Love the Dead


I thought of all those Resident Evil game’s I’d blasted my way through and felt a strange surge of guilt wash over me, but I shook my head and turned it instead to the more important scenario currently playing out in my bedroom. In real life

She was at once everything and nothing like she was before the accident. Her shoulders were cold and clammy, her skin a sickly, dark lavender beneath my hands. Her once-flawless complexion had always been pale, but now it was translucent in a slimy sort of way, showcasing the haphazard splotches of blood pooling beneath it. Her lank hair fell around her thin, bony shoulder blades. Even in death she was stunning.

“this is too freaky” I said, so soft it was a whisper. Regrettably, her hearing – unlike her internal organs – had not deteriorated in the slightest since her untimely demise. Her beautiful face fell in a heartbreaking manner, and I couldn’t help but think her heart might have actually broke with my thoughtless comment. “Hey, hey,” I said, quickly trying to rectify my mistake, but it was too late. She was totally bummed out.

“I guess that’s all I am now, right?” she mumbled through cracked lips, “a freak.”

“Come on baby, that’s not what I meant,” I said, pulling her closer to me. There was a small crack from her chest and we both pretended we hadn’t heard one of her ribs just snap. An awkward silence ensued.

“I love you,” I whispered, resting my chin gently – very gently – upon her forehead, “So, so much. This is just a… a… a speed bump.” A rippling breath rattled through my late girlfriends chest, futilely filling her lungs with useless oxygen. Force of habit, I guess. She was serene again, and I commended myself on a potential argument subdued so successfully. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her thin, anorexic frame feeling fragile in mine.

“Do you like… glitter in the sun, or anything?” I asked quietly, feeling stupid for even saying it. I half-hoped she wouldn’t get the reference. Guys aren’t supposed to read that, right?

“No, I just decompose quicker,” came her curt reply. It was obvious her self-esteem issues were at an all time low. They’d always been present, but the fact that her skin was now akin to an easy-peel babybel probably didn’t help. It used to be a lot easier to cheer her up. Hell – at least before I could wipe away her tears without fear of taking her cheeks with them. I had to try to comfort her though.

“Can I uh… jump your bones?” I asked, as awkward as I had always been when it came to matters such as this. I heard her smile. It sounded painful.

“I dunno…” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. Or maybe it was just another being dead thing, maybe she always sounded sad. This was all new to me and it’s not like she came with a manual. “I’m kind of uh… flying a Japanese flag, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh come on, that never stopped us before” I said, trying to kick-start my charm.

“It’s kind of heavy flow,” she continued.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, my hands sliding down to her hips.

“I think my liquefied cervix is falling out.” she finally admitted.

Jeez. Boner-killer much?

Blame here — just so we’re clear, despite my blog consisting of only two posts and those two posts focusing entirely on necrophilia, and my upcoming book Kiss of the Womb having Necrophilia as one of its main themes, please be aware I am not obsessed with the subject. I mean, okay, I kind of am – it’s fascinating, don’t you think? – but what I’m trying to say is that future posts, for better or worse, will not focus on or feature heavily the act of making love to the dead.

Thanks to the immense popularity of the Twilight saga, I’ve had this idea kicking around in my head for the best part of three years. I wondered if I could write a successful human/zombie romantic novel in a similar vein. Consider the above extract an experiment, although I think should I ever continue with it I will have to tone down the macabre humour and add some hella-cuteness. Speaking of, the image I used in my header is from the wonderfully cute 4-page doujinshi by mangaka Dowman Sayman, entitled – I think – Pretty Zombie Attack and used entirely without permission.


~ by Joseph Blame on June 28, 2010.

One Response to “Love the Dead”

  1. I like it. You’ve got some very…descriptive words flying about in there, you can feel this girl falling apart on your skin!
    I would be very up for reading this as a novel, however if you put even 10% of the mush that stephanie meyers is obsessed with writing in it, I will throw it out the window 😛
    good luck 😀 HG X

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