What Doesn't Kill You...

Dead Again

Damon Montgomery was dead...again.

The state of his mortality did not give him too much alarm. It would be over in a matter of minutes. He was more annoyed about the condition of his favorite silk shirt than his apparent death. His main concern, other than how to replace said shirt, was chasing down the person responsible for killing him...this time.

The familiar burn in his chest was the first sign of his resurrection. He felt his heart thud heavily against his ribs. The burn spread rapidly through the rest of his body recalling him to Life. Gasping, Damon opened his eyes.

He caught sight of his target leaping out of the abandoned apartment window. Ted was pretty agile for a zombie. They usually had terrible coordination. Must be a fresh one. Rolling to his feet, Damon ran to the window and looked down. Ted was scrambling down the fire escape. He glared up at him, one eye milky with cataracts, and hissed.

Damon grimaced. There was nothing romantic about being a member of the undead. A semblance of life anchored to a rotting body. Not sexy.

"Are you going to catch him or just stare at him?" Violet's voice echoed in the dark alley. Damon looked up to see her peering down at him from the roof. Her silhouette was backlit by the silver light of the moon. She grinned at him, her eyes glowing red with excitement.

Damon's reply was to launch himself out of the window and after Ted. His feet landed solidly on the fire escape. There was a scream and the sound of breaking glass.

"Shit!" Damon took the stairs two at a time. If Ted killed anyone the authorities would come down heavy on all paranormals residing in the city. Broken glass littered the window sill on the second floor apartment. Ducking inside, he found a terrified woman holding a frying pan to her chest. "Where?!"

She pointed a shaky hand towards the open apartment door. Damon raced down the dark, narrow hall. He'd just cleared the door frame when Ted roared and tackled him. They went down hard.

Thankfully, Ted didn't have a sharp pointy weapon to stab him with this time.  Damon dodged Ted's gnashing teeth. "Sorry Ted. I'm not going to be you midnight snack." He grunted through clenched teeth.

Damon drew his knees up and kicked Ted away. The zombie flew back a few paces, howling in rage. His voice bounced off the walls.

Before Damon could move, Ted's head rolled off his shoulders. It landed on the hallway carpet with a meaty thud and rolled to a stop a foot away from him. Several more motions too swift for his eye to follow left Ted lying in pieces in the hall.

In this world, the dead didn't always rest in peace. Ted learned the hard way what happened when they didn't. Ted's eye, unfogged by cataracts, glared at him furiously. His mouth moved, menacingly baring his teeth. He looked as if he were trying to say something. It seemed Violet had separated his head from his vocal chords. All the protest Ted could make were horrifying expressions.

Damon stood and dusted himself off. "This is what happens when you try snacking on humans, Ted." One of Ted's severed hands extended and flipped him the bird. Violet cackled loudly and drew out a plastic garbage back from her jacket pocket. "I think I'll have that hand sealed and mounted on my desk."

Damon groaned. "Please don't." He glanced down at his clothes and sighed. Why couldn't he have one case that didn't result in his clothes being ruined by his untimely death? The one inevitably preceded the other.

Resigned to his dwindling wardrobe,  Damon followed Violet down to the lobby of the apartment complex, carrying a jumbo trash bag of Ted's wriggling body parts. Taking the exit to the alley, Violet smacked the bag against the door. "Oops. How clumsy of me!"

"Really?" Damon gave her a reproving look.

"What? I would think you'd want a little payback. He did kill you."

Damon gestured to the ragged hole in his shirt and the unblemished skin beneath. "But did it take?"