Love Me Deadly by Que Son (free romance novels txt) 📕

I was now free to travel to wherever I wanted with the speed of light because I was a ghost. My soul flew to Philadelphia and to my lover's house and what did I see? She's in bed with another man. I looked into her mind and found her thoughts: she was thinking that I was stuck in the snowstorm and would not make it to the city anytime soon. So she called over the guy, someone she has been dating in secrecy for a long time. They had been doing it whenever I wasn't around. So I was looking at a betrayer and the thought that came to my mind immediately was kill her and eat her. But I couldn't do it in this ethereal form. I must be in a physical form in order to lay my hands on her, to make her feel my presence.

So I returned to the body, or what had used to be my body, and raised it, using the power of my will. The body struggled to stand. It jerked back and forth, trying to balance itself. Then it stood up straight. The body had become a zombie. Go to Philadelphia, I told the body. And it walked the zombie walk. I don't have to describe the zombie's gait because it has been shown repeatedly in the movies and you know what it looks like. Kind of funny. But I think that no matter how funny a zombie walks, you can't bear looking into its eyes: they are all white with red veins and they hypnotize you.

So I used my will power to make the body walk--the way a hypnotist makes his subjects do things--and I was going to make it walk all the way to Philadelphia.

But I knew the body was hungry. It had not eaten for a day. I was afraid that it might not be able to make it to the destination because its energy was almost exhausted. Just like a car cannot run without fuel. But I must make it walk as far as it can, and when it couldn't walk anymore, I would think of something. So, the body walked while I was watching from above. Not too far above, just about 5 feet above. The wind was blowing ferociously. And the body swayed to and fro but it kept walking, although somewhat slow. I didn't care how long it took for the body to get to where I wanted it to, it must get there and do what I want it to do which was to kill the woman and eat her. Ohhhh, food. Human flesh, that's what a zombie wants, more than anything in the world.

I made the body walk along the road. I could guide it in the right direction because despite the blinding snow, I was at an advantage: I was watching from above and able to anticipate what was ahead. A car was coming slowly toward the body, I directed the body to leave the surface of the road and walked to the side and thus avoided the collision. The car slowly proceeded without perhaps the driver even aware that he had just missed hitting a body. It was like manipulating an object by remote control. That's what zombies are: they don't know what they do. They only listen to what is told them from whatever source they don't even know. You can say they are robots. But they are not mere robots, they are robots that crave human flesh and they are constantly hungry. Hunger is the drive, the only drive behind all of a zombie's actions. And this robot was going to have a delicious feast waiting for him in that room in Philadelphia. Of course, the body was my body, or you may say "used to" be my body. I was now in the other world but not in a hurry to settle in that world yet. I had this thing to do and I must do it before I could happily camp in the blissful land of the dead.

But I ask me: If you love her so much, why must you kill her? Why not let her live? Loving someone means you want the best for that person, right? Nope, I am the most selfish person on the face of the earth, and when I love I am even more so, 1,000,000 times more. I love and I want the object of my love to be mine and only mine. And if the object of my love leaves me, I will kill it and eat it. Simple as that. No ifs ands or buts about it. That's why love is the most serious mental illness--even more dangerous than schizophrenia--for which there is no remedy except to be cuddled in the arms of the beloved and secured in the belief that the beloved is yours forever. That's the only medication to keep this mental illness in check.

But my beloved had betrayed me. What was I going to do? Let her have her way? No, that’s not possible. That’s not me. That’s not my principle. From the vantage point of the world of the dead, I could see she was having a blast with her other lover. I was only one of her lovers. Now I knew so, thanks to being dead. And that knowledge was killing me. I would never accept the position of being a lover among lovers of hers. I wanted to be her only lover. Now I knew that wasn't the case. So what was I going to do? Leave her alone? Don't give me that crap. Respect her freedom and personal integrity as an individual? What’s that? In love, there are no such things. In love, one becomes a savage, the most savage of savages. One loses all reasons and the ability to think. In love, one loses one's head. One becomes a Neanderthal, a tree-dweller, a hunter who hunts then eats his fill then rests and digests until he becomes hungry again then goes out and hunts again. He may have a mind, but the mind is reptilian. I am talking about me. I am not talking about you or the guy over there. I am talking about me. That's why this woman must die and become my food.

So the body walked. After about twenty miles, all of a sudden, it collapsed. It just dropped like a log--thump! And was buried under two feet of snow. I came close and looked at it. Obviously, it had run out of gas. I mean, there was no energy left in the body. It was decimated, a ravaged and butchered body. First by the accident, then by this brutal walk through this savage snow storm without any food in the stomach. But I couldn't leave the body lying there. It must do what I wanted it to do. I knew it wanted food, and I must take care of that. But first, it had to continue the walk. I told the body to stand on its feet again, this time a hundred times harder but not impossible. After many awkward starts, the body managed to stand on its two legs and started walking again. How difficult it was this time. I must find it food fast before it died. It could die at any moment. I meant, die a second time. It was now half dead, half alive, but without food soon, it might die totally, no more half alive. And if that happened, how the hell was I going to kill the woman and eat her? This was an emergency.

So I did my best to make the body walk and while hovering above it I looked in all directions for signs of food. And far away in the thick of the darkness and the snow, I saw a point of light. That might be a house, something, and if there were people, there was food, that's obvious. So I told the body to soldier on in the direction of the light which was about two miles off the road and the body had to tread its way through bushes and shrubs and eventually it arrived at the front door of the house. It was a cottage in the middle of a field. The windows were lighted and I looked inside and saw an old man and an old woman sitting at a fireplace. It was a real fireplace with woods burning inside a hole. The sight was quite cozy. The woman was reading a book and the man was dozing in his rocking chair. I surveyed the house and noticed that they had meats in the refrigerator. So I willed the body to push the door open and walk straight to the kitchen. When the body entered the house, a strong gush of winds swept the room and the woman looked up with her eyes open wide. She stared at the body, frozen of fear. She didn't make any move or say anything--much less scream--when she saw the bloody body approaching her. But then, it looked as if the body was aiming for the woman's throat and was going to eat her. No, I didn't want that. That woman was not my enemy. So I stopped the body cold, just one foot from the woman, and re-directed it toward the kitchen. Once in the kitchen the body knew what to do, I didn't have to instruct him on this matter. It opened the refrigerator door and took the meats, cooked and uncooked, and stuffed them into his mouth in rapid successions. He was hungry. Looked like it was beef, pork and chicken and goat and rabbit and duck and quails and whatever. There were other things in the fridge like eggs and cheese and vegetables and other crap but zombies don't like those things. Meat is what they crave. My zombie was eating meat but he wasn't very happy because the meat was not bloody. Without blood, the meat is much less tasty. In less than five minutes, the body finished all the meats it found in the refrigerator. Its dull eyes brightened a little, but I could see that it wasn't satisfied. It wanted to eat more which to me only made senses because that's how a zombie is: it is never full no matter how much it eats. There are two dogs sitting at the corner of the kitchen looking at the body with curious eyes. I wondered why they didn't bark. The body snatched the dogs off the floor and gnaws them, fur and all. And this time I saw satisfaction in the eyes of the zombie: the dog meat was raw and warm and bloody. After the two dogs are comfortably settled in the zombie's stomach, I directed it out of the house. The woman was still sitting there, frozen stiff like a block of ice. Her eyes were all white, as if she had passed out. Couldn't blame her for that. Who wouldn’t be afraid of a zombie, even if it is a slow moving one? I wonder why zombies are so slow, they walk as if the air around them is thick like cheese and they have to cut their way through to advance.

Once out of the house, the body walked with renewed energy. This time I was sure it could walk straight to Philadelphia without stopping for food again. In fact, what the zombie consumed in that house was worth a week of food for a family of five. I wondered why the old man and woman had so much food while there were only two of them. Hmm ... Perhaps