Warm Bodies: The Little Brown Bear

The Park

Hello! This is the monster of a sequel to my previous work 'Warm Bodies: Awakening'. Hope you enjoy it. It's quite dark, and takes many twists and turns.

Usual disclaimer, I do not own Warm Bodies, or the main characters and general setting within (though Mark, Brandon, Stephen, Dan, Evan, Rachel, and other OC's are mine).

They belong to Isaac Marion and were given a little more flesh (so to speak) by Jonathan Levine. This story is based on the movie, more than the book (read the book and it's prequel if you haven't already!), and it will make more sense if you've read my first story - Warm Bodies: Awakening.

Btw, this story is 127K in length over 49 chapters. Good luck ;) (and leave a comment when you're able!)

"Good music?" a small voice asked to R's left.

Startled, he looked up from his lap, where he'd been intently studying his knees for no particular reason, and glanced over. A young girl, no more than nine, maybe ten, was sitting on the weathered grey park bench beside him. Her pale pink jacket and My Little Pony top were a glaring splash of color in the dull greyness of the day, and he blinked, momentarily dazed by the sight. Under her blue baseball cap, stitched with the logo of some sports team he didn't recognize, gushed a cascade of curly auburn hair. Her eyes were big, brown, and bright, only just outdone by the huge smile she was giving him as she sat there, twisting and kneading a small stuffed brown bear she held in both hands.

Surprised, he didn't answer right away, and watched her instead. Where had she come from? What was she doing here? Why was she alone? That didn't seem right.

She leaned forward and pointed, "What are you listening to?"

Looking down, he realized she was pointing to the white headphone cords snaking out of the pocket of his red hoodie.

The park was eerily quiet around them. No birds sang, no squirrels rustled through the dead leaves scattered over the dry brown grass. They were alone. He'd come to the park seeking something natural and comforting, but nothing felt natural here.

Looking back up at her, he opened his mouth to answer, and groaned.

Well that was embarrassing. He'd meant to say 'The Man Who Lives Forever' by Lord Huron. Something had happened to the words on the way out of his mouth.

R tried to apologize and answer properly, but only managed a rasping growl.

Jesus, that was pathetic. Giving up on talking, he turned to look out over the park again. The burnt out shell of a car sat overturned against an old oak tree that was just barely winning the war to stay upright, its bark scarred and blackened by the carnage below. The dark, crumbling shell of a person reached out from the shattered drivers side window, brittle twig fingers clawed into the singed turf, caught forever trying to pull themselves free.

A breeze picked up and the trees whispered in scratchy tones as the pages of a newspaper fluttered by, coming to rest against a discarded bicycle and the rotting corpse of a dog a few feet away.

Jesus, this park really sucked.

"Can I look?" came the girl's voice again, and suddenly she was right next to him, leaning over to pull the iPod out of his pocket. As she moved, her hair fell away from her shoulder, exposing the smooth untanned skin of her neck.

R watched as her skin pulsed with a steady beat, blood pumping through the jugular vein just underneath the surface. Supplying life to the meat below.

It made him uncomfortable, and he tried to push her away, but somehow his arm misinterpreted his command, and wrapped tightly about her instead, holding her in an embrace that drew him even closer to that beating drum of vivid life.

Desperately embarrassed, he tried to apologize for his behavior, but uttered a strangely keenly moan instead.

Unbelievable. What the hell was he doing? He had to let go of this girl now, or somebody was going to wander by and call the cops on him for being a perv. Jesus.

"It's okay you know," the girl said softly.

...It's okay? What was okay? What was she talking about?

"It's okay that you're biting me."

Something warm ran down his jaw, and he swallowed what he'd been chewing. Funny, but he didn't remember bringing anything to eat? It was really tasty, whatever it was.

What was the girl saying again? Something was okay? He couldn't hear her properly, and leaned over to listen. There was a sudden gush of something hot against his face, his neck, and down his arm, and he jerked back, surprised.

The girl jerked too, and he wondered if she'd felt it - it was like someone had run by and splashed a coffee in his face.

Bizarre.

Something was stuck between his teeth. Flicking his tongue around it, he freed something long and stringy, and quickly swallowed whatever it had been.

God, he felt good. He leaned over the girl again, meaning to ask her what she'd said before, but really he just wanted to thank her for hanging out. It was obvious the company was doing him good. He felt energized, like his whole body was buzzing.

And he was eating something really tasty. Had he brought a sandwich with him on this trip? He couldn't quite remember. Whatever it was, it was tender, juicy, and... warm?

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

Not again. Please no.

Slowly, he pulled back from her, and finally focused on what he had done. The girl's head hung at a strange angle, no longer supported by the mass of tissue he had just consumed. Her neck lay exposed and open, raw quivering muscle gnawed to the bone, and blood dribbled from the veins and arteries he had severed with jagged bites moments before.

Blood spattered the white skin of her face, her pink jacket, her bright t-shirt, and matted her auburn hair. Her eyes were open, drawn in pain and confusion, and dull with death. One hand still clutched the brown bear, her knuckles locked and white.

"N-no..." he moaned, his dead throat strangling the words into barely audible gasps. "Noooooo..."

His world dropped away in horror, the park, the grey sky, the dry breeze, everything faded to the dead girl's face. The travesty of his hunger.

The dead girl's eyes fixed on him suddenly, then slowly shriveled away, leaving nothing but empty black sockets. As her cheeks hollowed out, her skin thinned, and stretched like a dessicated mask over her skull. Lips drawing back from black jagged teeth, she spoke, and the voice was not the same as he had heard before. It was the rasp of stone against gravel, burnt fingers against singed earth. It was death.

"It's... okay... that you killed me..." the voice growled, and the skeletal face jerked up and thrust towards him, maw open wide as the voice rose in pitch to a deafening screech, "just FIND ME!"