Wesley and the Sex Zombies (2 page)

"What?" Maxi's fingers tightening fingers sank deep into her fast-degrading flesh.

"Steady on!" She prized off his claw-like grip and tried to smooth away the marks. "Think about it Maxi. Work it out before your brain dissolves."

"Bloody hellfire! No bonking! I'll die!"

"You can't, you idiot! But something much worse will happen if we don't get lucky soon." She wanted to go easy on him, but things were getting too dire. "If there are no nice, firm, pulsing, throbbing bits to do the nice, firm, pulsing and throbbing, I'm afraid we'll have a boring old time of it. All I hope is that Serena's having as much trouble as we are!"

She was just about to smash her fist on the table in anger, but stopped sharply. Better not do things like that now. Without benefit of a sorcerer's regenerative powers, a fit of pique could snap her hand clean off. She could continue casting the patterns for a while yet; and this, combined with Maxi's magic machinations, would present an
image
of life. But without a sorcerer to renew them, their hours were numbered. Why in Asmodeus' name had the best sorceress they had ever trined with gone and jiggered off to live with a mortal?

Maxi, who she had sensed in her mind trying to comfort her, suddenly switched his communication back to verbal, "Yeah, I wonder how she's getting on with her human?"

"Not very well, probably," said Luciferia with some satisfaction. Their impetuous erstwhile friend had made it as difficult for herself as she had for them. "She's got to convert him more or less immediately, then
they've
got to find a third too."

"I wonder which he is?" said Maxi musingly.

"Probably an illusionist if he draws... but it's no concern of ours. If we don't latch onto
our
sorcerer soon, my darling, we're done for!"

"Or another sorceress," said Maxi hopefully.

 "Nope, it's a sorcerer. And I've an inkling I just may have spotted him!"

"Have you? Where? Where? Let's get him!"

"Hold your horses. I can't just walk up to this guy and beg him to stop me decomposing, can I? Get real, Maxi!"

"What's real about being an animated corpse?" Maxi queried pleasantly; and Luciferia was forced to laugh, in spite of the fact that her jaw suddenly didn't seem to want to work properly any more.

"Okay then, Smartass, let's make a plan."

*** *** ***

Wesley's initial enthusiasm was waning. It wasn't that he was bored with the story, it was just that it wouldn't seem to go the way he had planned.

His first idea had been for the zombie couple to be evil: black-hearted fiends from Hell with designs on his naive but well-meaning hero. The dénouement would be for Mr. Good and True to vanquish the demons and send them back to oblivion.

Unfortunately, his zombies wouldn't toe the line. They kept turning out "nice". Kind. Caring. They had taken control of his story and now he couldn't do a thing with it!

Loneliness was the problem, he realized. His friendships were always getting taken from him. He'd lost Ethan to the mysterious Serena and he had probably lost Lindy too. Consequently, he was subconsciously making his characters into his friends. And his lovers. Even if it did mean demonic pacts and carnal congress with the living dead.

So, if he was stuck with the plot, how about finding a title? That sometimes helped.

He tried out "Midnight Hour", "The Road to Hell", and "Three of a Kind", but none of these really caught his imagination. He might as well call it something stupid like "Wesley and the Sex-Zombies" and be done with it. Shit, he would be giving it one of those clichéd "and it was all a dream" endings next. Perhaps his raggedy travelling queen could inspire him?  He decided to risk another peek; but when he turned around, the outlandish couple had gone and a mind-numbingly ordinary family group had replaced them at the table they'd occupied.

Wesley felt more bitter disappointment. Even his two "sex zombies" had let him down now, just like everyone else.

Why hadn't he had the guts to approach them? He could have given them a lift somewhere. They would probably have turned out to be deadly boring after all that fantasizing, but at least it would have been better than being alone.

*** *** ***

In an alley, tucked away behind the kitchens, bold Luciferia Jones had now lost most of her confidence -- and virtually all of her beauty. Her perfect bone structure was still very much in evidence though; and frighteningly so, because now a good deal of it was actually visible. Big, sad tears rolled over what was left of her cheeks, and she cringed like an animal from the light, desperate to hide her sorry state from the eyes of her beloved fellow traveler.

"I never believed it would get this far, Maxi," she sobbed, "Please don't look at me! I'm not all that nice any more."

"Hush, Lucie. It's all right," he whispered, turning her ravaged face towards him. He looked at her without a trace of revulsion or horror, and Lucie felt wave after wave of consolation being pushed across the mind-link that joined them. "It doesn't matter to me what you look like. I love you."

"Even when all that's left of me is just a bag of slimy bones?"

"I'll love you for all eternity, Luciferia my queen," he replied gravely, "I'll still love you when we're both nothing more than sentient dust!"

"Oh Maxi, I love you too!" mumbled Luciferia, tangling the words in the ruins of her mouth. Aching with feeling, she laid her finger-bones against her lover's cheek. A cheek that was green-hued and vaguely slippery now, she observed sadly. Maxi had more power left than she did, but even he was on his way out now. His lips were freezing as he laid them reverently on her smudgy eyes, her bare white cheekbones and the blurred toothy space where her own shapely lips should have been.

"Cheer up, Lucie, let's be together just one more time... then blow all our reserves on this sorcerer." She felt the grinding of his bones as he pressed himself against her, and then something harder and more insistent than bone, poking at her soft, sagging belly.

"I doubt if we'll get close enough now," she gasped as he whipped up the rags of her skirt, "He'll run a mile as soon as he sets eyes on us. Never mind letting us... Oh, Maxi!" She whimpered with pleasure as he entered her, plunging his long, cool shaft into her yielding mushiness with a stroke that was deep, sweet and true, "Never mind letting us touch him!"

"But you said you'd got through to him," persisted Maxi, his thin hips pumping her so hard and fast that she rattled.

"Oh God, yes! Maxi!" she groaned, both answering and coming simultaneously as her last shred of muscle tone embraced him, "But I'd hoped we might still be presentable to look at."

"We're not so bad," the jerking Maxi panted, showing a hot flash of rapture in the darkness of his void-cold eyes.

"Oh Sweetheart, bless you, but even you don't look like death warmed up any more. And as for me..." She let her face, a study in disintegration, speak for itself.

"We've nothing to lose!" said Maximillian, his voice firm, his body less so, and his icicle penis now soft, "We might as well give it a whirl."

"You're right, my darling, we'll try," Luciferia replied, a tiny flame of hope alight in her shivering terror. She must try, she decided, she must! If only for her beloved Maxi's sake...

*** *** ***

"Goddamnit to hell!"

A figure leapt out of the bushes and Wesley jammed on the brakes. He had been trundling his battered old Ford along the poorly lit slipway and it took him several seconds to recognize who it was he had nearly killed: the slim, crew-cut youth from the cafeteria.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" Wesley bellowed, more in shock than in anger. "You could've been k-" The word itself died in his mouth as he caught sight of the young man's face.

The unwitting hero of his story had looked pale in the cafe but now looked positively terminal. So much so that Wesley felt his own face blanch.

"Good evening, my name is Maximillian Tesoro," the ghoul said politely, "I wonder if you could give my associate and me a lift?"

Wesley's mouth opened and shut several times before words were able to materialize. "Er... um... yes... I suppose so," he stuttered. "Where is she?"

"Just here," answered the young man with what Wesley supposed was meant to be a grin. Quite frankly this "Maximillian" gave him the creeps; and while he knew what he should do was jam his foot on the accelerator and get away like a bat out of hell, a strange, narcotic lethargy made it easier to comply than resist.

A female silhouette appeared out of the darkness, a woman whose long, reddish hair streamed out wildly in the breeze, whipping free of the voluminous, shredded scarf that shrouded her face and her neck.

"It's OK, Lucie my love," Maxi cried out, "Wesley will take us. Everything's going to be all right!"

"Hang on a minute!" snapped Wesley, regaining some of his wits, "Who is she? And how the hell do you know my name?"

"My name is Luciferia Jones," said a seductive but strangely garbled voice, and the odd couple got into the car -- Maximillian in the back, and Luciferia in the seat beside Wesley, "and if I told you how we knew you, you mosht shertainly wouldn't believe ush."

"Er... I wouldn't move off just yet," said Maximillian quietly as Wesley returned his attention to the road and reached down to release the handbrake.

"Look here, you two!" He was getting pretty fed up of being told what to do, "What's your game? I..." He heard the soft swish of fabric unwinding, and turned towards...

"Oh God... OhGodohGodohGod..."

Luciferia's face was still had an eye-catching pallor, but now it was the pure shimmering white of fleshless bone. Her eyes and lips were still dark and compelling: but her eyes were now transformed into a staring pair of bloodshot, lidless orbs and a ragged, broken maw where her kissable red mouth had once been.

Wesley was frozen. Completely. Suddenly writing witty little stories about zombies just didn't seem such a clever thing to do.

"Wha... wha... what do you want with me?"

"We'd like you to join us," Maxi said amiably, glancing at Luciferia for a prompting nod. Wesley got the impression the creature that had once been a woman was the one who usually did the talking, but now her mouth wasn't up to the job. "We need you, Wesley Greensward, and we believe that you need us. But we can't prove it to you right at this moment."

"Yeth... ash you can shee, we're not at our besht," bubbled Luciferia, grinning abominably as foaming green spittle trickled out over her crumpled lips and down onto the bone of her chin. She shook her head and one eyeball wobbled dangerously in its socket. "Ish no good, Maxi, you'll haveta tell him." She held out a claw to her companion, who passed her a tattered handkerchief to wipe up the slime from her face. Or what remained of it.

"Wesley, you have the power to complete our triad. We two are only a part of three and we can't exist much longer without our sorcerer. You are that sorcerer. You must agree to join us."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm a computer programmer not some kind of wizard! You people are mad!" Nervously, he took off his glasses and polished them: partly as a reflex action, partly to try and convince himself that his eyes were playing silly buggers with him. "I'm dreaming, that's what it is! I'm tired, I'm under stress and all those horror stories are screwing up my head!"

"This is no dream, Wesley," insisted Maxi, "You must help us. You'll come to no harm. Quite the reverse. Things will be so much better for you with us. You'll never be lonely again because we'll always be here with you. And when we're firing on all cylinders, we can do you more good than you could possibly imagine. All your dreams can come true, Wesley. All the
nice
ones.'

A warm, sensuous glow seemed to filter through the chill in the car. What a relief it would be to have friends that would never leave him. Somebody -- or something -- who would never let him down. OK, so Luciferia wasn't a pretty sight and Maximillian was getting more and more decrepit as every second passed, but at least they seemed to like him. There was an indefinable honesty about them and -- in spite of their revolting appearance -- a macabre and almost primordial attractiveness. Hard as it was to believe, Luciferia Jones and Maximillian Tesoro were definitely his kind of people.

Ethan's betrayal and the company's callous attitude and all the publishers who had poured scorn on his stories; all these things seemed a million miles away now. The only reality was the peculiar but kindly couple who were decomposing with alarming rapidity over his brand new grey plush seat covers.

"Pleashe?" appealed Luciferia, a tear forming in the cavernous socket that held the festering remains of her eye.

"What do I have to do?" Wesley whispered, adrift on a joyous, inevitable wave.

"Let me kish you..." Trailing runny, shredding skin, her fingers settled softly on his groin.

Wesley stomach flopped rebelliously. Oh God! Oh no! He couldn't let this thing suck his cock! His head reeled, befuddled by the stench of bad flesh, and the idea of his penis engulfed in a well of necrotic corruption.

"Pleashe help me, Weshley..." The horror that had formerly been beauty sobbed piteously.

Wesley nodded in resignation, and with a feeling that at long, long last he was coming home, he lay back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Bones clicked and rattled as fingers fumbled quickly at his clothing. An icy, gelid mist seemed to waft across his penis, and then he was drawn in and enclosed, his shaft suddenly stiff and alive in a spongy, satin-lined cavern that seemed to shift and melt around him. His hips bucked as the slithering stub of her tongue found his keenest and most sensitive place. He moaned incoherently and felt Maximillian's bony fingers soothe his cheek -- and then, in a blaze of incandescent sweetness, he felt his seed, his soul, and his very life come pumping forth joyfully from his loins to fill up Luciferia's cold, dead mouth.

*** *** ***

It was nearly mid-day and Wesley Greensward woke up as a very happy man. His memories were fuzzy, but he did have a distinct recollection that last night he had enjoyed adventurous sex in a score of new positions with not one, but two enthusiastic partners. His body should have ached and been sore, but instead he felt absolutely wonderful.