Haunted Things

Resurrected Zombie (Tammy)

Clyde felt himself in the most awkward of positions balanced. Lying flat on his back perched on his tail like a giant teetering top. His eyes felt gravel filled and he used his long dry tongue to clean off the tip of his nose. Clyde knew he was in trouble, and that most likely he had lost all credibility by being taken down by a pack of rodents.

At the memory of the flea biters he moved his eyes as far to the East and West as his sockets allowed and let out a sigh of relief that the coast was clear. Now for the big hurdle, getting up. Everyone knows a Tyrannosaurus Rex doesn't lie down. Tiny arms and hands make it almost impossible to self right oneself. Especially with one's weight balancing on one's tail!

He managed to roll himself over and was inexplicably drawn to a tree. Wiggling to the tree and using it as leverage her managed to create enough leverage to stand. Suddenly a powerful craving for nuts took over his thought process. And storing. ​Winter is coming. I must prepare". His mind repeated the chanting over and over again.

Looking down toward his legs, tiny bite marks and scratches covered the surface and collectively oozed small bits of blood and pus. ​Infected! Damn rodents! And with a case unsolved and a payment yet to be made. And winter, winter is coming.

Clyde felt a sudden urge to pack his important belongings in a tree. ​Ridiculous!​l, He thought to himself, and yet the nagging sensation continued. With his mind swirling like an ADHD squirrel on a bad acid trip he knew what he had to do. Get the DNA, and pack it away for winter.

Clyde's large feet crushed the wooden stairs to the overdose porch. Without knocking, and single focused, he ducked his head and barged into Himmel House. The front room groaned and swayed and Clyde saw his paycheck, err, Frannie Himmel standing in the main room looking up the stairs where a series of screams filtered down from above.

Opening his mouth to speak, Clyde's eyes reflected surprise as all that came out was a series of squeaks and clicks. ​Damn squirrels, they've zombified me!

Frannie Himmel, the target, stood opened mouth glaring at him in anger.

"Who will be paying for the damage here bucko?"

Her mind wasn't at all surprised at seeing a dinosaur in the house, through the years it has conjured whatever it could to produce fear from those within the walls and feed itself from the screams.

Clyde's mind told him to grab a plug of hair and run. But something deeper called out to him with a primal urge. ​Winter. Must store for winter."

And with that, his tiny arms reached out and plucked Frannie from the creaky floorboards and turned toward the door to find a tree with a ladder. Everyone knows the T­Rex can't scale a tree. Especially not with a single arm. And he didn't foresee the kicking and screaming damsel in distress to settle down enough to hold her in his mouth.

Clyde stopped, his short attention span throwing him off track. As his eyes flickered upwards and his head cocked to the side to listen to the screaming, his pea sized brain told him up was up, and Frannie in hand, climbed up the stairwell towards the screaming. ​Nuts, ​he thought, ​I should have grabbed some nuts on the way.

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dedicated to the @wattcrastinstors who make my life brighter than a bowl full of skittles on a rainy day! You guys rock!