Nathan Cosby Of The Mountain: ZOMBIES VS. VAMPIRES VS. WEREWOLVES VS. SEAMONSTERS VS. ROBOTS VS. ALIENS

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ZOMBIES VS. VAMPIRES VS. WEREWOLVES

VS. SEAMONSTERS VS. ROBOTS VS. ALIENS

PROLOGUE

Steve tried to scratch his right hand. Unfortunately, his left hand was on the other side of the room, so scratching would have to wait.

“Hello,” Steve said, then heard as an echo reverberating around the large, completely darkened space he was laying in. Was Alicia in here? She’d been with him before he’d…what? What the hell had happened? Where was he? Man, being a zombie makes it hard to think about stuff. (“Stuff” being any thought outside of “BRAINS!” and “GET BRAINS!” and “THOSE BRAINS WERE GOOD. MORE BRAINS!”)

Steve felt around the ground with his one attached hand, trying to figure out if Alicia’s dead body was anywhere near him. He didn’t want her to be dead—he loved her, after all—but if she was dead, and she was around…waste not want not. As he ran his fingers across the soft floor, he realized all of his remaining fingers were broken. He made a mental reminder to tape tongue depressors to his digits once he found his way out of there.

“There’s nothing around you,” a voice from the darkness said, startling Steve enough that he fell on his face and knocked two more teeth out.

“How…d’you know?” Steve asked the darkness.

“I can see in the dark. The next closest guy to you is ten yards away.”

“Oh. Um…who’re you?”

“Neville.”

“Are you…did you kidnap me?”

“No. I got captured and put here. You were here before me.”

“Is this like a…concentration camp?”

“What?”

“For zombies. Like is this where they take us and kill all of us?”

“I’m not a zombie, dipshit. I’m a fucking vampire.”

Steve got a shiver down his spine (the shiver took a while to make it all the way down, because Steve’s spine was broken in at least seven places).

“Please…please don’t kill me.”

“You’re fucking dead, asshole.”

“Yeah, but I…you could suck my blood, couldn’t you?”

“Zombie blood tastes like a septic tank. Even if I sucked your blood, you wouldn’t get any deader than you alrea—goddammit, you fucking zombies are stupid.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to being…I didn’t realize vampires were real. I didn’t know zombies were real either ‘til three days ago, so I shouldn’t be real shocked or nothin’.”

“Just shut the fuck up until I figure out how to get out of here.”

“Can I help?”

“Fuck no.”

“Oh. Then…do you know where my hand is?”

Steve heard a few splashing steps, then silence for a second, then felt a limp hand hit him in the face and land in front of him.

“Thanks,” Steve said as he attached his left hand back to his wrist.

“Please shut the fuck up.”

As he sat quietly in his puddle and listened to more splashes (he assumed “Neville” was looking for a door), Steve thought to himself: Wonder where we BRAINS are. I was BRAINS walking, then I saw BRAINS that light BRAINS and Alicia screamed (wait she was already BRAINSBRAINS screaming before that) then…hey BRAINS wait! I BRAINS have a lighter!

Steve fiddled in his left pocket with his still-tingly-and-not-quite-totally-attached left hand. He pulled out his lighter, then realized none of his fingers were capable of turning on said lighter. So he used his remaining teeth to gnash against the button and turn on the flame. Jazzed by his own resourcefulness, Steve mashed his broken fingers onto the lighter button, smiled, and looked around.

Then he stopped smiling.

And you can’t really blame him, because if you saw a werewolf licking his own bleeding leg while sitting next to a seven-armed blue alien that was secreting glowing mucus, and if it suddenly dawned on you that the “room” you were in looked an awful lot like the inside of a stomach…would you smile?