Read The Undead That Saved Christmas Vol. 2 Online
Authors: ed. Lyle Perez-Tinics
The zombies moaned and continued banging on the door, slowly cracking the hinges. It didn’t take long before the door gave and the zombies pushed their way in.
Once inside the house the zombies stood by the door and waited for Ginger. She came in not too long after.
* * *
The gingerbread army inside the house waited for the zombies to make the first move.
“Get out of here!” Katie yelled from the top of the stairs.
Some of the zombies looked toward the noise and became antsy.
“Quiet, Katie,” Pepper whispered.
“No,” she said then looked toward the zombies. “This is my house and I don’t want you in here! If you don’t get out of here, my friends will kill all of you!” she yelled.
The gingerbread cookie standing on the shoulders of a zombie looked up and stared at Katie.
A Normal,
she thought. “My name is Ginger,” she said, “these are your friends? Well these are my friends and we are going to eat all of yours and turn you into one of us.”
Ginger motioned for the zombies to begin the attack.
Pepper yelled, “Attack!”
The gingerbread cookies yelled a war cry and ran toward the zombies. The first wave of cookies ran up to a zombie dressed as a mailman and climbed up its clothes ‘til they reach the top of his head. One of the cookies placed the point of a candy cane on top of its head while the other cookie stomped down on it. The candy cane went through the skin, puncturing the skull and entering the brain. The zombie took one last swipe at the cookies on its head before falling to the ground. Blood leaked out of the pencil sized hole on the zombies head.
More cookies continued to climb up the zombies’ clothes and used the same method to bring them down.
“Flyers, now!” Pepper yelled.
Cookies began to climb up the stair railings. Rope was tied to the ceiling. They swung from the second floor like Tarzan toward the group of zombies that were coming in through the door. They had their candy cane weapons in one hand while the other was on the rope. They let go at the right time and flew through the air stabbing at the zombies’ heads.
“Eat the cookies!” Ginger yelled.
The zombies swooped at the ground grabbing cookies in their grasps. Raising their hands up to their mouths, they used their teeth to snap them in half. The gingerbread cookies died instantly.
Ginger laughed as the first cookie died. She climbed off Duty and ran into the mass of cookies. She hopped and pinned one to the ground taking larges bites out of the cookies’ neck. Warm dough began to leak out of the cookies’ wound. Ginger hopped off of the cookie and ran after another one. A moment later, the cookie Ginger had bitten stood and began attacking the other cookies along with Ginger.
“Oh no,” Pepper said. “Take the infected cookies down!”
The next wave of cookies ran up with their lolly-pop mallets and began smashing the infected cookies faces in. Crumbs flew from their heads like confetti. More zombies began to flood into the living room.
“We have to get you out of here,” Pepper said to Katie. “There’s just too many of them.”
Katie ran to her room out of sight and hid under the bed.
Pepper stood on top of the stairs, his eyes locked on Ginger. He climbed up the stair railings with his candy cane weapon in hand. Ginger was in view. He leaped off the stairs freefalling toward Ginger.
To be Continued…
The Last Noel
By Craig W. Chenery
To my Wife, Tera.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, at the graves downtown,
Where a strange chemical, had spilled on the ground.
It seeped in the mud to the graves six feet deep,
Where the bodies of the dead awakened from sleep.
Up from the ground zombies crawled into sight,
Their screams and moans rang loud in the night.
It didn’t take long for the virus to spread,
And those who were bitten would soon join the dead.
People died quickly and the zombie horde grew,
As they bit through skin, flesh, bone and sinew.
They tore through the town in a bloodthirsty spree,
While parents were putting their gifts by the tree.
The festive families were caught unaware,
As they readied for Christmas without a care.
But the zombies swarmed in and the Christmas tree fell,
As they tried to fight off this image from hell.
Little Timmy awoke as he heard a loud clatter,
With hopes to find toys, not brains and blood splatter.
Looking for stockings filled with Skittles and Reese’s,
But instead finding his parents all torn into pieces
Poor little Timmy, with good grades on his card,
Was now fucked up for life, and emotionally scarred.
He turned back and ran to hide under his bed,
His parent's bloody screams danced in his head
He screwed up his eyes as the dead climbed the stairs,
Poor Timmy he cried as he shouted his prayers.
The zombies came in and Timmy was caught,
He kicked and he screamed and so desperately fought.
But he was no match for this terrible death,
And hugged on to teddy and drew his last breath.
He wouldn’t survive to get gifts Christmas morn,
If you think this night was bad, just wait for the dawn.
Zombie Don’t Pop
By Rusty Fischer
I’d never liked parties
At the end of the year;
Since it meant back-to-school time
Was drawing more near.
But this year was different
As the clock did ding-dong;
And out of the graveyard
Bodies soon were long gone.
They roved and they wandered
As midnight drew near;
It was clear they were shuffling
Why, right over… here!
The dead had arisen
From their burial plots;
I’d say there were dozens
I’d say there were lots!
Their movements were jerky
Their feet they did scrape;
But the street was too crowded
To make my escape.
Our party was outside
As the confetti flew;
And the revelers shouted
As the party it grew.
The whole street was blotto’d
Quite high off of champagne;
As the zombies grew closer
Inflicting their pain.
They chomped on the grown-ups
And then every kid;
It wouldn’t be nice
To describe what they did!
But maybe I’ll try
To give you a taste;
Of what happens when
Some zombies laid waste.
They cracked open noggins
And scooped the brains up;
And then on their torsos
They started to sup!
They chomped on their shin bones
And nibbled their toes;
As blood spewed all over
Like H20 from a hose.
The street grew quite bloody
Yes it was soon red;
As all of my neighbors
Grew terribly dead.
And there I stood trembling
As the zombies approached;
Yes on our street party
The dead did encroach.
I could find no weapon
To fight the horde off;
As I started to cry,
To sputter and cough.
And as 20 zombies
Reached in for a bite;
I grabbed for the first thing
That came into sight.
The cork popped right open
And knocked three dead down;
As the rest of them stood there
And started to frown.
I looked to my left
And then to my right;
Thank God they’d attacked
On New Year’s Eve night!
My back to the bar
I’d stumbled upon;
A case of champagne
That wasnw RoCrt quite gone.
I handed the bottle
To the first zombie in line;
She tipped it into her mouth
And thought it… quite fine!
She sucked and she swallowed
The bubbly all down;
It fizzled and fuzzled
All over her gown.
The rest gathered round
Waiting their turn;
For those quite undead
How quickly they learn!
I popped all the bottles
And gave them all out;
As the zombies grew drunker
And started to shout.
They were lively and merry
Those living dead ghouls;
And in no time at all
Were acting like fools.
I left them all there
Quite torn up and twisted;
As I made my escape
Why, all of them missed it!
So I no longer hate
That old New Year’s Eve;
Since from a zombie attack
It allowed me to leave.
And I do have one lesson
I’d like to impart;
As your next cocktail party
Is about to start:
To see a mean zombie
Get all troubly-wubbly;
Skip brains for a change
And give him… some
bubbly
!
Survivor’s Christmas Carols
By Bud Hanzel and John Olson
Everyone loves Christmas carols. Even those who refuse to admit it publicly. Our carols run the gamut from traditional to popular favorites.
For those of you unfamiliar with the “
Do-it-Yourself Guide to Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
” a couple of vocabulary notes are perhaps in order. First, zombies are never referred to as undead, that term describes Vampires, and a few other monsters. Zombies are “un-live” as they are in fact dead, and possess no conscious awareness of self. In relation to that terminology also come the terms “re-kill” and “re-dead”, as one simply cannot kill, what is already dead. Zombies have to be “re-killed” in order to be “re-dead.” Finally you will see the term ZTA, used throughout these carols, which is a simple acronym for
Zombie Transforming Agent
, the causative factor of the zombie apocalypse.
So, with that understanding of terminology, don’t be a Grinch, let your hair down, sip some eggnog and sing along.
Christmas Carols
Be Wary of the Zombie Horde
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” is an old-school carol in the madrigal tradition, with repetitive stanzas that make it easy to sing along with. We saw no reason to break with a formula that has worked for centuries.
Be wary of the zombie horde
They have the ZTA
And when you see them coming
You had better run away
To save yourself you must prepare
For that unlucky day
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
In some top secret terrorist lab
A weapon they’ll create
And then quite unexpectedly
The virus will mutate
The world will become zombified
At a horrifying rate
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
From two most gifted authors, did
The DIY guide rise
On how to survive the zombie horde
This tome would now advise
To save your friends and family
Ignore the crosshairs’ cries
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Prepare would be survivor
Let nothing you forget
You must begin your planning
And pick your stronghold yet
So zombie proof your vehicle
For thirty days be set
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
So gather your provisions, and
Then fortify your space
Ensure your own security when zombies start to pace
Connect with your survivor group
And plan your meeting place
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
When comes the day to leave your home
Be careful swift and sure
To make your trip its safest
Use a simple zombie lure
So occupy your stronghold, where
Survival you’ll ensure
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
So be thou well and careful in
The strength of your high walls
And foster truth and brotherhood
Within those sanctum halls
And plan for your prosperity
Once the final zombie falls
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Shovel and gun
May you have at hand your shovel and your gun
Meet Me at the Stronghold
“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” dates back to World War II. Our version is intended for World War Zom.
I am thinking today of place that I know
With thick walls and where windows are few
Where there’s plenty of space and resources to choose
You know what to do
Meet me at the stronghold
When the zombies rise
We’ll be safe inside that place
With plenty of supplies
We’ll have guns and ammo
And our shovels too
Meet me at the stronghold
I will wait for you
Zombies may surround us
But they’ll not get through
Meet me at the stronghold
I will wait for you
I will wait for you
Rudy the Un-live Zombie
Gene Autry almost didn’t record “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, thinking that it was too silly. However, his wife loved it and talked Gene into doing it. So, thanks Mrs. Autry, this is all your fault.
You know Vampires and werewolves and mummies are fiction
But that zombies would rise was a constant prediction
Did you ever know ‘Bout the poor guy that’s called patient zero
Rudy, the un-live zombie
First victim of the ZTA
And if you ever see him
You had better run away
All of the other zombies
Are un-live because of him
They got the bite from Rudy