there was a different sound, a series of slaps that were getting slightly louder with every step. It couldn't have been Milhouse—If she remembered correctly, he was wearing shoes.

And then there was nothing.

"Huh..?" Milhouse uttered, still disoriented from his rough descent, "what's the big idea, Terri?" she was confused for a moment. He clearly wasn't calling up to her, yet...

Oh no!

All of a sudden there was a sickening crunch and a choking gasp that sent Terri almost falling over backwards in shock. And then another crunch, and another, and another. Terri cringed harder with each crunch, practically scrunching into a ball by the time it stopped. After she broke out of her shock she rushed down to the basement.

There was barely any signs of Milhouse any more. Half a pair of shattered glasses, an inhaler and a few scraps of clothing were all that was left. And over it stood Sherri, staring down at the evidence.

Oh no, no no no no NO NO NO NO!

"Sherri!" Terri screamed, backing against the stair rail, "W-what was that for?"

This wasn't supposed to happen! Nothing like it! She had only wanted to fix one of God's mistakes! Terri might not have directly killed Milhouse nor had any intent to but it still felt like murder to her.

Terri should have been running for the hills. Or trying to find that rifle her dad often claimed to have somewhere, or getting something heavy—or anything.

She didn't, though.

Terri couldn't put her finger on it but something instinctive told her she wasn't in any danger. After all, Sherri never attacked her, even with all the opportunity in her short undeath so far. It couldn't have been pickiness, was she even capable of that? And even if she was, Sherri would have ignored Milhouse too.

Perhaps on some level, there was still some hint of the sister she loved so dearly?

Sherri was starting to hum a jarringly gentle melody. Listening to it and watching Sherri—who now seemed utterly content—brought Terri's hysteria down by a speck. A few deep breaths later and she could think straight again.

"Seriously, what was that for?" Terri asked again, holding her sister's chin and lifting her head, glaring into her eyes.

There was something different about Sherri. It wasn't her discoloured skin, nor her stringy hair or glassy stare. Maybe the situation was getting to Terri. Sherri turned to avoid her gaze.

She let Sherri go, who made some sort of hoarse grunt as she turned and awkwardly shuffled back to her corner. Flicking the lights on, Terri watched her undead cannibal of a sister. The zombie twin paused, then instead of squatting, she sat down shifting around a little—as if trying to get comfortable—before she closed her eyes.

Something about that stood out to Terri. Nothing about her behaviour was normal by any stretch of the imagination, and yet the way she was acting still felt odd. Perhaps in a bid to distract herself she was forming thoughts and ideas. Those would have to wait until her sister started making those noises again.