Lucid

My babysitter is a zombie cannibal

I heard the doorbell ring. My babysitter had put me to bed 30 minutes before, but I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about Star Wars. My best friend Mike thinks that the Jedi Knights suffer from testosterone poisoning. He says that since the Jedi Knights swear away all forms of sex, their testosterone levels build up until it makes them crazy, and that is why they are always fighting. He also says that because of the testosterone poisoning, the fact that there are very few women Jedi Knights, and because they spend so much time together that some of the knights begin to have sexual fantasies about each other. Mike says that is the real reason why Obi-Wan and Anakin fight at the end of Revenge of the Sith; it’s a lover’s spat because Obi-Wan is jealous over Anakin’s relationship with Padme. He also says that the lightsabers are extensions of their manhood; they are something called phallic symbols. He says that Star Wars is the most popular homo-erotic art ever made. Mike is my best friend and all, but I think he spends too much time reading crazy web sites.

I got out of bed and crept to my bedroom door, making sure to step over the part of the floor that always creaks really loudly. I figured out a long time ago that that was how mom knew when I was up after she tucked me in and went downstairs. I told her a long time ago that she didn’t need to tuck me in anymore because I was 12 years old. She asked if she could tuck me in for a bit longer because kids grow up so fast. I told her she could but she was going to have to pay for my therapy when I got older if she messed me up. She laughed and asked me where I had heard that. I told her that I hadn’t heard it anywhere because I read it on the internet. She looked worried when I told her this. My mother worries too much.

I was halfway down the hall then. My regular babysitter, Carrie, has a new boyfriend that has been coming over the last couple of times that she has babysat me, after she thought I was asleep. I didn’t tell mom about this because I liked Carrie; she let me watch R-rated movies on cable. The last two times that he came over I snuck down to watch them make out. Her boyfriend’s name is Joe. Last week Joe got to second base.

Mike told me that I should get a digital camera and take pictures next time so we could post it on the internet and make lots of money. He said there were a lot of sick old men that would pay a lot of money to see somebody making out with my babysitter. He knew these things: he was almost 13 and he had the internet in his room. He said that they had fetishes. I wasn’t sure what a fetish was but I didn’t have a camera anyways.

I wasn’t even sure if they were going to make out tonight anyhow. Carrie wasn’t feeling well; she looked pretty sick when she came over. She said some creep had bitten her. What kind of person bites people? My mom was worried that it might have become infected. She looked at her wound though and said it didn’t look infected. She put some antibiotic cream on it, told Carrie that she probably had a bug, and went to the theatre with her date. She said that she might call to check on her later though—like I said, my mom worries too much.

I was at the edge of the stairs then and inching my head out to peak down below. I could see Joe slumped down on the couch watching a horror flick. Carrie was sitting on the love seat besides the couch. She didn’t look good at all. She had her arms crossed and was leaning over towards her legs, just rocking back and forth. She had a dazed look on her face and she looked very pale, sort of like how the Tauntaun looked before it died and Luke cut it open with a lightsaber in Empire Strikes Back. Maybe my mom was right to worry about her. She looked like she was going to be sick all over my mother’s living room rug. She got up and headed towards the bathroom before she painted the floor with regurgitated food particles. Joe didn’t seem to notice any of this; his eyes never left the T.V. It was one of those shows my mom never let me watch: an R-movie with plenty of screaming, blood, and cussing—I loved it.

Carrie was spending a long time in the bathroom, but I didn’t mind at all because Joe and I were watching T.V. Joe didn’t know I was watching it with him, of course, but he didn’t seem like much of a talker anyways. He only moved once during that time and that was to help himself to one of our coco colas. I knew the ending was coming soon because almost everybody was dead except for one girl who really liked to scream.

It was then that Carrie exited the bathroom and made her way to the couch. Joe and I didn’t pay her much attention because the movie had gotten really good: the man in the mask had just been hit in the head with an axe, shot three times, and then pushed out the window. Of course he wasn’t dead yet. Why do the people in the movies always want to go over and check the bodies when they should know that he isn’t dead yet?

Then, Carrie, my babysitter for the last year and a half, bit her boyfriend Joe’s neck and tore out a large section of his flesh. Of course, Joe screamed then and blood began to spray all over my mothers couch. “Holy Shit,” I yelped. I saw the first few minutes of it in slow motion and it seemed like I was watching a movie and not happening in real life. But it was real. Joe was screaming and grabbing his neck, which was bleeding very badly and staining his shirt and pants, and my mother’s rug. He was staring at Carrie, bleeding all over the place, and backing up towards the front door. Carrie didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry after him really and it seemed like Joe might make it to the door. But Joe should have known from watching horror flicks that you always trip when walking backwards. He caught one of the legs of my mother’s end tables and hit the wooden floor hard, banging his head.

He didn’t seem to be totally knocked out, just dazed. Unfortunately for Joe, it was then that Carrie showed some spirit and moved on him quickly. She bit him again on his neck, tearing another large piece of flesh from him. He must have been weak from loosing blood and banging his head because he didn’t fight back much. I noticed at that point that she wasn’t just biting him and tearing off pieces of his flesh; she was also chewing and swallowing the pieces that she tore off—she was eating him. My babysitter was a cannibal!

The she got off of Joe, or what used to be Joe, and stood up. She then stood there for a moment with an incredibly blank look on her face with blood dripping down her face onto her blouse. She was incredibly pale now and I could see that parts of her face were beginning to decay and peel off. “Holy Shit, my babysitter is a zombie cannibal!” I whispered. I think she decided then that she was still hungry because she got back on Joe and started to gnaw on his arm.

I decided I had seen enough and I headed back to my bedroom, stopping to grab the cordless phone in the hallway. I had planned on calling the police, but I didn’t think they would take me seriously. Somehow I knew that zombie cannibal babysitters were never taken seriously. I thought of calling mom, but she has a new cell phone number and I don’t know it. It is written on the refrigerator, but I wasn’t about to go downstairs and get it. So I knew who I had to call.

Ring, ring, ring. “Hello,” answered Mike. He had his own cell phone, as well as a large flat screen T.V. and every video game system and game worth having in his room.

“Mike, my babysitter, Carrie, has become a zombie cannibal. She is eating her boyfriend downstairs. She—,“

“Quite messing around, Chris. I’m playing God of War and I’m at the last level,” Mike responded, before hanging up.

I called him back. “Hello.”

“I’m serious Mike. She was bitten earlier today and now she has turned into a zombie cannibal. I was watching T.V. with Joe and she just bit his neck and started eating him.”

“If you were watching T.V. why didn’t she try to eat you?”

“Because she didn’t know I was watching T.V. I was watching from the top of the stairs. I saw her eat him, Mike; Carrie is eating Joe”

“That’s sucks. Carrie was really hot. Did you take pictures of them making out yet?”

“I’m serious. Carrie is a zombie cannibal!”

“Actually, that wouldn’t really make her a zombie cannibal. Cannibals eat people. Zombies eat people. A zombie cannibal would eat other zombies. That would be a cool movie. I—“

“Holy shit Mike, I’m serious. My babysitter, Carrie Hill, is eating somebody in my living room right now. Are you going to help me or not?” Holy Shit was our cuss-word. We said it when things were incredibly cool, incredibly uncool, or when we were serious about our babysitter being a zombie cannibal….or I mean a zombie.

Mike sighed. “I’ll be over in a minute. I just have to finish this one part.”

“Hurry!”

Mike climbed into my window about 5 minutes later, wearing a pair of night vision goggles and a digital camera strapped over his neck. He always has the best toys and gadgets because his parents are divorced, like mine, but his father buys him everything he wants. Mike says that his dad is trying to buy his love, which he says is ok with him because it’s for sale.

“I swear to God, Chris, if I get caught I’m going to take back all of my games that you are borrowing including: Star Wars: Rogue Squadron, all three of the gameboy games, and my—“

“Mike!”

“What?”

“Listen, we need to be quiet when we go downstairs because I don’t know how well zombies can hear.”

He took off the night vision goggles and started fiddling with his camera. I don’t think that he believed me about Carrie being a zombie; I think he just wanted to come over to take pictures of Carrie making out. I rolled my eyes at him and headed for the stairway.

When we reached the staircase I quietly poked my head out and looked for zombies. The undead were not present; Carrie must have gone looking for a snack elsewhere. Joe was still there and he definitely did not look good. He had a good portion of his neck missing and there were several chunks of flesh missing from his arm. I felt very noxious then and I was pretty sure I was going to hurl. Mike pushed me aside and started down the stairs to begin his fetish camera man career.

“Holy Shit,” he said. “She killed him.

“See,” I gasped, pushing away my nausea.

“Your babysitter has gone crazy. I bet she is about to have her menstrual cycle and she has P.M.S. They probably proscribed her Prozac and she went loony toons. I bet he tried to feel her up when she was cramping and she killed him.”

“No, I told you. She’s a zombie”

“We have to call the police, Chris.”

“They won’t believe two kids. They won’t believe that Carrie is a zombie.”

“Maybe. But they will believe that guy is dead when they see him,” Mike said.

“We should make sure he is dead. He may need C.P.R. Remember when they taught us to do C.P.R. in school”

“Ok. But your giving it to him if he does,” Mike said.

Lucid

Mike and I cautiously climbed down the stairs, looking for zombie menstruating babysitters, but Carrie wasn’t around. Joe hadn’t moved at all, except for the small pieces that were probably traveling around with his girlfriend now. Up close to him, the urge to hurl was irresistible. I assumed the hurling position and plastered my mom’s already ruined rug with sausage pizza chunks. When I was finished I noticed Mike giving me a “dude that was disgusting; you almost made me hurl too” look. Mike turned his attention back to Joe and nudged his head a little with his foot.

“You’re supposed to check his pulse,” I said, while pushing back more nausea and spitting out God knows what. “Then check if he is breathing.”

Mike looked dubious. “Hey man, you Okay” he asked. Joe did not respond. Mike put his camera strap around his neck and started to bend his knees slowly to check his pulse. Suddenly Joe opened his eyes and grabbed Mike’s ankle! Mike screamed like a tone-death Teen Idol contestant.

I thought at first that Joe had woken up and was trying to ask for help, but then I realized that Joe was no longer alive. He had the same blank stare that Carrie had perfected and he was moaning for some human chow. He lifted his torso up partially and tried to get at Mike’s leg. Luckily for Mike, Carrie had really messed up Joe’s neck and for all his zombie efforts he was unable to get his neck to cooperate. It could no longer support the weight of his head, so his noggin was just flopping backward like a broken bobble head. This fact did not seem to reassure Mike at all because he was still screaming for all his worth and trying to shake his leg from the zombie’s grip.

It was then that Carrie emerged from the kitchen. She had gone full blown zombie by then, with outstretched hands, a mindless zombie moan, and pieces of peeling flesh hanging from her face. Then Mike screamed like a girl scout caught in a pizza oven and tried to shake Joe’s grip with newfound intensity. I joined the effort and tried to pry Joe’s fingers off of Mike’s leg. Joe must have lifted weights between periods of feeling up babysitters because I couldn’t get his grip to budge.

Mike was in trouble. There was no way he was going to escape Joe’s kung-fu-zombie grip and Carrie was headed towards him at full undead speed. I couldn’t let Mike die because he had promised to lend me his X-box this weekend. I looked around for anti-zombie weapons and saw: my mom’s pink house shoes, a pile of Good Housekeeping magazines, an empty coco cola can, and an umbrella. I grabbed the umbrella and charged towards Carrie like a Wookie on fire.

I jabbed her repeatedly in the stomach with the pointy end of the umbrella. She was unimpressed. She ignored me in the way zombies typically do and continued her shuffling walk towards my best friend, who was at this point screaming for help from his mom, God, and for some reason, Tootie from The Facts of Life. I lifted the umbrella above my head like a Samaria sword and started whacking the teen zombie on the head with it. This seemed to distract her more, but she was not sufficiently disturbed to change her direction. I screamed like mad and started stabbing her in the face. This got her attention. She steered her course towards me. This made me wonder why I did that when Christmas was coming up soon and my mom would have bought me an x-box.

I was unsure of what to do. Carrie had backed me up against the garage door, and I didn’t know if I could make it past her to the kitchen or the front door. I opened the door leading to the garage and dashed in. Carried followed me through the doorway. Our automatic door opener was broken and I wasn’t strong enough to lift the door by myself--I was trapped! I looked around frantically for something to help me. My dad was a tool nut who never actually built or fixed anything, so the garage was full of perfectly organized, never-been-used Craftmaster tools including: Philips and flat-head screwdrivers, socket wrenches, an air blower, chainsaws--that’s it: the Craftmaster 2000 Deluxe His and Her Chainsaws. My father had bought it for my mother on her birthday; I wondered if my father’s poor choice in gifts had something to do with their divorce.

I thought that the male version was too big for me to handle so I grabbed the smaller female version. It was one of the only tools my father ever used. For some reason, he had used it to chop up a man’s corvette that lived across the street, shortly before my parents got a divorce. I pulled on the cord: nothing, but a clicking sound. I looked back and noticed that Carrie was getting closer and that one of her ears had fallen off. I pulled it again and there were more of the clicking sounds like before. I thought of Obi Won and how he had told Luke to use the force in the fourth Star wars when he was blowing up the Deathstar. I summoned the power of the force, and I felt Obi Won with me. I pulled it again: more clicking. Fuck you Obi Won. I pulled it once more: Vrooom! I knew then that the power of the force was strong, but mysterious; sorry Obi Won.

Even the smaller chainsaw was really heavy and hard to handle. I turned around with it just as Carrie was reaching me and set in on Carrie’s arm. Zombie blood splattered everywhere. Carrie was confused. She stopped trying to eat me and looked very intently at her arm as I chewed it up with the chainsaw. The chainsaw was getting really heavy and I wasn’t sure I could hold it up much longer. Crunch, crack, plop—Carrie’s arm fell to the floor. She stared at her zombie arm, flopping around on the ground, and I took the opportunity to run past her to the garage door and through to the living room.

Mike was there, holding back Joe the zombie’s head with his arm. Mike was saying something to me but I couldn’t hear because of the chainsaw. Because Joe was on the ground it was much easier to get to him. I started with the arm that was holding Mike’s ankle and worked my backward, making zombie stew. Soon Joe was no longer Joe so much as collection of Joe-like pieces. The severed pieces remained animated and flopped around the living room like severed, animated zombie pieces. Joe’s leg still had so much life that it leapt around the room like an undead pole-vaulter, but it wasn’t winning any zombie Olympic competitions by itself.
I turned the chainsaw off and took a breather. I noticed then that the phone was ringing, but I was too exhausted to get it; so after a few rings Mike picked it up. “Hello,” he said.

“Oh, hi Ms. Jenkins. Yes, I know I’m not supposed to be over this late,” Mike said to my mom.

Then suddenly Carrie emerged from the garage, carrying her severed arm. Both of her ears had fallen off by then, and her nose, as if she was paying homage to Michael Jackson, was twisted to one side and barely hanging on. I started pulling on the chainsaw cord again, but it was as stubborn as last time.

“No, I’m sorry Ms. Jenkins, Chris can’t come to the phone right now; he’s busy with the chainsaw,” Mike said. “No, I’m sorry, Carrie can’t come to the phone either; Chris cut off one of her arms with the chainsaw and she is carrying the other one.”

With a vroom the chainsaw came to life.

“I have to go Ms. Jenkins,” Mike yelled over the sound of the chainsaw before hanging up.

I charged at Carrie, wielding the bloody chainsaw. She dropped her severed arm and tried to grab me. I used the chainsaw to fend her off and I put the loud weapon to work on her other arm. Twice she managed to grab my clothing, and I fought her off by shoving the chainsaw into her abdomen. Soon she had a large hole in her body, and her arm was hanging by something red and stringy. Still, she kept coming at me; she reminded me of the green knight from The Search for the Holy Grail. By this time I was exhausted, so Mike came and took a turn with the chainsaw.

Before long, Carrie was a bloody mess like Joe, so Mike turned off the chainsaw. I looked around the room and saw: various zombie body parts flung from one end of the living room to the other, including Joe’s twitching leg on the coffee table; regurgitated sausage-pizza-chunks; blood and miscellaneous zombie goo coating the walls; and pieces of hair and bone that were mixed throughout, with a large portion of Carrie’s hair hanging on the garage door knob.

Mike looked at me and said “Holy Shit Chris, your mom’s going to kill you.”

Quote:

And your nudity as promised: http://fofa.4dwebhosting.com/Images/...BZ_baboon1.jpghttp://fofa.4dwebhosting.com/Images/...BZ_baboon1.jpg

Sigg

Haha, damn, that was even better than the first part. Loved every second of it.

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slayerofangels

It was very good, though the whole suddenly eating people thing got a bit too wierd for me.

Slayer

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Viqto

Hhaha, I like the random comedy and the whole "I summoned the force and Obi Wan was with me. I gave another tug...nothing, F*** you Obi Wan!" heheh too funny.

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amusinglackoftalent

Lucid, I read every single word of both parts. I'm reading along going, "I can't believe I'm reading a comic horror short about a Zombie babysitter and ENJOYING the hell out of it." It needs polish, man. I'm pretty sure you spell coco-cola, Coca-Cola... Noticed some other small spelling problems. Do your 'line editing' slowly and thoroughly. Make sure you got all that Star Wars stuff spelled correctly as well.

What a delightful ride, man. I'd bounce this one off Weird Tales or somebody like that once you get the tiny wrinkles ironed out. Congrats and thanks for a really great read. (Those zombies just won't die, will they?)

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Lucid

Thanks so much for the positive feedback! I really appriciate it.

Sigg and SlayerofAngels, I'm glad you liked it.

Vitgo, I'm glad you liked that part because that was one of the most enjoyable parts to write.

Yeah, it really does need some polish. I will proofread and edit it soon. Thanks for pointing out the Coca-Cola thing.

I'm really glad you liked it. It would be awesome if something like Wierd Tales could use it. I would hate to have to remove fu** you Obi-Wan though.

eggo

Hey Lucid,

Great re-write man. Exactly the type of camp this story needed. The goofy anologys, the wanton blood.
couple of crits,

My regular babysitter, Carrie, has a new boyfriend. He has been coming over the last couple of times that she has babysat me. After she thought I was asleep...

Don't link to many sentences with a comma. End them and start again. This makes the work cleaner and readable.
He knew these things because he was almost 13 and even had the internet in his room.
maybe?
coco colas= Coca-Cola

“Your babysitter has gone crazy. I bet she is about to have her menstrual cycle and she has P.M.S. They probably proscribed her Prozac and she went loony toons. I bet he tried to feel her up when she was cramping and she killed him.”

Laughed my ass off

Nice.
Excellent

Fine job. Just enough over the top.

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Lucid

Thanks Eggo,

Yeah, I rewrote the parts that you mentioned last time and I think they turned out better with your suggestions. I went nutty with the second part and had a lot of fun writing it.

I agree with this, especially with the sentence that you pointed out. Your other two criticisms are valid as well.

Thank you. Thanks for reading it and the crits. May the force be with you!

gohn67

Hey Lucid,
I really enjoyed this too. It was hilarious.

Also I liked the child voice you used, it worked really well in providing comic effect and also made it easy to read. I liked his thoughts about everything.

Mike sounds like he has rich parents and has been taken a lot influence from an older brother. Also his parent seem to not really care what he does.

A few things-

I was confused how Mike got over to the narraters house so fast. It felt like he just appeared there in a second. Did he just run or bike there himself in the middle of the night? It seems like his parents don't care.

The other thing is the action scene could be improved a bit. It was well written, but it didn't seem like he was too scared of her. Like when he was thinking about which chainsaw to use. That was pretty funny though. When I'm under pressure and scared I don't really have time to think so logically and deliberate. You think in more in short bursts. A way you show this is by using shorter sentences, and shorter paragraphs. This helps with increasing the tension.

I really enjoyed reading it, and must admit that the length scared me, but it drew me in after a few paragraphs.

---
Where was the sex? And I don't want to click on that link, seems like something I wouldn't want to see ever.

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Lucid

That's exactly the impression I wanted you to get of him. I tried to also give the impression that he spent a lot of time on the internet, corrupting himself in the way 12-year-old boys do every chance they get. I didn't think about siblings, but an older brother would make sense as you mentioned.

I originally intended to talk about how Mike lived a few houses down and that he climbed out his own window. You're right that it is confusing without that; I'll add it in.

This is a good point. I must admit I didn't take it much into consideration when writing this. When I revise this I will try to incorporate it. I will also now keep this in mind when I write action scenes. I think I tend to string too many independent clauses together anyways, which is probably especially true for my action scenes.

I guess there was no explicit sex scene, just a little sex-related material. Lol, the link is actually g-rated.

Thank you for the response and the excellent critique.

Lucid

Thank you so much Maria. Thank you for reading it.

Have you ever seen "Shaun of the Dead"? That's a funny zombie movie.