Zombie Princess: A Morbid Fairytale

Zombie Princess

                Zombies have no idea what an oligarchy was, but their unrecognized notion of government was exactly that. It was a coterie of mindless flesh-eaters, arguing over who would get to eat the latest kidnapped victim. That is if you could call various octaves of incoherent grunting a type of arguing. They were almost like dogs, barking competitively and wrestling each other for the brain of their victims.

                One zombie though was quite taken with the screaming girl that they had captured. She had frizzy blonde hair, a pink gown, and a plastic, gold crown. This zombie had the brainless idea of biting the girl’s cheek, rather than going directly for the brain. The girl screamed a howling scream that was completely lost on the carnivorous coterie of zombies.  
     Blood trickled from the infected wound on her cheek, and the poor girl’s eyes were still splotched with tears. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” she cried piteously, as the blood poured onto the grey concrete floors of the abandoned warehouse, the perfect abode for these soulless zombies.

                The cries echoed through the dead caverns of their ears, and drifted through their craniums that were barely alive. How could they receive her anymore with love and tenderness? These zombies were lost to that world, deaf to any ideas lost to a state of mumbling mindlessness.

                Her cries became hoarser, as she continued screaming incessantly at the same volume.  Her face became more sallow, and eventually became desiccated. Her hair lost its blonde coloring and suddenly turned grey. The formerly clear screams of “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy” degraded into incoherent grunts.. “Mooogrh…Moooghr… Mooghr…” Phlegm became caught in her throat, as she desperately growled this incomprehensible string of syllables.    

                Fortunately, she still had her assemblage of Halloween princess accessories.  To the coterie of mainly male zombies, she could be weakly recognized as a princess. They bowed down to her, as she stopped yelling, and began to grunt-laugh, which was the zombie technique of trying to laugh with withered vocal chords.  This sounded more like “HOARGH, HOARGH, HOARGH, HOARAGH,” this precious laugh thundered throughout the space of the abandoned warehouse, while the other zombies enthusiastically implored her with joyous grunts to laugh louder.

      “HOARGH..HOARGH…HOARGH…HOARGH…” For every living girl, the dream of being a princess is never fully realized until she completely relinquishes her life, thus her freedom. Sadly, the girl Jessica wished a little too hard, after she blew out her birthday candles and wistfully said, “God, Make me a princess!”