Respawn of the Dead

Chapter 6

Stumpy stared up at the ceiling of the sickbay, his milky blue eyes unblinking as he moaned quietly to himself. He was starving, and there were noisy, meaty things all around him, taunting him cruelly by just being out of his reach. He could hear one of them, flipping thought papers, humming to itself and singing softly in words that Stumpy could not understand. That one had been the one that found him, that stuffed him in that bag and dragged him here, only to have him strapped down and stared at by other noisy, meaty things. He could smell the blood coursing through their veins, hear their hearts beating and lungs rising and collapsing and their stomachs churning. Oh, how Stumpy wished he could be feasting on those taut, stringy muscles and squishy organs. But no, here he was, strapped down and unable to move, listening to the noisy, meaty thing in the white coat singing to itself in German. Stumpy let out an agonized, raspy moan.

"Ruhe!" The meaty thing in the white coat shouted at him from the other room. Stumpy had no idea what this meant, but the way it was said made him stop his moaning. The meaty things could be scary, sometimes, and Stumpy had seen what they had done to the others.

The zombified Scout stayed quiet for a few more minutes, but the sounds coming from the meaty thing in the other room drove him mad, and he started to groan again. He could hear something slamming down against a table, and then swift footsteps, boots clicking across the floor louder and louder as the meaty thing got closer. Stumpy started to drool like Pavlov's dog, squirming under his restraints with excitement as Medic opened the door.

"Vhat do you vant, hmmm?" The doctor leaned over the BLU Scout, arms behind his back. "You vant to bite me, ja? Eat me und spread zat horrible little virus zat BLU Medic concocted? Is zat it?" Stumpy gnashed his teeth and tried to pull his head up high enough to bite Medic, though his efforts were fruitless. The doctor merely continued to observe his subject, as Stumpy eventually figured out that he simply could not reach his tormentor, and stopped, but not without making more guttural grunts and snarls.

Medic laughed. "Fascinating. So single-minded, you ah, little Scout. Hold on just a moment, I shall be right back. Do not go anyvhere, now!" He turned and left, chuckling to himself over his own joke, as Stumpy struggled weakly against his bonds.

Stumpy didn't remember much of what it was like not being like this. Staring at the ceiling, with an empty stomach that was already poking out of the huge gash on his abdomen, he could see images flash briefly in his rotting, decaying mind. Running, double-jumping, carrying things from one place to another, hitting things with a...what was that word? Bonk? Hitting things with a bonk and making throat noises like meaty things made. But these memories were fading, like old black and white photographs left in the rain, muddied and splotchy and hard to make out, and all he wanted now was meat.

He wasn't sure how long it had been when the sound of footsteps and humming could be heard again, but it had felt like hours. Stumpy again started to thrash excitedly against the straps again, and Medic came through the door holding something wet and red and delicious.

It was meat!

The doctor looked down upon Stumpy with a smirk as the Scout salivated and panted hungrily, snapping his jaws. "Vell, vell, vell, somevone has an appetite, don't zey?" Medic cooed, dangling a strip of raw bacon above his subjects head before dropping it down his gullet. Stumpy chomped down eagerly, making wet smacking noises as he chewed with all the table manners of a ravenous wolf. "Interesting zat ze virus vould make its victims have an insatiable hunger for ze flesh, isn't it? Certainly a very effective mezhod of shpreading ze disease." He dropped another strip of bacon into Stumpy's mouth, careful not to get his fingers close enough for the Scout to bite. "I may have to request for ze supply train to bring more food for you, ja?"