Occulalia

TW: Vomit, Gore

I didn’t know it at the time, but my desiccated and undead body had lay dormant and waiting under the ground for almost a century.

Mother had escaped from Fathers car on the way to a lobotomy screening, supposedly to fix her many bouts of ‘hysteria’ that Father had felt so burdened by, and disappeared into the night. You’ll forgive me for not knowing how cruel and inhumane the whole thing was at the time, I hope. The education system was violently terrible, especially for girls, and I spent all of my teenage years managing the money and paperwork for Father in his metal foundry.

Mother came to me a few days after her escape, late one evening after I finished a job for Father. I’m ashamed to say that I just humored her, not paying attention to what she was actually saying as I smiled and nodded, trying to shepherd her back home for the ‘help’ I was told she needed. A chill ran through the air on a sweet and slightly musty autumn breeze, and I excused Mother’s cold hands because of it, their gray lack of blood flow quite common when she didn’t wear gloves.

I managed to get her halfway home just by walking slowly, Mother close to my heels and begging desperately for me to believe things I’d already forgotten, writing them off as ‘hysterical nonsense’ like Father had taught me to. If I had listened, even just a little bit, Mothers increasingly frantic voice wouldn’t have raised so high to reach the ears of the people that started peering out of their doors to witness the drama. If I had listened at all, she wouldn’t have gotten desperate as word started to travel and her time ran out.

In a last ditch attempt to change my mind, she grabbed my arm tightly, and I yelped from pain I hadn’t thought she was capable of. That noise brought a few of the braver men running towards us, and the last thing I remember is a guttural growl rising to a high pitched screeching in Mothers throat as two of the men drew weapons. There was a flurry of movement I couldn’t track, a few stomach curdling screams, a gunshot, and then I was dead.

Or so I thought.

I woke to a delicious, life affirming taste seeping onto my tongue and slowly slipping its way down my throat. I enjoyed it for a moment, the comforting warmth spreading through my body before the wet weight of the soil I was surrounded by started to concern me. I tried to move, and had to push against the heavy pressure, only stopping when a more pressing concern came to the front of my mind: The memory of my death.

How could I remember dying? Wasn’t the whole point that you could never remember again?

I started to panic, the heavy mass on top of me not very enticing to my newly awoken brain, and began to struggle. It took a moment to figure out which way was up, but muffled screams reached me through the soil as my limbs started to make space for themselves. Cool air brushed over my fingers, reinvigorating my escape now that I was sure I was almost free. More screams reached my ears as a few thuds moved their way away from my dirt tomb at pace.

I freed my arms first, waving them probably quite whimsically as I wiggled and writhed through the wet earth in an attempt to find somewhere for my hands to anchor. Finally, after a solid few seconds of straining and panicking, I found a hold and tore myself from the ground. My head was free now, but my vision was blurry, and my legs still trapped under the ground. I tried to wipe my hands to clear my eyes but dirt was caked onto my skin so thickly it didn’t accomplish much.

“Ahh!” I yelped as the blurred and bloodied bodies of two rabbits came into focus next to me, and I pushed my way even more quickly from the ground to free my legs, trying to distance myself from the morbid sight I’d emerged to. I knocked over a clump of candles behind me as I pushed myself free, and more dirt fell into my eyes.

“What the hell is that?!” A shrill voice was followed by a chorus of shushing that stole my attention away as I crouched, blinking quickly to try and assess the forest around me. A pink blur caught my attention from behind a tree and I squinted for a moment, trying to get my bearings enough to figure out what was going on, or what my options might be.

“Hello?” I said weakly, starting to cough again as more dirt and grime rose from my ragged throat, splattering onto the forest floor.

“You liar, you said this was- Wait stop, what are you-” A curt voice started to whisper urgently, but was drowned out by the crisp sounds of crunching leaves as a woman emerged from behind the tree.

She squinted just above my head, trying to smile through her nerves as she took a few more steps forward, and took off her fluffy cardigan before tossing it towards me. She took a few steps back again as the gears in my head turned, and I looked down to see my body, caked and stained with soil as it was, but whatever clothes I had been buried in, if there were any, were long gone.

“Oh!” I said with another round of heavy coughs and reached for the cardigan in front of me, glad for something to cover myself with in the cold damp forest. I slipped it on, unable to feel the soft yarn through the thick layer of grime on my skin. I stood up, my legs shaking so much I almost fell right back down.

My vision had improved ever so slightly, and I saw a few more people peer out from behind the trees they were using as protection. I was reeling, trying to figure out what on earth, or under earth as it were, had happened to get me here, but another coughing fit came to distract me. The grit I felt in every every uncomfortable place was sanding down my insides with every muscle movement.

“Do you want some water?” The woman said, reaching behind her and walking towards one of the others without taking her eyes off of me, still trying to smile comfortingly. I nodded as she held out a clear bottle and walked towards me, stopping a few steps away for me to approach her. I did, eager to clear my mouth of the awful sensations it was currently dealing with and grabbed the bottle from her. I tilted it back, instantly confused.

I didn’t know it at the time, but bottling technology had come a long way in the time I was underground, and little twist-off caps on clear plastic water bottles were something I hadn’t experienced before. I stared at it in confusion, coughing lightly as I squeezed and poked it ineffectively before looking up at the girl who handed it to me.

“You have to uh…” She was pointing at the bottle, but decided to take pity on me and took it back, twisting off the top and handing it to me with the uncertain smile she had been maintaining.

I swished and gargled it around my mouth a few times to rinse out the sand and soil, and then gulped most of the bottle in a few seconds, stopping only to pour some onto my face to wash the dirt from my eyebrows and eyes. Before I was satisfied with my face my stomach flipped, the weight and disturbance of the water triggering a wave of nausea that I couldn’t control. Dirt and worms were the only things I could truly focus on in the slurry that landed at my feet, and I heaved painfully a few more times from the thought alone. When it was over I sipped the last of the bottle to try and remove the acidic grittiness from my mouth, spitting it out when even the mere thought of swallowing it almost started the whole thing over again.

“What did you do, Myra?” Another woman had stepped out now and was standing a few paces behind the first, speaking in hushed tones. “I thought this was just an initiation ceremony for the new witches.”

“It was supposed to be, I have no idea.” Myra shrugged.

They both kept staring at me in silence as I tried to settle myself. I wasn’t in danger, not at first glance anyway, but not moments ago I was sure I was dead. The problem was you shouldn’t be able to be sure that you’re dead, and I couldn’t reconcile that in my mind.

“Where am I?” I asked, my eyes clearer now as I looked up at the much less starry sky than I was used to.

“Portland.” Myra said, her head tilting slightly as she also tried to figure out what was happening. “What are you?”

“What am I?” The incredulousness was clear in my voice as I looked back down at my body. I was dirty sure, and I did just rise from what I assume was supposed to be my grave, but I wasn’t any different than I remembered. “I’m a… woman?”

“No but…” Myra trailed off.

“Are you a zombie?!” A nervous voice half screeched from one of the less brave witches that were still hanging back behind trees.

I had heard of a few moving pictures that told horrific tales of the undead, but I had never seen them before, as Father hadn’t allowed it. He had always kept me safe from the influences of the heretical media, according to him, anyway.

“I don’t think so...” I said, but my lack of confidence was clear.

Silence settled in for a moment and a few loud rumbling noises reached my ears from a distance. Myra took a couple of steps closer and looked me over again

“What year is it?” She was trying to muster a tone of firm comfort, but the question confused me. I didn’t have time to wallow in that though, as both of our attentions were torn away by a horrible wet screeching sound that echoed from the ground at my feet where I had spewed up dirt moments ago.

I looked down quickly, but my focus wasn’t fast enough, unable to keep up with the thing that shot through the air towards Myra. Before anyone could react it had forced its way into her mouth and torn its way back out of her throat. Her body crumpled to the floor instantly, and my panic was quickly replaced by a strange desire to play along, to help.

I had milliseconds to examine it as the feeling grew stronger, the creature dashing from the first crumpled body towards the other girl that had approached, and a gunshot rang out. The sound shot me full of adrenaline, a raging pain in my shoulder reminding of my previous final moments, and my mind slipped away from me as deep boiling rage filled me from within.

Some time later I came to again. I was in the same cold clearing, standing next to the hole I had torn myself from minutes ago and staring at the final remaining candle that flickered on the ground among scattered leaves. I clenched my fist in the cold and felt a horrible stickiness between my fingers, smiling at the realization of what it was.

Somewhere inside me Father’s voice screamed out. Speaking of devils and heresy, it suddenly felt so absurd to me, to be afraid of something so immeasurable and outlandish, but from somewhere else inside me came the tales and legends that Mother had treated me to in secret over the years.

I felt the change in perspective as it happened. I saw it happening even, feeling the shift as my mind started to wake to this new world I was in with a strange confidence I had never felt before. I contemplated it with amusement as I picked up the blood stained clothes strewn about the clearing, not knowing where the bodies had gone but somehow content that I had done what I was supposed to.

“Thank you Mother.” I heard myself say with a smile.

A couple of loud honks echoed through the trees from a nearby road and a gurgle rose from my stomach, followed by an echoing screech in the back of my mind. I patted my belly over the graphic t-shirt I had taken from my victims and smiled with dirt and blood stained teeth, making my way from the cold, dark clearing to explore the strange new world I found myself in.