My official website is a dead zombie duck wandering the internet wasteland looking for brains and finding none, especially on facebook. This blog was started as a random drawing/story project about proto feminist yeh seemed like a good idea at the time. Now it is just a blog about my art in general with the occasional feminist zombie thrown in

Wednesday, 27 March 2013

It was beginning of November and the family made their annual trip to Devanira's grave. The entire family were there as part of the traditional mexican day of the dead to celebrate her life and remember her fondly. Her father laid a wreath of marigold over her gravestone while her mother placed three bottles of tequila by her grave. Her husband and two children had brought hand painted toy skulls which they also placed around Devanira's grave. They sat together and joined hands each taking a moments silence to think about the times they had spent with her.

Every year since the car crash it had been like this, at first it was difficult for the family to cope with the grief of such a sudden and violent loss. But each year it got a little easier and the pain was replaced with happy memories of her life. They remembered all the times she had been kind to them, all the selfless things she had done for her children and husband while she was alive and all joy she had brought to her parents.

Each year a member of the family would make a speech about Devanira, recalling a special moment or anecdote from her life. This year it was her fathers turn to talk, he was halfway through a lengthy speech about Devanira's beauty, warmth and kindness when he was interrupted by a rumbling under his feet. Loosing his balance and falling into his wife's ample breast he swore loudly to the amusement of the children. Their laughs soon stopped when a horrible cacophony of moans came from the graves around them. Other families began to run in fear as their long dead loved ones began clawing their way out of  their stinking resting places. Soon hundreds of undead were rampaging around the graveyard, eating anyone foolish enough to get caught in their path.

Devanira's father was in shock, still nestled in his wife's bosom he turned to see a skeletal hand push its way out of the earth, she clawed at the dirt and her awful skeletal head appeared. Her hair was still as black as night, but most of her flesh had rotted away, leaving an awful skeletal monstrosity of what she used to be. She had pulled herself out up to her waist and managed to grab one of the children's legs pulling the screaming pee stained brat towards her gaping mouth. She took a massive bite out of the child's calf tearing away muscle and tendons. The child collapsed in horror as the father managed to pull him away from his hell banshee of a spouse. Devanira noticed the tequila and grabbed a bottle, smashing the top off she poured it into her gaping jaws and all over her putrid face. Laughing horribly as tequila poured out of her throat she chewed on the piece of meat in her mouth. Her horrified mother went to reprimand Devanira's awful behaviour but before she had the chance to wag an angry finger she was smashed in the face with a jagged end of a broken tequila bottle. Her eyes gouged out she fell back into her husbands arms.

Meanwhile Devanira's husband was flipping the hell out. One of the kids had passed out while the other was vomiting everywhere. He tried to pick up the unconscious kid while dragging the other away by the arm but by this point Devanira had released herself from her grave. She pounced on the three of them and tore at her husbands back, he tried to put the kids in between himself and his awful zombie wife in the vain hope that her love for them would stop this awful behaviour. However Devanira couldn't give a flying f**k about the kids and instead of showing them maternal love and warmth ripped them into meat confetti. Her husband stood for a second in slack jawed horror, before he could really grasp what the hell had just happened two other zombies jumped on his back. Becoming a kind of human meals on wheels was the last thing he had really expected that day, it would be nice to say the last thing that went through his head was a happy memory of his wife and children. However the last thing that really went through his head was Devanira's claw like fist, closely followed by her zombie tongue licking out his brains.

It was around this point in the chaotic festivities that Devanira's father remembered what a complete total and utter b***h  she was. The family had conveniently forgotten all the times she had been cruel to the children, all the times she had cheated on her loyal husband and all the times she had upset her mother. They'd even forgotten her crazy drunken rampages and violent behaviour. Instead after her death they had slowly convinced themselves that she was a perfect daughter, a model wife and a loving and caring mother. In death she had reached a kind of perfection in their minds she could never have attained while alive. Now that she had come back as a hate fueled zombie her father could see her as what she really had been, every bit as ugly on the inside as what she was on the outside, basically an absolute awful c**t.

His wife lying blind in the dirt by his side, Devanira's father lost it. Seeing his grandchildren eviscerated, his wife blinded and his son in law turned into a brain buffet was too much. He grabbed one of the remaining bottles of tequila and smashed it on the corner of his daughter's grave. Running at her full pelt he sunk the glass into her skull, stabbing the bottle down in a violent rage again and again until she lay motionless on the bloodied ground. Looking down at her he spat on her corpse and cursed the day she had entered his life.

Surrounded by hundreds of undead he knew he and his wife wouldn't be able to escape the cemetery, but he took some comfort knowing that his awful daughter was probably burning in hell and no longer wreaking havoc here on earth.

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