Don’t ask me how it works. I push back Mr. Morgan’s gravestone, and descend the long set of stairs to the hallway where my apartment is. I’m at the very end, which would increase the sense of claustrophobia for most people, but that’s not the part that really bothers me. Maybe it would be if there weren’t so many other things to be horrified by.
The great thing about this apartment is that I’m allowed to stay here for free. That is, I don’t have to pay money at all. But I do have to do labor. You see, american culture is more fucked up than you give it credit for. I have to…film things.
Oh god, it’ s so disgusting watching two corpses go at it like horny rabbits. But I have to make sure the camera is rolling and streaming live to Brian Talbot’s personal website.
“You wouldn’t believe the market for this kind of thing,” Brian tells me. And I didn’t, at first. Ever since I’ve been at the helm, though, he tells me traffic at the sight has been up.
“You’re an excellent camera man. Keep up the good work, and you might actually get some funding on the side.”
Except staying here is beginning to take its toll on me for obvious reasons. However, I don’t have any other options at the moment.
So, between the hours of 2-4pm, I have to watch two zombies screw each other’s non-brains out. Listen to the sickening sucking sounds. Make sure the camera is at the right angle.
What happened after last night’s session scarred me for life.
I had just wrapped up another vomit inducing shoot when I heard scratching coming from the wall separating the room the camera was in, from the room I was charged with spying on.
Strange, I thought. That never usually happened before.
I peered through the camera lens to find a zombie’s rotting face looking back at me.
My heart thudded in my chest, and I grabbed it with one hand in an effort to slow it down. As soon as I managed to calm down just a little, I looked through the lens again. It appeared the two corpses were trying to shuffle out of the doorway leading into the hallway which could lead to my room.
That wasn’t supposed to happen!
Mr. Talbot said he trained the zombies to “perform” and never leave the bed he provided for them. They’d keep doing this until enough of them rotted away that they died all over again.
But here they were, trying to shamble out of the room. I hurried out of mine just in time to see the two zombies just standing there, eyes empty, backs hunched over. They seemed as confused as ever.
One of them sort of lurched forward which caused me to quickly grab the doorknob and slam the door shut. Something bumped up against the door, then I heard a thud on the floor.
Dumb zombies.
Just as I was turning away, I saw Nina, the only other live human aside from Mr. Talbot and myself. She gave me a hesitant smile, and I waved awkwardly.
I wasn’t naïve. I knew what “services” Talbot made Nina perform so that she could live here without having to pay rent. I shuddered at the thought. I had a revelation then that nothing in this grotto of sin was free.
Nina gave me a final glance before she went inside her apartment. I truly felt bad for her, and wished there was something I could do to help.
I shook my head, trying to clear it after what I had just seen. Those walking corpses truly possessed minds of their own, despite what Talbot said. I walked to the other end of the hall to his apartment door. Hesitated before knocking. It wasn’t part of my job description per se, but I figured I’d inform him of the situation.
Mr. Talbot answered the door in his bathrobe, hazy eyed and looking as if he had been doing drugs. He swayed a bit, seemed like he might topple over. He clutched something in his hand.
“That a doll in your hand, Mr. Talbot?” I asked, trying to keep the humor out of my voice. The thing was covered in a red fabric, with two grey xs instead of eyes.
“Don’t judge me, Miles. You’re just a glorified camera monkey!” he slurred. Swayed a bit more. “All you do is film that decaying flesh!”
“That’s exactly why I’m here. I’m trying to be professional. Anyway, you said the zombies would just remain on the bed, right? Well, they almost escaped, and would’ve if I hadn’t shut the door.”
“What? Do you want a Good Samaritan award, or something? Get lost. It’s just this damn doll. Got it off eBay. Controls the d-dead,” Mr. Talbot replied, then slammed the door in my face.
I knew what I needed to do. I needed that damn doll.
My plan was to wait for Mr. Talbot to fall asleep, and then sneak into his apartment and snatch it. I figured I’d destroy it or toss it into the big pond near the border of the cemetery. Then my bizarre life could get back to normal.
I tried to pass the time inside my own room by putting on my large pair of headphones and reading one of the few books I owned. Once my clock read 10:00pm, I got up and made my way to Mr. Talbot’s door. He wasn’t that old, but between the drinking and being an unhealthy bastard he typically fell asleep early. I could sometimes make out his snoring all the way down the hall.
I did my best to quietly pick the lock. Only took me a couple of tries.
When I opened the door, I got the shock of my life.
Nina sat on the small red chair opposite the bed, watching the corpses eat Mr. Talbot’s body with a mixture of satisfaction and horror. One of the corpses stood up and turned its head toward mine.
My throat went dry as I saw it just glare into me. But Nina only squeezed the doll and the thing went back to its task. I just watched them eat Mr. Talbot without saying a word.
Now Nina controls this little apartment complex beneath the cemetery. I better do what she says, or I’ll end up like the bloated drunkard who had been eaten to death by his undead porn actors.
Undead and unpaid, I thought.
Nina said she was interested in starting a business down here. Something focusing on showmanship. Captivating an audience. Although it would be different than Mr. Talbot’s vision.
“Maybe I’ll convince perverts to meet me in the cemetery. Lure them down here and let the dead rip them to shreds.”
I realized then I couldn’t argue with her logic. It was a sound business plan.
Nina looked at me as if to say, “you better stay out of my way.”