Movement. I just saw movement. I stop and turn slowly waiting. Listening. They make noise, maybe if I wait I will hear it. I smell the air, they smell, I should be able to smell them by now. I wait just a little longer, but think it's best to keep moving, keep searching. Then I heard it again. A rustle in the bushes. I stop and begin to walk slowly closer to the bushes. It can't be big, something small. . . Then out pops a squirrel and I lung forward. They are tasty, haven't had food in too long. The squirrel tries to escape, but it's too slow. I have it in my hands and I bit into it hungrily. Blood. So good.
I drop the carcass and carry on. Still hungry. 'You're always hungry,' the voice in my head tells me and I take another look at the squirrel carcass. 'Gross,' she responds. 'What is gross?' I ask. 'You,' she retorts and she sounds irritated. 'No I'm hungry,' I respond. This keeps her quiet. I do not like or hate her, mostly just indifferent, but she hates me. 'Despises you,' she adds like I care. I don't know much about her. All I really know is I'm hungry, really hungry. 'You shouldn't eat them,' she tells me but I don't really listen to her. I don't really know what happens if I don't stop eating, but I know it's good. It's the best thing I have ever had. 'You're killing them' she says desperate. 'Do you know how painful it is to die?' she asks. 'Do you?' I as and she's quiet. 'No, but neither do you,' she says. 'I don't think I want to stop eating, I need it. I want it.' I say trying to make her understand, but she doesn't.
I look around seeing other like me. They eye me but mostly just carry on like I do. 'That's Mr. Jenkins,' she says when I see a man shuffling near me. She's quiet as I walk up the stairs and into a building. It's rare when that happens. It's usually when I'm hunting even if she was in the middle of a rant and I see something she's gone, but sometimes she just feels overwhelmed and shuts up. It must be one of those moment's now. I shuffle into a room. Maybe there's something in here. I shuffle through doorways and into another room. 'This is my room,' she says and I look around indifferent. 'That's my bed, and my clothes, and all my jewelry,' she says proudly. Then something gets her excited. 'That's my ring!' She says when I spy something small and sparkly. 'It's still here!' she says and I can tell she's excited about it. 'Take it,' she tells me. 'I don't want it. It's not food,' I respond. 'Take it!' she says again. 'Take it, take it, take it, take it, take it,' she carries on till I pick it up to make her shut up. She doesn't usually win these arguments, but I take it for her.
She looks at it. 'Mother gave it to you,' she says. 'Don't you remember?' she asks. 'I am not you, I woke up here. All I am is hungry. . .
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I really enjoyed reading this. I like how the title give no indication as to whether "us" is referring to humans or zombies and it is not till reading into it you can see it is a zombie perspective. What I found most compelling in this piece was having the idea of there still being a little voice inside your head that is the human part that is left. It was really interesting to see the zombie perspective "all I want is blood" and then have a voice pipe in that was made to feel more like a human. It set up a very interesting internal battle that zombies could possibly have. What if you still had a little bit of yourself in your zombie head? Awesome.
I agree with Frankie, really enjoyable, and quite relevant to a lot of the issues we've been discussing about zombies' humanity, agency, etc. If every zombie had a human voice in her head, like the one in the story, would we feel more hesitant about killing them? Would there be more hope that they might be able to fully recover their humanity, ala Warm Bodies? Your story is really thought-provoking, especially when you consider its implications for some of the other zombie universes we've examined (Walking Dead, This Is Not a Test, etc.)
The balance between the human voice and the zombie was really interesting in this story. The human obviously had no physical control, but she did have the power to annoy the zombie. Obviously, the screams of humans do not bother zombies when they are biting into flesh. Maybe the hunger is too powerful that sound in general does not matter. However, in this quiet room where there is no immediate chance to eat, the voice has the power to annoy the zombie and the zombie is influenced to pick up the ring. The question of identity in this short story is also interesting. The zombie clearly states, "I am not you." She offers no explanation for what she is, though. On the other hand, the human voice clearly associates her state of being with the zombie, saying, "mother gave the ring to you."
That was awesome!
I like the double narrator perspective. You should take it further. Try and make more of a distinction between voice also. I found myself rereading the italics a lot. They work well, but maybe a more dialogue style paragraph structure would help too.
The originality and compelling thought process is commendable! I'm looking forward to the next installment!
Very enjoyable read! I really loved the life-like flow of thoughts!
And Zombie perspective? KICKASSSSSS.
I have to echo the others: I really really enjoyed the double narrator, and it's chilling to think that there might still be a spark of humanity left inside of zombies, yelling at them to remember themselves. Something within them is vividly aware of how wrong it is to eat people, and yet that tiny part of them is too weak to do anything about it! Horrifying. It makes me wonder if there's room for a cure in your little word, here. Can anything exploit that bit of humanity? Clearly, it has some sort of small control, if it could make the zombie pick up an old ring...
I echo Brendan's idea of dialogue-paragraphing; that would definitely make it easier to read! Either way, wonderful piece. I'd be interested in seeing you continuing it.
This was fantastic! The first few sentences definitely had me thinking this was from a living human's perspective, but the lunging at the squirrel threw me for a loop in the best way.
I agree about the structuring of the dialogue though. Initially, I thought that the squirrel had been zombified, and that the narrator and the squirrel were having a telepathic conversation.