Zombie short

Things were normal. But whether “normal” meant all was well was yet to be seen.

The denizens of the peaceful town of Granite Hills were settling into their new daily routine with their undead wives in tow. Occupying soldiers flittered about the town with their husbands in tow, drinking in all the small-town life had to offer.

They had taken the town overnight. Literally. One morning the folks of Granite Hills woke up, went to fetch a pail of water from the well and ran smackdab into an army of zombies, ghouls, dulahans and vampires, all patiently waiting for the first signs of life from the populace. Unconditional surrender was quickly agreed upon, as most of the militia didn’t have pants on yet. An occupational force was left behind, and the rest of the army marched on towards the next village.

Most of the villagers were pleasantly surprised by their new wives or transformations into undead. Even the human women who had become zombies retained most of their mental faculties with the exception of a few “bad bites.” And of course, Nininger’s wife.
Nininger was a kindly soul. A reserved but well-intentioned fellow that any monster would have loved to marry. But his was a special case.

After the undead had seized Granite Hills, a lich had demanded to be taken to the graveyard to “inspect the stock.” She had forced the gravedigger and priest to recount the passing of as many headstones as they could, while she took notes. Some graves were flagged for resurrection, while older graves were left alone. The lich remained impassive, until they reached Kobell’s grave.

“This one. What’s her story?”

~~~~~

The daughter of a poor farmer on the outskirts of town, Kobell had been too busy helping her father on the farm to attend school or play with any of the other children. Socialization was limited to her younger siblings, whom she doted on and loved with all her heart. And Nininger.

Nininger was the apprentice herbalist and apothecary, studying under an elder. Most of his work entailed gathering plants, roots, and fungi from the forest for whatever ailments plagued Granite Hill that season. Kobell also frequented the woods, in search of sustenance to supplement her family’s sporadic diet. They bonded over their need for the same plants, and spent hours traipsing through the woods in search of the next prize. Kobell was always eager to hear the goings on of the town proper, even if the most exciting thing was a horse throwing a shoe. Nininger found it easy to open up to her and speak freely, becoming more confident in the stories he told. Kobell had little to tell him in return, besides her aspirations and dreams. From a young age, she had proudly boasted that she would be a mother soon, and the best one there ever was at that. Nininger asked her if she was ready to have a child when she herself was still so little, but she had insisted that she was going to be a momma “as soon as possible.”

But as the years wore on, Nininger took on more responsibility in town. The medical needs of many cut his time with Kobell short. Even in the early spring, when the lush winds blew fog and fortune through the forest, he would have only a scant few hours to chat with Kobell before returning to his charge. Kobell had likewise taken up slack at the family farm. It was now SHE who took the crop to market, and ensured that the farm’s tools were maintenance and ready for the next season. Whenever she could, she would stop by Nininger’s shop, “just to buy some things for the winter.”

The townsfolk all saw the writing on the wall. Everyone who knew the two expected that they would be wed soon. Bachelors kept away from Kobell; she only had eyes for Nininger. Not that she would have had many suitors even if she wasn’t smitten with him. A life of work on the farm had left her with an impressive physique, and some fluke of genetics had bestowed her with exceptional height. She didn’t tower over most people, but she was tall enough to be imposing when juxtaposed with the demure women of the town.

Nininger noted her advances, but was unsure of how to proceed and too busy to reciprocate her feelings properly. He always assumed that he would find the time to straighten things out in the future. But life is a callous and uncaring mistress; it waits for no man and abides no plan. Kobell was killed on a cold winter’s morning when she went to milk the cows and was kicked by an old nag that was spooked when a milk pail fell. Nininger was called out to the farm by one of her younger siblings to save her, but he quickly surmised that she had been killed instantly by the kick.

Kobell was buried as soon as a fresh grave could be dug. Nininger was understandably ruined by her death. Once merely reserved and reticent, he now fulfilled his medical services amidst an aura of fatigued gloom. The townsfolk watched him with pity, knowing nothing they offered could raise his spirits.

~~~~~~

By the time the grave digger had finished recounting the tale, every monster in the lich’s cadre of corpses was misty eyed. Even the brash ghoul who had made some off-color jokes about the way some of the other villagers had died had to step away and hide her face.
Kobell was subsequently resurrected and “touched up” by the undead stylists who accompanied the occupational force. Not only undead, the stylists also included disciples of Eros who helped to quell any anxieties or apprehensions a man might have about marrying an undead. No, you aren’t a necrophiliac. No, she won’t eat you in your sleep. No, you can’t just leave her at home for a few days. Yes, she loves you; she just has a funny way of showing it. The ladies also helped gussy up the zombies (especially the new ones) to make sure that they weren’t walking around naked or caked in mud and dirty rags.

“You look FABULOUS!” squealed the phantom seamstress. “I bet that hunk won’t be able to keep his hands off you!” she said giving Kobell an affectionate slap on the butt with her ghost tail. Her plush rump jiggled, and for the first time in decades the phantom felt a twang of envy for the corporeal.

Kobell grunted and shuffled forwards into a wall.

“Ha ha, yeah. Walking can take some getting used to.” Chuckled the phantom. “Here, let me spin you around, and…”

Kobell swiveled with the phantoms guidance and teetered in place. Taking another short step, her ankle bent at a strange angle and she plummeted face first into the floor.

“Shit!” hissed the phantom. She pulled Kobell back up and dusted her off, briefly checking her mouth to make sure no teeth had come loose. The phantom sighed in relief as she saw that all Kobell’s teeth were still socketed firmly in her gums. “Don’t do that! You’ll get me fired…” muttered the phantom, looking around to make sure no one had seen.

Kobell groaned and sniffed. Lurching forward, she began to shuffle around again.

“What is it, girl? Do you smell your man?~ Where is he? Huh? Is he over there?~” said the phantom.

A spectral hand smacked the phantom upside the head hard enough to knock her mask askew.

“Ow!”

“Stop bullying the new raises.” Chided the wight. “We’re taking her to her husband, so you’ll have to find a new toy to play with.”

“Hmph! Some thanks after all I did for this one.” Huffed the phantom.

“I admit, she does look good…”

Kobell was now dressed in a modest summer dress, with a stylish belt to accentuate her wide hips and slim waist. Originally the phantom had also wanted to put her into lace-up boots, but decided that she couldn’t put Nininger through the same ordeal she endured trying to get Kobell to stand still long enough to tie the laces. Slip on boots would do just fine instead. The ensemble was plain, but suited Kobell well. Tried and true to what she would have worn in life.

“Well, I try.” Smirked the phantom with a shrug. “I’m surprised that the dent in her head healed so well.”

“The boss put her heart and soul into this one. I’M surprised she can’t tap-dance, given how much mana she was inundated with.” Said the wight.

“You’re going to make that man very happy~” said the phantom nuzzling Kobell. “Now go get ‘em, sister!”

The wight rolled her eyes. Taking Kobell by the hand, she guided her towards her fiancé.

“I heard your story from the others. ‘Never had time in life to love,’ huh? Heh, classic mortal excuse.” Chuckled the wight with a melancholy smile. “We’ve taken over medical services for the community, so he doesn’t have any excuse now. Make sure he pays attention to you, okay?”

Kobell groaned and watched a child run by. The nice thing about being so small was that when the town was suddenly overrun with shambling albeit friendly corpses, you just kind of rolled with it. The young man glanced at Kobell fretfully for a second before continuing on his way.

“Come on, I’ve got other brides to escort.” Said the wight, tugging her sleeve.

Like other monsters, Kobell’s instinctual sense of where the object of her affection was made it relatively easy to corral her towards her keeper. The wight was only there to make sure she didn’t get stuck going down an alley and wind up wearing her nails off trying to claw down a dead end. She was also a sucker for seeing a monster meet her man for the first time, and kept a detailed diary to gush about all the unions she witnessed. But no one could ever know that; she had an image to keep.

“Let’s see… Ah! Here we go.” Said the wight, pocketing the scrap of paper with Nininger’s address written on it. Raising a hand, she pounded on the door a few times. “Open up! Undead’s order.” Barked the wight.

Kobell sniffed and groaned at a slightly higher than usual pitch. Her steps became more purposeful as she approached the door.

“You can sense him, huh? Wait for him to open the door, love. It’s impolite to leave claw marks on someone’s door.” Said the wight, restraining her by the collar of her dress.

The door opened and Nininger peeked through.

“What do you wa-“

Kobell gurgled happily and tried to stick her hand through the gap to grab him. Nininger screamed at the sight of his dead childhood friend trying to accost him, and slammed the door shut on her hand. Kobell screeched in pain, which only elicited more fear from Nininger.

“Keep her away from me!” cried Nininger.

“You’re hurting her!” roared the lich.

Kobell growled and snaked her other hand into the crack. Nininger tried to wrestle with her for a few seconds, and ultimately decided that repeatedly slamming her digits with the door would be the best way to dissuade her from trespassing. Kobell shrieked again as Nininger bravely defended his home from a lonely corpse.

“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!” Shouted the wight.

Summoning one of her spectral claws, she ripped the door off at the hinge. Nininger fell and scrambled back into his house as his precious door and bulwark against the onslaught of unsolicited affection was reduced to splinters.

“Nininger, this is your wife.” Panted the wight, pushing Kobell in.

“What?! But-“

“You don’t get to say no.” said the wight coldly. Nininger gulped.

“What am I supposed to do?” asked Nininger fearfully.

“Fuck her, genius. I thought you were supposed to be smart?”

Kobell cooed happily and collapsed onto Nininger. He pushed her to the side and sat up.

“What?!”

“You heard me, virgin. Look at it this way, the sooner you lay her, the sooner she’ll be able to form a complete sentence.” Said the wight.

Kobell wrapped Nininger into a hug and began to squeeze him. The air being crushed from his lunges stifled his last protest.

“I’ll check back in a few days. Oh, and if you don’t give her enough loving, I’ll enforce mandatory dates. Here’s a pamphlet that tells you everything you need to know about taking care of her, if you didn’t already know.”

The wight tossed a piece of paper at him, and waved goodbye to the newlyweds as she trotted off down the street. That was such a letdown! Not romantic at all! To think such a sweet girl would fall for such an insensitive man. The diary would be hearing about this, yes sir!

Nininger squirmed in Kobell’s embrace.

“Kobell, let me go!”

Kobell ignored him. She was content to lie next to him and snuggle.

“I’ve got work to do! It’s not urgent or anything, but… Can we at least stand up?” pleaded Nininger.

Kobell grunted.

Sighing, Nininger wriggled and thrashed until he could get himself into a squatting position. Clenching his teeth, he raised himself and the trailing zombie into a hunched position. Kobell let out a huff of annoyance, but relented and began supporting her own weight again.

“Ooh… Look what she did to my door! Who am I supposed to call at this hour?” said Nininger. Kobell shuffled behind him and hugged him again. It was a strange sensation; her skin wasn’t as cold as a corpse, but she clearly wasn’t alive either. Chilly, Nininger supposed. A tad uncomfortable, yet strangely calming.

“I suppose burglars aren’t a threat. They rounded up every cutpurse and thief in town. Aww, but the nights are too cold for a hole this size!”

Kobell nuzzled the back of his head. Nininger shuddered.

“Really, what am I going to do with you? Can you even speak?” he asked.

Kobell cocked her head.

Nininger pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you even eat? CAN you eat? Am I going to have to stick a tube full of food and water down your throat twice a day? I REALLY hope you can’t die twice…”

 He eyed the paper on the ground. A long trip to make with an undead on your back…

“Kobell, can you hand me that?” asked Nininger over his shoulder. He pointed at the paper and thrust his hand a few times.

Kobell huffed and tried to drag him away. Nininger yelped and tried to flee as his wife absconded with him.

“Wait! Stop! Where are you taking me! Let me walk if you want to go somewhere!” he protested.

Inch by inch, Kobell directed the chaotic tango into the sitting room and towards the couch. Kobell paused for a moment.

“THIS is what you dragged me here for?! Did you just want to sit down?” panted Nininger.

Kobell’s brow furrowed in though. Nininger began to panic after the second minute.

“Are you broken? Do you need a doctor? Or… whatever a zombie apothecary would be called?”

Kobell’s eyes slowly closed. She grunted and nodded. Without warning, she heaved Nininger onto the couch. He hit the backrest and slid down to the cushions with an oomph. Kobell wasted no time getting back on top of him. Wrapping him in a hug again, she rolled them over so that he was on top of her.

Nininger, being a man of science, had quickly come to understand that attempting to physically resist an indefatigable corpse was a road to ruin.

“So we’re on the couch. Are you satisfied?” he asked, only half sarcastically.

Kobell hummed and tried to force his head further down her body. Nininger hesitated; getting a face full of zombie sweater-meat wasn’t something he was comfortable with, even if it DID appear to be in good condition.

Kobell grunted in annoyance.

“Fine! Fine. I’m going, see?” grumbled Nininger.

He rested his head on her left breast. If he was in this position already, he might as well satisfy his curiosity. Shifting his head, he tried to listen for a heartbeat. Adjusting several times, he heard nothing. So Kobell’s reanimation was completely magic. Fascinating…

  Slowly, she began to run her fingers through his hair. Run may not be the proper word. Her dexterity wasn’t what it used to be. Instead of an adroit caress, she more or less just groped at his hair; clenching locks in and out of her powerful fist. Not that Kobell seemed to mind. Nininger glanced up at her. She was completely enthralled by the simple action of squeezing his wavy hair.

“Kobell.” He said.

She glanced at him. When he didn’t follow up the address, she went back to patting his hair.

“Potato.” Said Nininger. Nothing.

“House. Table. Saw. Book.” Said Nininger. “Kobell.”

Kobell stopped again.

“At least you know your own name. But… I wonder how much of ‘you’ is still left in there…” said Nininger. For all he knew, the lich could have stuffed any old soul back into Kobell’s body.

On the next “stroke,” Kobell failed to open her fist as she pulled it away. Nininger’s head was lifted away by the hair.

“Ow!” grunted Nininger.

Kobell moaned loudly and hugged him. Rocking him back and forth, she let out a deluge of grunts, moans, hiccups and sniffles.

“What?! What’s wrong?!” asked Nininger.

Kobell gently pet his head and tried to kiss the spot she had tugged. Without proper control of her lips, she ended up just pressing her mouth against his head.

“Are you worried about me?” asked Nininger. Seeing Kobell with tears in her eyes stirred something deep within him. The only times she had cried when she was alive was when she was worried for someone else.

He clasped her hand. She curled her fingers around his without squeezing.

“I’m fine. See? You didn’t hurt me.”

Kobell sniffed and wiped her eyes on Nininger’s head.

“Kobell? Listen, we can sit here for a few minutes, but I do have some work to do. And I want to read that pamphlet eventually. I still don’t know what’s going on…”

~~~~~~

Nininger was roused by the growling of his stomach. Kobell grunted to protest his stretching but allowed him to get the blood flowing back into his limbs. Her body was a strikingly good mattress; Nininger felt more refreshed resting on top of her than he ever had resting on a mattress. The stress from the whole situation must have lulled him into a deeper sleep than normal.

“Kobell, I don’t know if or what you eat, but I have to make myself something.” Said Nininger.

He sat up in her embrace. Kobell let him go without protest. Tentatively, Nininger took a small step away from her. Kobell watched him. Nininger shook his head. Her strange mannerisms would take some getting used to. She seemed to have a child-like attachment to him.
On his way to the kitchen, Nininger snagged the pamphlet from his ruined mudroom.

“So You Married a Zombie: An Idiot’s Guide to Wedding the Dead”

He frowned. Surely they could have made the title less inflammatory. Opening the pamphlet he skipped the introduction and searched for the first passage he could find about food.

“Worried that a ravenous zombie might eat you? How about eat you out of house and home? Worry not! As an undead, your wife does not need food, water, or air! Transferring energy into her through sex and physical contact will fill her with the vim and vigor she needs to reciprocate your love.”

Nininger set down the jar of oil in his hand and read the last sentence again in disbelief. THAT was what they had turned Kobell into?! Some kind of cum-powered meat golem? His stomach churned. From the living room, Nininger heard Kobell moan and begin shuffling towards him. He shuddered at the prospect of intercorpse.

Stoking his stove, he poured a bit of oil into the pan and began to cook up a slab of meat for himself. Looks like he would still be cooking for one from now on. Kobell finally made it into the kitchen. Seeing her husband, she cooed happily and marched towards him.
“No! No, no no. YOU stay OUT of the kitchen.” Commanded Nininger.

Kobell gawked at him with the same slack jawed expression she always wore.

“If you can’t walk right, then you’re not allowed anywhere near a fire.” Said Nininger. This was for his own safety as well as his; Nininger wasn’t sure if the lich could revive something that had been burnt to a crisp, and he wasn’t keen on finding out. Fetching a broom, he stuffed it through one armhole of Kobell’s dress and out the other. Nininger took a step back into the kitchen. Kobell tried to follow him again, but was stopped when the broom handle hit the doorframe. Whining, she grasped futile at Nininger.

“Calm down. After I make food we can… I don’t know, sit together I guess.” Said Nininger.

The minutes ticked by as he seasoned his food and prepared the rest of the meal. Occasionally he would glance over at Kobell to make sure that she hadn’t removed the broom. Plating his meal, he was now faced with a new problem: how to get her out of the way.

“Uhh, can you move?” he asked.

Kobell growled and lunged at him. The broom clacked loudly against the doorframe. Nininger sighed.

“I’m really sorry about this…”

Juking to one side, Nininger quickly ducked to the other when Kobell bit hard on the feint. He slipped under her arm and into the dining room. Kobell grunted and tried to turn around, only to be stopped by the broom again. Setting his plate down at the table, Nininger removed the broom so as to spare his precious oil lamps.

“There, you big baby. They MUST have changed you; you were never like this before…” he said mournfully.

Kobell wrapped her arms around him. Nininger felt a twang of guilt as her chest pressed against him and his loins heated. Taking advantage of Kobell when she was like this didn’t sit right with him.

“You have to let me eat you know.” Said Nininger pushing her away. Kobell moaned in protest, but piped down when Nininger sat down to eat instead of running away. He quickly scarfed down the meal as fast as he could while trying in vain to keep Kobell confined to another chair at the table.

“Urgh… I’m going to have to figure out a better solution to this. I think I gave myself a stomach torsion by eating that fast.” Said Nininger.

Kobell cocked her head. Reaching over to him, she patted his stomach. Nininger raised his eyebrows. “Did you understand that?”

Kobell continued to poke his stomach curiously. Nininger sighed. Probably just a coincidence. Fetching the pamphlet from the kitchen, he lit an oil lamp and settled down on the couch. Kobell followed him as quickly as she could, coming to rest next to him.

“‘Hey! My undead is broken! Why doesn’t she behave like the rest of them?’ We hear this question every time we raise the dead. You may have noticed that not all undead are created equal, raised equal as it were. Some of your neighbors may have zombies that are capable of cooking dinner, washing clothes, or even speaking, while other zombies seem more like marionettes that are missing a string. Different monsters have different amounts of mana; the more mana a monster has, the higher functioning she will be. This is especially true for zombies. A zombie that is still shaking off the grave dirt will struggle with even mundane tasks. So take good care of her! She’ll need lots of love and semen during this period of development. Over time, your mana will accumulate and her faculties will return. Better than new with a little help from you!”

Fascinating! The undead may have put Nininger out of the job, but his love for the natural sciences and medicine lived on. He would have to explore the mysteries of reanimation when he got the chance. He flipped through the rest of the pamphlet to the last fold.
“Still worried about your new wife? Fear not! We are offering FREE counseling to all new couples! An specially trained undead will walk you through the first teetering steps of matrimony. Stop by at MAIN STREET AND RAVEN ROAD anytime between the hours of WHENEVER. Walk ins welcome.”

The address and time had been messily scrawled into the allotted spaces. Seems like the undead made the pamphlet en masse, and then just wrote in the details once they captured the city. Nininger folded the paper back up and looked outside. Too early to sleep, to late to go out and do anything. Not that anything needed to be done. His larder was fully stocked after he had panic bought half of the market when the undead first took over.

“I don’t suppose you have any brilliant ideas of how to spend the evening?” said Nininger.

Kobell grabbed his head and tried to pull him. Nininger yielded to her superior strength and let the corpse reposition him to her liking. Curiosity was also slowly replacing the disconcertment that had haunted him when Kobell was first “delivered” to him. She folded him over so that his head rested on her thighs. Even in death, Nininger couldn’t help but feel emasculated at the feeling of sinew rippling underneath her greyed flesh; muscular sediment acquired from years of hard farm work. Kobell cooed happily and began playing with his hair.

“You sure like hair, huh?” asked Nininger.

Kobell ignored him and continued to hum and gurgle.

“I’ll tell you what: if you behave yourself, I’ll take you out to go get a comb or something.” Said Nininger.

“Uhn.”

Nininger sighed. “Gods I hope you learn to talk before I make a habit of talking to myself.”

~~~~~

Sleep: the final frontier.

Nininger hadn’t thought about this. Was Kobell even capable of using stairs? He had once heard a group of pranksters had ushered a cow up the stairs of the church, and the animal had been too stupid to go back down. They had to use a crane to get it out.

He ascended the stairs and watched Kobell.

She looked at him, then at the railing. Slowly, she raised her foot and stepped up the first stair. Clenching the handrail, she took the stairs one at a time, pausing to get both her feet on one before moving to the next. Nininger found himself clenching his fists in anticipation and relaxed.

“Come on, almost there.” Said Nininger.

Kobell flopped onto the landing and looked up at him. Nininger felt a strange sense of pride seeing such a pitiful creature accomplish something so simple.

“Good work, Kobell.” He said helping her to her feet.

She smiled at him and wrapped him into a hug.

“Right… Well, I guess this is goodnight. You can stay in the next room.” Said Nininger.

Leading Kobell into the guest room, he peeled her off and slipped out the door before closing it behind him. Kobell shrieked and began to pound on the door.

“Hey! Calm down! Don’t yell like that!” said Nininger. Kobell stopped screeching, but Nininger could hear her panicked breaths from the other side. “Listen, you can’t sleep in my room, okay? You might not need any sleep but I do. And there’s no way that that will happen if you’re trying to grope me all night.”

Kobell wailed and began to claw at the door again.

“Kobell, no.” commanded Nininger. Wait, what the fuck was he thinking? This wasn’t a dog. “I’ll see you in the morning. Just… I don’t know, sit quietly until I wake up and I’ll make you, uhh, myself breakfast.”

Nininger slipped into his nightclothes while Kobell’s tantrum continued. Settling into bed, he waited the crying to subside.

“She’s never going to shut up, is she?” Nininger muttered.

Grumbling to himself, he got out of bed and opened the door to the guest room. Kobell fell out on top of him. She squealed with delight.

“Ow! Get off of me! You’re too big to sit on me like this!” said Nininger.

Squeezing out from underneath Kobell, he guided her into his room.

“Listen Kobell,” he said thrusting a finger in her face. “I’m going to sleep, so you need to STAY QUIET. Got it?”

Kobell grabbed his wrist and stuck his finger in her mouth. Nininger yelped and tried to pull away but Kobell held him firmly in place. He winced as her teeth gently scraped over his digit.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he hissed. He tried to free himself again, but Kobell bit down harder and growled.

Hadn’t the pamphlet said something about this? How sweat and physical contact were good ways for an undead to get mana? This must be like a deer with a saltlick…

“Fine. You can have the finger.” Huffed Nininger. “But at least let me rest in the bed.”

Dragging Kobell over to the bed, Nininger positioned himself in the sheets with his finger still stuck in Kobell’s mouth. Kobell, not content with a mere finger, flopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Hey!” protested Nininger.

Kobell quashed his defiant outburst with her breasts. Nininger was mollified by the combination of plush cleavage and cool skin. Perhaps having a corpse in bed during these hot summer nights wouldn’t be the worst thing after all…

“What am I thinking?” whispered Nininger. These undead would surely be the death of him…

~~~~~

For a few days, Nininger’s life with Kobell assumed a routine. Not normalcy, but a steady rhythm that abided Nininger’s fragile sanity. Wake up, pry Kobell off, cook breakfast, do work, snuggle and read, sleep.

Kobell was far less supportive of the new schedule. It meant that a good amount of time was spent with a broom stuffed through her skirt, keeping her beloved husband just out of reach as he toiled over roiling pots and musty tomes, looking for answers that were made moot by the magic of the undead. As time passed, she began to grow more aggressive. Nininger disregarded her frustrated hisses at first, but regretted the decision once he realized that Kobell was slowly filling in the hole in her head. She was far rougher when he finally DID permit her to touch him. When the broom came out, she actively tried to prevent him from slipping it through her dress. Tensions between the newlyweds came to a head one day after breakfast.

“Kobell! Settle down and turn around.” Said Nininger trying to stuff the broom into her dress.

Kobell growled and swatted at the broom.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard wa-“

Kobell skipped straight past hard and went straight to new game plus. Grabbing the broom, she pulled Nininger towards her and chomped Nininger’s wrist. Nininger screamed and kicked her away.

“What the FUCK?!” he cried, holding his throbbing wrist.

Kobell hissed and advanced as he cowered in a corner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Dashing out the newly replaced door, Nininger hauled ass to the undead counseling location.
A row of crude tents were set up, each bearing a sign bidding anyone who had questions about undead, monsters, or love to come in and make themselves comfortable. Nininger sprinted over to the first tent that didn’t have an occupied sign and ducked inside.

“Welcome.”

A lich sat at a glorified card table, staring back nonchalantly at her newest client.

“My undead, she-“

“Wife.”

“Huh?” panted Nininger.

“She is your wife. Thinking of her as an undead is not conducive to a happy marriage. Please recognize her as you would another human, and cherish her as such. Thank you for visiting, have a good day.” Said the lich.

“What?!”

The lich blinked. “Is there something wrong?”

“You’re damn right there’s something wrong! You can’t just tell me that we’re finished when I haven’t even told you my problem yet!” said Nininger.

The lich thought for a second. “I see your point. Very well, state your new problem.”

“New proble-? My “wife” just tried to take a BITE out of me!” said Nininger showing her his arm.

The lich looked impassively at the toothmarks. “Many ghouls express their affection through biting and extended oral contact. While their mastication may seem harsh or mildly painful, they take great care not cause permanent harm while biting you. This also applies to your genitals. Thank you for visiting, have a good day.”

Nininger slammed his hands down on the table. The lich flinched, but her expression did not change. “LISTEN YOU LITTLE LAVENDER CUNT! My wife is a ZOMBIE and she just ATTACKED me! Now are you going to help me, or am I going to have to deal with the homicidal undead that YOU raised by myself?!”

The lich sniffed. Nininger blanched as tears welled in the tiny woman’s eyes and she pulled her hood down over her face.

“I… am sorry that I have not solved your problem… Please do not yell. I am not as good at dealing with emotional matters as the other counselors…”

“Oi, is that Lussazan? It sounds like she’s crying…” said someone outside the tent.

“No! Wait! Please stop crying, I didn’t mean that. You’re doing a great job.” Said Nininger trying to calm her down.

“Really?” sniffed Lussazan.

Nininger nodded. An armor-clad figure approached the flap of the tent, clanking with every step, and stopped. A bead of sweat rolled down Nininger’s face. From beyond the fabric, there was a small “humph” and the soldier departed.

“Then I was happy to answer all your questions. Have a nice day.” Said Lussazan.

Nininger clenched his teeth. “Please. Listen to me. I NEED to know why my… ‘wife’ attacked me.” He said stuffing the mark in her face.
The lich gently rubbed her finger over the bite. “Hmm… What were you doing just prior to the incident?”

“What I always do. I was trying to broom her so that I could start working and-“

“You were trying to WHAT her?” asked Lussazan.

Nininger cracked a wavering smile. “Oh, ‘brooming’ is where I stick a broom through her dress so that she can’t get to me. It’s the only way I can do any experimentation.”

The candelabra flickered as a sinister gale blew through the tent. A chill raced down Nininger’s spine. Lussazan’s face scarcely changed, but he could now feel an aura of animosity radiating from her.

“You… used a broom to keep your wife from seeing you?” she said slowly.

The sweat on Nininger’s brow felt like it was turning into slush. It seemed like the heat within the tent was dropping with each passing second.

“Yes, but not for long!” he squeaked.

Lussazan’s mauve eyes flared. “You shouldn’t do that. EVER.”

“Yesma’amverysorrywon’thappenagain.” Chittered Nininger. His teeth began to chatter.

“Did you read the pamphlet?” asked Lussazan.

“Yes! Of course! First thing I did when she was brought to me!” said Nininger.

“And have you been FOLLOWING the instructions outlined in the pamphlet?”

Nininger cringed. “Most of them…?”

“Have you been sleeping with her?” asked Lussazan.

“Every night!”

Her eyes narrowed. The hairs on Nininger’s arms raised as energy permeated the air.

“Oh? It feels to me as if there is only a dearth of her mana present within you. You are getting intimate with her, correct?”

Nininger gulped. “We may not have taken it that far yet…” he whispered.

Lussazan floated up out of the chair. Small arcs of magic sprang across her body. “Oh? So you HAVEN’T been following the VERY SPECIFIC instructions given to you? You’ve been NEGLECTING the single most important stipulation?”

Nininger was too afraid to do anything but gawk at the lich.

“You neglect your wife, you don’t sleep with her, and you now you have the AUDACITY to wonder why she retaliates?”

“I didn’t know it was THAT important! You can’t raise the corpse of my friend THREE YEARS after she died and expect me to just fall in love with her again!” sputtered Nininger.

Lussazan floated back down into her chair. “Yes, most mortals are unfortunately slow to reacclimate to their loved ones once they are resurrected… Judging by the mana lingering on you, you must not have wholly given up on her. One of your townsfolk locked his wife in the basement for a week.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Indeed. The poor dear practically tore him to shreds during the coitus when she was finally released. Serves him right.” said Lussazan.

Nininger rubbed the disappearing grooves in his skin. “Then this…?”

“A portent of what is to come if you do not fulfil your obligation as a husband.” Said Lussazan solemnly.

“Luss!”

The sound of an armored guard approaching the tent cut the conversation short.

“I hate it when she calls me that…” muttered the lich.

A ghoul burst into the tent with Kobell in tow. “Hey boss! I found this one in the streets. Looks like she got separated from her man here.” She said giving Nininger a thump on the back.

Kobell growled and lunged at Nininger with all the grace her stiffened body afforded her. Latching onto her husband she began to grumble and gnaw at his shoulder.

“Ow! See?! How am I even supposed to have sex with her when she’s like this?!” protested Nininger.

“Use your dick.” Said the ghoul.

Lussazan looked at the table and exhaled a long, tired sigh. “Please leave.”

“Me or her?” asked Nininger.

“All of you.”

Calling forth a wave of arcane energy, Lussazan gently brushed the trio out of the tent.

“Try not to loose your better half next time, little guy. Most of us undead tend to get a little cagey when we’re separated from our food for too long?” said the ghoul.

“Food?” asked Nininger.

The ghoul smiled and licked her exaggerated canines. Wiggling her eyebrows at him, she cackled and wandered off.

“Looks like she had too much of her brain rot away before they raised her…” murmured Nininger.

Kobell grunted.

“Yeah. We’re going home.”

Taking care not to walk faster than Kobell’s maximum speed, Nininger escorted his wife back to their abode.

~~~~~~~

This is it. Do or die. Time to shine. Make it or break it.

Nininger sat on the edge of the bed. Undressing Kobell had been surprisingly easy; he should have expected the sex-fiends to make a dress that slipped off with just a tug in the proper direction.

She seemed to know what was coming. Even though she didn’t need to breathe, Kobell was practically panting in anticipation.
“I know. Give me a second…” said Nininger. Was he REALLY about to do this? It was insane! This was Kobell! His best friend! And one that had been DEAD! His stomach lurched. It all seemed like a cruel joke; an army of undead marching in and taking over just to get their twisted kicks in by making him violate the body of someone he loved.

Yes, he still loved her. There was no denying that. No matter how much he had engrossed himself in his studies to try and distract himself from the pain, life was never as cheery as it was without her. He stole a glance at her. Just as beautiful as he remembered her. His eyes meandered down her body, across her chest and down the flare of her hips. Kobell shifted her body to give him a better view.

“Damn it… I don’t know anymore.” Said Nininger burying his face in his hands.

Kobell gently reached up and pulled one of his hands away. He looked down into her shimmering cinnabar eyes. She smiled up at him.
“Are you really who I remember you to be?” he asked softly.

She reached up and gently pulled him back so that he was lying on top of her. Nininger repositioned himself on top of her to get a better view of her face. Kobell cupped his face with both her hands.

“Uv. Ningingah.” She said slowly.

This was her. Nininger acquiesced her desire for a kiss. This was the Kobell he knew.

~~~~~

What a night.

Nininger lay awake listening to the first sounds of rabble in the streets outside. He hadn’t slept a wink, yet somehow he felt more invigorated than he had in years. Kobell stirred next to him. He brushed the hair out of her face. She sighed happily.

“I’m making breakfast.” Said Nininger.

Kobell grunted.

“Yeah, I’ll make some for you too.” He said.

Donning the days clothes, he lit the stove and began to heat up some oats and bacon. Kobell stood in the doorway, as if the broom had instilled some sort of Pavlovian response to entering the kitchen. Nininger looked at her and sighed.

“If you’re smart enough to wait out there, then I suppose you can skulk around in here. Just don’t touch anything.”

Kobell stepped into the kitchen and hugged Nininger from behind. Resting her head on his shoulder, she began to watch as he prepared his food.

“Hey! I said no touching! That includes me.” He said. Kobell squeezed him tighter. “And here I thought you had finally gotten some of your brains back with that… mana…”

He had convinced himself that it was the right thing to do in the heat of the moment last night, giving Kobell some “mana,” but a wave of guilt rolled over him as he remembered he HAD technically cream pie’d a dead girl.

“Maybe I died at my alchemy table after huffing some gas and this is all some twisted death dream…” he said.

Kobell snorted and nibbled his neck. Nininger grimaced and bent his head to shield himself from her attack.

“Stop that.” He said.

Pouring the oats into a bowl, he tossed the bacon onto a side plate and extinguished the fire in the stove. Kobell was for once interested in something other than Nininger. She lingered in front of the stove, watching it as he sat down to eat.

“Don’t touch that, it’s hot.” Said Nininger.

Kobell grunted and shuffled out to sit next to him.

“OPEN UP! BY THE ORDER OF THE UNDEAD, OPEN THIS DOOR!”

Kobell instinctively clasped Nininger closer to her as someone began to pound on the door.

“Calm down! I just had that thing replaced!” shouted Nininger.

He hurried to the door with Kobell in tow. The way she was hissing and growling reminded him of a dog. And the last thing he needed was her trying to maul some police officer while ‘defending’ him. Opening the door a crack he peeked out.

“What is it?” Nininger asked flatly.

The wight who had dropped Kobell off stood with one hand on a silver baton strapped to her waist. “I received an anonymous tip that you were failing to supply your wife’s daily recommended mana intake.”

“Hmm. I wonder who THAT could have been…” said Nininger.

“Quiet, perp! Where’s your wife? Locked in a basement? Stuffed in a cage? Pawned off in some musty shop in the bad side of town?”

“Wha-? Pawn?! No! She’s right here!” said Nininger dragging Kobell’s face into the crack. “Who the hell BUYS a zombie?”

The wight glowered at him. “Open the door. I want to see the rest of her.”

Nininger sighed and acquiesced her demand.

The wight looked Kobell over and pulled out a piece of paper. “Huh. Everything seems to be in order. Looks like she’s a little behind schedule, but nothing you can’t make up if you fuck her brains out every night from now on. Not literally, mind you.”

Nininger blushed. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go back to your slop. But I’m watching you, punk. One night of “I’m too tired, maybe tomorrow,” from you and BAM!” said the wight, flashing a spectral hand in his face. “Off to the compulsory conjugal committee.”

“Compulsory?” asked Nininger softly.

The wight narrowed her eyes. “Compulsory.” She whispered.

“Pulsry” grunted Kobell pensively.

Nininger shut the door before any more undead nonsense could occur.

“This place gets stranger every day...”

~~~~~~

The months wore on and as promised, Kobell indeed became more lucid. It was subtle at first; showing interest in chores Nininger was doing and trying to mimic them. Nininger allowed her to do as she pleased out of curiosity of her limits, and because he technically couldn’t stop her if she really felt inclined to do something. Kobell wasn’t spectacular at any given task, but she had reached the point where she was capable of bathing herself and performing rudimentary tasks like sweeping the floor or helping with dinner without posing a threat to her safety or the house.

Nininger watched as she slowly cut a tomato into slices. “You’re getting pretty good at cooking, huh?”

Kobell smiled at him.

“I’ll get the water boiling.”

“No.” grunted Kobell.

Along with her dexterity returning to her limbering frame, she had also began to speak using one word at a time. Yes, no, cold, hungry, come, and hug were some of her favorites. Lately she had taken to bossing Nininger around, ordering him to snuggle with her or to perform a specific activity in bed. He didn’t mind, Kobell always treated him well and only used her strength when she was thoroughly displeased, but the idea of this airhead bossing him around did strike a nerve sometimes.

“No? What are you talking about?” asked Nininger.

“I cook.” Said Kobell.

Nininger frowned. “YOU want to cook tonight?”

Kobell nodded.

“And what, pray tell, are you going to cook?” he asked.

“Roazd.”

The roast was her favorite. She didn’t technically need to eat at all, but Nininger had eventually become tired of eating all alone while she stared at him and decided that serving her a small portion would teach her table manners and give her something to do other than stare at her. Eating was awkward when you were sitting in silence with your wife’s body staring at you. Kobell HAD learned table manners, but she always finished her portion first and insisted on feeding Nininger herself.

“Making a good roast is hard you know…”

Kobell shook her head and shooed him out of the kitchen. “Roazd!”

“Alright! I’m going. But if you light yourself on fire, you’re grounded from the kitchen for a week.”

Kobell huffed proudly and went back to cooking. Nininger watched as she shuffled back and forth between the spice rack and stove, carefully replicating his own actions when he had cooked a roast. The apron he had bought at her behest had turned out to be a great investment. A little embroidery of a delicious looking cake with the words ‘To die for’ written underneath. Kobell had insisted on wearing it every time she cooked, making him tie the strings behind her back. Nininger never thought that he would ever be so invested in women’s fashion, but Kobell always dragged him, sometimes literally, into the undead boutiques whenever she saw another woman in a dress she liked. By now she had amassed a sizeable wardrobe of clothing to wear and was capable of dressing herself in the morning. She could theoretically tie her own apron too, but she liked the feeling of Nininger cinching the strings taught behind her. Not that he would ever know that…

After more than an hour, Kobell finally presented Nininger with the fruit of her labor: the roazd. To Nininger’s surprise, it actually looked palatable. The meat wasn’t too done, and the seasonings had been applied evenly and in correct amounts.

“Wow. That looks good.” Said Nininger.

Kobell grinned at him. Who knew a corpse could look so smug? Setting the plate down on the table, she carved off a piece and hovered the fork in front of his mouth. Nininger dug in.

“Mmph. So tender! How the hell did you get better at cooking than me when you can’t even talk?” said Nininger. This must be some undead fuckery. No WAY that a zombie could out cook a man who had spent his whole life following recipes for medicines and tonics. Cooking was just another formula, right? Kobell fed him another slice. What had she done to it? The meat was so succulent! And the seasonings she had used, they were even more delectable than usual.

“Did you change the recipe?” he asked.

Kobell nodded.

“…Maybe you should help in the kitchen more often…” said Nininger.

Kobell beamed and dabbed at his face with a napkin.

~~~~~~

It had been almost a year now. At the request of the undead occupying the city, Kobell was in for a check up to evaluate her “progress.”

“How is she?” asked Nininger.

Lussazan took some notes as Kobell stood in the center of a magical circle. Arcane symbols lazily rotated around her as the magic permeated her body.

“Perfectly healthy. I am pleased to see that you were cooperative.” Said the lich.

Of course he had cooperated. Intercourse with Kobell had been an awkward and shameful thing at first, but after seeing what the undead did to men who DIDN’T give their wives ‘enough love,’ he had shed any vestige of mortification and decided that sexing a zombie was just another type of recreation in this brave new world. Nininger sat silently as the testing continued.

“Uhh, I don’t know if you can answer this question, but is it normal for an undead’s personality to change?” asked Nininger.

“In what sense has her personality changed?”

“She’s gotten more… autonomous. And I know that’s normal! She just does some things that seem a little…” he trailed off.

“Strange” was the word he wanted to use, but that seemed too harsh. As Kobell had accumulated more mana, she had become more fussy about certain things. The kitchen was almost off limits to Nininger now; she took care of all the cooking. Strangely enough, she was more permissive of his work now than she was when she was first raised. When Nininger was in his lab, Kobell was content to leave him to his devices as long as she could sit near him. Her presence in his lab was a gift from the gods, really. The lab had always been a hellscape of half-filled beakers, unfinished experiments, illegible notes and moldy food. At one point Kobell had become so revolted with the whole room she had taken a week to clean and organize it. However, work was certainly a privilege that she would revoke without hesitation if he spent too long hunched over his chemicals. At dinner time every night, no matter what he was working on, Kobell would forcefully drag him out to eat with her.

The lich glanced at Nininger. “She has merely settled in to her role as your wife. You knew this girl when you were younger, yes?”

“I did.” Said Nininger.

“If you had married her in life, how do you suspect she would be acting if she had married you?”

Exactly like this, thought Nininger. Kobell was always fussing over him when she was alive. Making sure that the log they were about to jump on wasn’t too rotten or the snake they were chasing wasn’t poisonous. No fear for her own life, just his and her siblings.
“I suppose she would be acting like this.” Said Nininger.

“I see.” Said Lussazan.

The magic circles faded and Kobell stepped out of the sigils on the ground. She stretched and walked over to give Nininger a hug.
“Is she still sexually demanding?” asked the lich.

“W-What?!” stammered Nininger.

“Her appetite for sex; is she still voracious?” repeated Lussazan.

“Yes! Well, sort of. We actually have sex less often now.” Said Nininger quickly.

Lussazan cocked her head. “Less often?”

Nininger lowered his head. Why did she always make him spell it out? “We still have sex every day, but it’s… slower. If that makes sense. And usually it’s only one round before I fall asleep. But it’s her fault!” he added pointing at Kobell.

“Oh?” said Lussazan.

“Yeah! Whenever I start thrusting too fast, she holds me in place and keeps me from moving too much until I calm down. And she’s also picked up this weird habit of forcing me to lie back on her chest while she… jerks me off…” said Nininger. These check ups never went fast enough…

The lich looked at Kobell, positioned next to Nininger. She was resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes flared a bit as they met Lussazan’s and she cracked a wry smile. Lussazan smirked.

“I don’t think that should be a problem. Don’t forget, under the treaty your town signed, all humans must obey the commands of the undead. Just keep doing what your wife says and you’ll be fine.” Said the lich.

Nininger sighed. “I figured as much…”

“Very well then, I’ll see you in a few months.” Said Lussazan.

They exited the tent and Kobell stretched.

“We’ve still got a good amount of daylight left. Do you want to go to the market and get some ingredients for dinner?” asked Nininger.
Kobell smiled at him. “Yes.”

Nininger squinted at her and hummed. Kobell leaned back, embarrassed by his sudden scrutiny.

“Hold on just a moment, there’s something I forgot to ask the lich.” Said Nininger. He ducked back into the tent. “Excuse me? There was one last thing I wanted to inquire about.”

Lussazan deposited Kobell’s file into a drawer. “Yes?”

“Is it normal for her eyes to change color?”

Lussazan kept her back to the tent flap and smiled. “It is.”

“Ah. Thank you, sorry to interrupt.”

Nininger returned to Kobell. She offered him her hand, which he habitually accepted.

“What you wan for diena?” asked Kobell.

Nininger thought for a moment. “A roast would be nice.”

Kobell squeezed his hand. “A Roast it is, then.”