Corpse in the Courtroom
Friday Creature Feature
The corpse struts into the courtroom. Half of the country cheers. The closed doors rattle with survivors trying to fight their way through. The guards on each side of the animated undead have gaping bite marks in their arms. They’ll be zombies soon too. The judge was also bit on her way in, but she wants to get to her verdict before the big change.
“Before we begin this trial, Patient Zero, I am reminding you, you are being treated very fairly here. Back in the day, when a zombie would sprout out of the graveyard, we would shoot between the eyes on sight. Now, for the undead like you, we have to hear you out. Per your request.”
“This is a,” the rotting throat bubbles before the next word. “Witchhunt!”
All the zombies in the country howl like werewolves. The band of survivors continue to slam their fists in the wooden doors. The skeletons running the cameras can’t help but rattle their bones. They know their footage will always collect eyeballs as long as their cameras capture the corpse’s maggoty smile.
The judge begins to feel the chill of the virus in her veins. Her vision blurs into darkness. The blind woman wants to bring this creature to justice as fast as she can, but she can’t. Her body stiffens, one limb at a time. She hears her coffin calling.
“Patient Zero, you are the reason half of the world is undead,” the judge says, trying to keep her jaw on her head. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, but the law requires me to ask you to defend yourself.”
The zombie raises his little skeletal hands. His funeral suit looks big on him because half of his body is eaten away. Rats run out of his pants legs with mouths full of his flesh. His bottom teeth are more visible than his top teeth. His eyes are beady in their open sockets.
“They are all undead, but,” his one remaining lung inflates as much as a moldy meat bag can. “They are all free.” The meat bag empties itself.
“They didn’t choose to be undead,” the judge snaps.
“When you’re undead, you can bite whoever you want. I do it all the time. They like it, even if they don’t at first. You just bite them anyway.”
The group of living survivors storm the courtroom. The security guards shoot their bullets into the crowd of angry individuals. They fall to the floor, bleeding all over the corpse they want to dismember. Patient Zero bites every single one of the dying rebels. The security guards let their master eat. They love their bites. They wear them like badges of honor. The dying judge slams her gavel repeatedly.
“Order! Order! Order! Order!”
The gavel falls to the floor, along with her rotted hand. The skeleton media circus rejoices in woodwind hisses. The gavel-in-the-blood-puddle money shot is exactly what this historic moment needs. They can’t wait to see what memes will be made with the image. Patient Zero gives his famous ‘two thumb bones up’ seal of approval.
The undead authority figures follow Patient Zero in his victory parade out of the building. Before the doors close, the last living courtroom invader shoots her final bullet. Exhaling her last breath, she sees the bullet hit its target. Patient Zero stumbles away as a free monstrosity, unharmed.