Hello, Officer? Can you help me? My dad got turned into a zombie. You know, we’ve been travelling around getting rid of things that aren’t real, and this time they hit back. I really need someplace to stay – but can you make sure I have some holy water or something wherever it is? And some silver-jacketed bullets? That’d be sweet. Yeah, that’d be totally cool. Thanks. And while you’re at it, can you tell the guys with the straitjackets that I’m really sane? That would help.
Lilith SaintcrowZombies smell worse than anything you can imagine if you haven’t been hunting things on the dark side of the world. It’s a ripe, gassy odour, like rotting eggs and meat gone bad, crawling blind with maggots. It’s road kill and decayed food and body odour all rolled into one package and tied up with puke.
Lilith SaintcrowHow had I managed to tie my boots? I didn’t even remember getting dressed. I was out here in public at the mall. What was I wearing? Jeans. I could feel socks. I had my boots on. I plucked at the edge of my t-shirt and saw it was red. I was wearing Dad’s spare Army jacket, and there was a heavy weight in the right pocket that had to be something deadly.
Lilith SaintcrowI thought wulfen howls were bad when I heard them in my own garage. Hearing the high, glassy cry in the middle of the woods at night is infinitely worse, because the howls sounds like it could be words if you just listen hard enough. The horrible thing is that it pulls on that deep hidden part in every person-the blind animal part.
The part that knows you're the prey.
But the worst thing about it?
Is when it sounds right behind you, and something hits you from behind, tumbling you into another thorn-spiked mess of vines and branches, leaf mold and dirt filling your nose, and a huge, hot, hairy hand winds in your hair.
I guess since the groin is the center of a guy's world, he rarely guesses it isn't the center of yours.
Lilith SaintcrowJesus, you've got a death wish."
"Right now I have a bathroom-and-sleep-somewhere safe wish, kid.
What do you say when someone takes on a really bad ass, murdering sucker for you? There just aren't words for that.
Lilith SaintcrowHe hadn't told me everything, but I'd left him for dead. I guess we were just about even.
Lilith SaintcrowDeath did not play favorites—He loved all equally.
What you cannot escape, you must fight; what you cannot fight, you must endure .
The god's voice—not quite words, just a thread of meaning laid in my receptive mind—
People don’t really want to know anything about you. They just want you to fit into their little predetermined slots.
They decide what you are in the first two seconds, and they only get nervous or upset if you don’t live up to their snap judgments.
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