It's that time of year again, and I hope you're having a stress-free Thanksgiving whether you celebrate it or not. And if you'd like to support my writing, check out my patreon or buy my poetry book.
"Rise," you hear a muffled feminine voice order you.
You struggle to follow the command. Your body is sluggish, and your eyes twitch under your eyelids. Your whole body shivers. You have to get up. You received an order. This feeling of needing to obey runs through your stiff blood.
"Hello...hello? I can see that you've heard me." Two pairs of feet shuffle around you.
"The body should be working fine? It is one of the freshest corpses I have on hand," the masculine voice pauses briefly, "Is it possible that you did the ritual wrong?"
"I shouldn't have, but this is the first time I've done something like this- the eyes just opened!"
Your vision adjusts as you stare above you. The black woman before you has her braids wrapped in a messy ponytail. Her pair of thin-rim glasses slide slowly off her nose as she stares at you. Her lips and white teeth grin in excitement.
The racially ambiguous man on your other side has olive-tan skin. His brown hair seems to have had fingers run through it repeatedly. The edge of a tattoo pokes out because of several undone buttons from his shirt.
Where the hell are you, and who are these people? You try to open your mouth but can't; panic takes over. Your limbs move awkwardly, leaving you to flail about pathetically. The man holds laughter in his eyes as the woman looks on pitifully. Then, with a sigh, she pushes her glasses up.
"Stop. You're going to ruin Remy's hard work. And I don't have the energy to do the ritual again."
Again, your body moves on command and halts in its flailing. You move your body to sit up properly, as lying down feels too vulnerable. Whatever is up with your body, this stranger is responsible and in control of you. You expect fear, but none comes. How could it be when the reason for your current awareness centers on this woman and Remy? You register that the two are talking, but their voices are nothing but a hum. As if the low electrical current running through the lights possesses feminine and masculine components. The fluid noise seeps through the sluggish sparks of brain activity: the world blurs, and focus leaves. You should worry about losing control, but the woman hasn't said you should. So, you won't fret.
"...Hey...hey, pay attention!" her voice breaks through.
Your eyes focus once more, and your head turns to her. Should you've been listening? You haven't been paying attention. But she doesn't seem angry. Remy has apparently been observing your body. However, none of his touches register. Even while looking at him flexing your foot, there's zero sensation. You should feel uncomfortable with a stranger touching you, but you can't.
Remy ends his analysis, "Everything is in order, Elise. The body should last three days, as long as it gets fridge for several hours."
"Thank you, love. It seems like I'll be able to keep my promise," Elise gives Remy a quick kiss, "Now that I got a zombie on my side, it's time to get you some clothes. So come along, undead, get off of the examination table."
Just like that, you're up and off the table. Following behind Elise, you notice that Remy is watching you closely. Despite the harsh stare, you feel nothing. Your brain goes cottony as you follow Elise outside the morgue operation room. In less than five minutes, Elise leads you into a locker room. She quietly hands you a gray sweatshirt and pants. Ordering you to change out of the hospital gown, she turns around to give you privacy. Picking up the discarded hospital gown, Elise tosses it into a large laundry basket. She tells you to follow her again, and you leave the morgue. The above world bathed in the gentle orange light is different from the sterile white of the underworld. Despite the living going about their day, no one notices an undead among them.
You take notice of your body when you make your way to the parking lot. It's foreign and holds experiences you'll never know. If you could speak, you'd ask Elise who the former owner was. You doubt that the previous host donated their body for possible possession by an alien spirit. That is a type of "science" that isn't government-supported.
"Will you get in the car?" Elise looks amused.
You open the passenger side and duck in. Then you close the car door behind you and buckle up. You have some will over your new body in these small, mundane moments. But you can't be sure that is the case. Only your thoughts are your own, for now at least. Elise starts the car and drives down the less busy street of the city. The windows are cracked open, and the early evening city noise is pleasant. You zone out and allow yourself to be a part of the living again. However, were you ever a living person? You would ask, but you're unable to talk.
"I can tell you got questions. I'll answer some, and others I will be unable to." You feel Elise's eyes briefly flicker towards you.
"The body you're possessing is unclaimed. The departed spirit's body is in good condition. It made it easier for me to call on you to inhabit it. I don't know if you're someone else's spirit or the original owner. I know you're not violent and can only stay in the living world for three days. After your spirit departs from this body, I don't know where your soul goes."
Hearing all this, you don't know what you can do. You can't ask for more details. You don't get any choice of when you'll stop obeying Elise. You have three days back in the living world doing whatever someone else wants. Being undead, you realize, is unfair. To cheat the natural law of the world, you must give up your free will. The rest of the car ride remains silent. Elise focuses on driving to your destination, and you're left to simmer in your thoughts. END.
