The Zombigram

I found it while I was trawling the internet one evening.

There wasn’t much else to do at the end of the world. At least not for the living. So, it was the answer to my prayers. I’d been looking for something to give my life purpose and there it was staring me in the face. I had no job, no girlfriend and not much prospect for the future… until now. It was dark outside, but the computer screen flickered with promise. I sent it to the basket and quickly paid for it. The website informed me I could expect my delivery within the next hour. I sat back and waited. 

An hour passed by and then another. It was getting late. My eyes drooped. Not long after I was asleep. I was in the middle of a dream when something woke me up. I sat up, confused.

Was that a knock at the door?

Wiping saliva from my chin, I glanced down at the laptop screen. There was an unread email in my inbox. “Your delivery has arrived”, it read. I got to my feet and moved down the hallway. When I opened the front door there was no one there. I closed it and hurried back to my computer. I was in the process of typing a snotty email back when I heard a loud noise above me. 

There was a thump upstairs. It sounded like the neighbour was having a great time, until I heard her scream. I ran out of my flat, up the steps and banged on her door. When there was no answer I knocked again, but harder this time. The door creaked open slightly. I felt panicky. Was she badly hurt? Or murdered? Stepping cautiously inside, I picked up an umbrella from the wall nearby. I held it out in front of me like a fencer’s foil for what good it’d do me. 

Should I call the police?

The screaming had stopped. If I called them would they be able to get there in time? I decided against it and ventured inside myself, stepping into a scene the like of which I had never seen before in my life. My neighbour was lying dead in a pool of blood. Bent over her was what can only be described as a monstrosity. As soon as he heard me enter the room, his nightmarish head turned and the creature, for it was no man I saw before me, grimaced. I struggled hard with my emotions, but I was neither horrified nor scared. I was, in fact, disgusted.

It knew something was up. Seeing the look of anger and disappointment in my face, it scratched his head in confusion and some of its rotting scalp came away with it. Now it was bald as well as ugly. While the zombie’s brain might well have been reanimated, it was clearly not working on full capacity. I dropped my makeshift weapon and shook my head.

‘You’ve made a mistake, buddy,’ I said. ‘A big mistake.’

The zombie mumbled something incoherent, which could have been “what mistake?” I waved it away dismissively.

‘How difficult is it to get the right goddamn place?’

It mumbled something else. Sounded like a number. 22. The number of the building in which both me and my neighbour lived. 

‘Basement flat,’ I said.

The atmosphere of confusion deepened. The zombie looked over at me and then pointed down at the floor beneath it. In the process its finger fell off. I nodded. It bent down and picked it up. Almost immediately it tried reattaching it, but the digit fell off again. Picking it up for the second time, it placed it in its jacket pocket and tried to look apologetic. It failed miserably.

‘Look, mate,’ I said, ‘when I order a Zombigram the very least I expect is for it to turn up at the right place and kill the right person. Those screams I heard earlier should have been mine. Now she is going to turn and I'm not. I demand a refund.’

The zombie shook its head. I wondered if that might fall off too, but it managed to stay intact. It mumbled something like “no refunds” and it was then that my neighbour stirred and got awkwardly to her feet. Her expression had a deceased hue to it and the look in her remaining eye told me all I needed to know. She wanted to kill me. I backed up as she advanced in my direction. Soon she was joined by the other zombie. It kept repeating itself over and over again.

‘No refunds… no refunds… no refunds.’

At this point I was backed up against the wall. I had nowhere else to go. They were so close I could smell their fetid breath. They reached out for me. I thought about resisting, but then I realised this played right into my hands. They were going to turn me after all. I opened my arms and let them in. They went to work on me. My heart sung with delight as I felt it pump its last lot of blood round my body. 

My breath was coming in short ragged bursts and I couldn't wait for the moment it stopped. Then my face fell. I watched them open up my stomach and pass each internal organ around like a side order at an Indian takeaway. If they didn't stop feasting on me there would be nothing left to return. I raised my hands in feeble protest, but they ignored me.

When I saw my neighbour eyeing up my brain I knew they had no intention of turning me at all. I was done for. When they reached up to scoop out my eyeballs I could no longer see a way out of my situation. This was it. No refund and certainly no return. I was out of pocket and, then as my heart finally gave up, I was out of time.