-08-

“The More, The Merrier, Right Xander?”

Drill Sergeant Xander Xanthus Xapper was a normal military man one week ago. Then he was cursed to eat rotting flesh. Then a zombie outbreak happened. Xapper reflected on the events that lead to him slaughtering and feasting on a rampaging horde of zombies.

“No more! No more zombies! No more brains! I can’t eat anymore! Stop, you dumbasses! ENOUGH!”

The undead populace of the town of Redmoose had surrounded him. He did not bother to look at their faces because he did not want to recognize any of them. They were no longer the people. They were just wild and walking sacks of rotten meat now.

And they were delicious.

Every last bit of them.

Except the brain. The brain was the blandest part of the zombies.

But in order to stop them, Xapper had to eat the brains.

And due to eating one moose brain with hot sauce, which led to a trip to a portapotty that ended in fire and smoke, Xapper had to fight off more zombies then he had ever had until that point.

His stomach was so big it was past food baby size and was more of a grotesque gut. It wobbled as it barely was contained by his shirt. Yet Xapper fought on and ate.

He got into a rhythm. Grab a zombie, smash open the skull, eat the brain, and repeat. Over and over and over again. And Xapper finished kills with increased speed and efficiency.

The fight with the zombie horde became a waking nightmare. An endless purgatory. His own personal hell. Xapper wished for death but was so focused on killing and eating, he could not stop.

His vision blurred and turned red. His limbs and mouth acted on their own. His breathing became laborious and full of pain. His insides felt like they were ready to rupture.

Zombie, after zombie, after zombie came at him. Brain, after brain, after brain was eaten. Over, and over, and over again. A cycle of death, gluttony, and agony went on and on and on.

“Kill me. Just let me die. Please, just let me die!” begged Xapper.

The one spark that drove him to press on after leaving Fort Blackwood was his daughter, Valiant Shooter. He wanted to see her again. He had to see her again. But after being caught in this horrendous cycle of gore, gorging, and suffering, that spark was slowly going out.

Xapper, with what willpower he had over his body, attacked the portapotty that was still ablaze. The flames were attracting the zombies to him. If he could put out the fire then maybe the zombies would stop? Maybe his fresh hell would end?

Xeak, the wicked voodoo doll made in his likeness, swung from his pants and laughed.

And it spoke cruelly to Xapper. Mocking him. Torturing him with glee.

“Hehehehe! Get it, Xander! Keep eating! Don’t stop now! You’re breaking all the records!”

“Xeak, please.”

“Aren’t they just so yummy, Xander? Can’t get enough, right? So good!”

“No . . . more! No more . . . eating.”

“Yes, more, more! Eat, eat, eat, Xander! Eat’em all! Hehehehe!”

Eventually, Xeak’s voice became lost in the moans and groans of dying zombies. And the endless chew of rotting brains. And the throbbing pain all over his body.

Hell would have been a sunny vacation compared to what Xapper was going through.

All hope seemed lost until the horde began to finally thin out. The zombies were attacking with less frequency. Xapper never counted how many brains he ate. He did not want to know.

His attempt to put out the portapotty continued with more fervor. He had to put it out before any wild animal zombies started to join the fray. Xapper realized that there was no way he could put the fire out with what he had.

He prayed for rain or a miracle that would save him.

“God almighty! I know you and I have had our differences! But please, please, please, put this damn fire out and get these undead bastards away from me!”

“That god can’t hear you, Xander,” said Xeak. “Only our Goddess, Nar-Goathgeir can hear you. And she is pleased with your feasting. Very, very pleased! So keep eating, Xander! Eat!”

Tears ran down Xapper’s face as he kicked the portapotty between the munching of zombies and brains.

That spark that drove him was about to go out.

Before it could though, an explosion of green and smoke erupted on the portapotty. The zombies scattered as the portapotty melted away and the fire went out. Xapper giggled in mad joy as the zombies fled.

“Yeah. Get. Get out of here, you undead sh—”

Xapper had no strength in his voice to shout. His body became his own again. And as he gained control, he lost it just as suddenly. He fell to the ground and felt the elephant rifle bend under his tremendous weight.

His vision darkened as a small figure approached him.

“No more—no more hot sauce,” muttered Xapper before he blacked out.

The last thing Xapper thought about was his daughter . . .

🍴🧠

Xapper awoke in his hut back at Fort Blackwood. His smartphone was ringing on his dresser. He forced himself out of bed and shuffled to the phone. He clumsily answered it without checking the name.

“H-hello?”

“Dad, it’s me.”

“Val, what time is it?”

“Midnight. Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no, I was awake,” Xapper lied. “What’s up?”

Valiant then began to cry. Xapper grew worried as his daughter wept. He slowly sat on his cot and waited for her to speak.

“I’m just so happy to hear your voice, dad,” said Valiant.

“What happened? Don’t be scared, tell me everything.”

“I . . .” Valiant then went silent and sniffed. “I’m just overworked, that's all.”

“Are you overworked or did something happen?” asked Xapper. He could tell she was hiding something. “You can tell me.”

“Well, I don’t know how to put it into words,” said Valiant.

“Did someone hurt you?” asked Xapper carefully.

“No, no one hurt me, dad,” said Valiant. “Besides Calypso and the rest of the faculty, I’m invisible to everyone else. No one would bother hurting me.”

“Are you feeling off because of . . . of the hormones?” asked Xapper.

“It’s not the hormones, dad!” snapped Valiant. She then quickly changed her tone. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s been a rough few days, that’s all.”

Xapper waited for Valiant to say more. When she stayed silent for a while, he asked, “So, who’s Calypso?”

“Oh, that is Professor Waxington’s first name,” explained Valiant.

“You’re on a first name basis with your teacher?” asked Xapper.

“Yes and we are in a relationship,” admitted Valiant. “I thought I told you?”

“Yeah? Yeah. I remember, you told me,” lied Xapper again. “So, she’s been good to you?”

“If not for her support, I would—would be in worse shape after—”

Xapper then stood up as Valiant went silent. “Right! I’m coming to you. I’ll be there by morning.”

“No, no! Dad! Stay at your base! You’re safe there and—” Valiant then stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m alright, okay? I just wanted to hear your voice. I don’t want you to drive all the way to Arkham, okay? Look—what?”

Suddenly, Valiant had a discussion with another woman in the background. Xapper waited patiently though his patience was running thin. Valiant’s voice became distant and the other woman spoke on the phone.

“Hello? Am I speaking with Mister Xapper?” asked a woman with a distinct Boston accent.

“Yeah, this is Sergeant Xapper, Valiant’s father,” said Xapper calmly.

“Yes, sorry, this is Professor Waxington, Valiant’s adviser. It was my idea that she should call you right now. See, we just learned that two students had gone missing hours ago. They were part of the library studies club that Valiant is also a member of and I oversee.”

Xapper’s concerns grew. He kept his mouth shut though and he let Waxington continue.

“Both Valiant and myself are a little shaken after the police questioned us. There have been a string of disappearances happening in Arkham as of late. Thankfully, as long as students stay on campus, they are safe.”

“Are they?” asked Xapper. “Is my daughter safe at that Miskatonic place?”

“She is and I will see to her safety personally,” said Professor Waxington.

Xapper heard the honesty in the professor’s voice. Still, his mind was not at ease. “Right. And she said you and her are a thing, is that right?”

There was a long silence until the professor spoke. “Yes. And I assure you that she is very important to me. And I do not mean just academically. She is a very brave and intelligent person that has enriched my life.”

“I was going to tell him that about you,” shouted Valiant in the background.

“Yes, I’ll give you back to her then,” said Professor Waxington. “I wish we could have talked for the first time under better circumstances.”

“Maybe we can meet in person sometimes?” asked Xapper with a sneer. There was something off about Waxington. Xapper wanted to see her face to face in the near future.

Waxington then said, “Yes, that would be nice, here is Valiant, goodnight, sergeant.”

“Hello? Dad? Are you still there?” asked Valiant.

“I am and are you sure you don’t want me to come down there?” asked Xapper.

“Yes, stay at the base,” said Valiant. “I’ll be alright, as long as I don’t go anywhere at night.”

“Good, don’t go out at night. Do you want to talk about anything else?” asked Xapper.

“No, no, I just wanted to talk, since I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” said Valiant.

“I mean, you could spend the night with that professor,” said Xapper.

“. . . I’m actually at her private apartment on campus.”

“Oh, right, you two are a thing, so it makes sense,” said Xapper. His worries grew as he thought about his daughter being alone with this strange professor.

“Yes, sorry for waking you, dad.”

“No, Val, you can call me anytime.”

“It is late and you should turn in. So, I will let you go.”

“Right. Stay safe, baby girl.”

“You too, dad. Oh and one more thing.”

“What’s that, Val?”

“You need to eat, Xander! Wake up!”

🍴🧠

Xapper woke up in the back of the truck. There was a pillow under his head. His body felt numb then there came the urge. The urge to relieve himself.

He rushed out of the truck and hobbled as far away as he could. He wanted to put some distance between the truck and any hot obsidian that came out. Hot rocks attracted the undead.

Xapper removed his pants and squatted. The rocks slid out. So many rocks piled up that soon he could almost sit on the pile. He had to scoot away to make another pile.

“How? How is there so much? At least it ain’t hot.”

“You need to eat, Xander—”

“Shut it, Xeak! I know I ate enough to last me! Now, shut up or I will bury you in my mountain of rocks!”

“Who do you keep talking to?” asked a little voice.

Xapper looked over his shoulder and saw Little Defiant with Plasmee. Plasmee laid across the girl’s shoulder and the girl kept her distance from Xapper. Xapper had finished letting rocks pass and quickly buckled up his pants.

“Does privacy mean anything to you?” he asked.

“Why were the zombies coming after you?” asked Little Defiant.

“Get right to the point, don’t we?” asked Xapper.

“Why was the outdoor potty on fire?” asked the girl.

Xapper looked at the piles of rocks he had left. He pointed and explained, “That there is my poop after eating zombies. Some of it was really hot and set the potty on fire. And the zombies like that fire, I guess, and came running to me.”

“Plasmee eats zombies too and she also poops out shiny black rocks,” said Little Defiant.

“And does she dream of a big bug too?” asked Xapper.

“Yeah, Plasmee and I share a dream and the giant bug lady tells us things,” said the girl. “She mostly tells Plasmee to eat more zombies.”

“Yeah, she tells me the same thing,” said Xapper.

Little Defiant swayed from side to side and looked very guilty. She gazed at Xapper apologetically and said, “I’m sorry.”

Xapper nodded and smiled. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

“Plasmee told me you would be a cool hunting partner,” said Little Defiant. “She wants to team up with you.”

“She talked to you then?” asked Xapper.

“Yeah and do you have someone you talk with?” asked Little Defiant.

Xapper pointed at Xeak hanging from his pants and said, “Yeah, he tells me to eat, all the time. How did you and Plasmee meet? And how does she speak to you?”

Little Defiant spun around. Plasmee had a tail and it went down into the back of the girl's shirt. And the tail was buried deep into the girl’s flesh.

“I was always sick, all the time,” explained Little Defiant. “Mommy and daddy hated paying bills. So, they borrowed a magic book and they made Plasmee appear and she became a part of me. I’m all better now.”

“So you feel better after they did that?” asked Xapper.

Little Defiant nodded. “Yup but if Plasmee gets hungry and there are no zombies to eat then I have to eat. If there is nothing for me to eat then Plasmee has to eat zombies.”

“It’s called a symbiotic relationship, Xander,” said Xeak. “They need each other to survive.”

“I get that,” said Xapper quietly. He then asked Little Defiant, “So, I have to ask you, LD—”

“LD?” asked the girl.

“Yeah, it's short for Little Defiant,” said Xapper. “Do you like it?” The girl shrugged and did not seem to mind. “Anyway, why did you come to my rescue? I thought you wanted everyone to eat me?”

Little Defiant swayed again. “Big bug lady got mad that Plasmee was not eating zombies with you when they all attacked you. She asked us to be your friends.”

“Well, that was nice of her,” said Xapper.

“The more, the merrier, right Xander?” asked Xeak. “Now, get to eating.”

It was dawn and Xapper looked to the town of Redmoose.

“Yeah, so, does Plasmee want to go to town and eat more zombies?” he asked.

Little Defiant smiled and nodded. She then walked up to Xapper and handed him the peacemaker. He was thrilled to see it again and put it back in its holster. Xapper then got his rucksack from the truck.

Xapper and Little Defiant, with Plasmee, made their way to town as the sun rose over the horizon. Plasmee crawled into Little Defiant’s arms. She then shoved her hand into Plasmee’s backend. She held Plasmee with her other hand under the monster’s throat and rubbed it once.

The monster went GLUK-GLAK! like a shotgun being pumped.

Xapper raised an eyebrow and asked, “So, how does that work, LD? What do you do to have her spit acid on command?”

“Oh, I put my hand in Plasmee and when I tickle her insides, she squirts,” explained Little Defiant.

“Hehehehehe,” went Xeak.

Xapper poked the voodoo doll’s head and said, “Hush you.”

As Xapper entered Redmoose with his new companions, in a watchtower north of the town, someone watched them, through a sniper scope . . .

To Be Continued . . .