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Zombie Bob and the Wicked Worm

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Zombie Bob and the Wicked Worm

Zombie Bob didn’t like the looks of the trap in front of him. It was a floor trap that would trigger spears from the wall. It was different from the trap that had originally killed him, but that wasn’t very comforting.

He worked carefully and slowly to disarm it. His fingers didn’t work quite as well as they had when he was alive, but the gloves that High Priest Veris had given him helped with that. Oddly enough, being a zombie made it easier too.

When Bob was alive he had been impatient to get things done and didn’t like moving slowly, so he would dash from one place to the next and rush things. If he had taken more time, he might not have died. Zombies moved a little more slowly. There were also less thoughts running around distracting him in his brain now that it was slightly decayed. With a click, he finished disarming the trap.

Standing up, Zombie Bob turned to the three zombies that he led. Veris had charged him with leading the pack on a mission. They were simple zombies unlike him. The high priest had given him special abilities and animated him in such a way that he kept part of his soul. He hadn’t quite figured out which part of his soul and he really missed the part that was gone sometimes, but every time he tried to think about that his attention was diverted somehow.

He motioned for the others to follow him. They moaned in acknowledgement and followed. Another reason for moving deliberately and slowly was that it made it easier to re-collect any body parts that might fall off. He glared at one who had just lost his left hand. Zombie Bob picked the hand up and put it on the zombie’s wrist. It reattached easily with the magic that zombies possessed.

This zombie was in really bad shape and Bob wondered why Veris had sent it with. Sighing deeply, Zombie Bob turned and continued on. He wondered briefly why zombies breathed. Maybe it was necessary. Thinking was too hard with a mushy brain and he didn’t feel like wasting energy to figuring it out. He was suddenly hungry at the thought of brains. One of the zombies behind him said ‘Braaaiiiinnnssshhhh’ as if it had read Bob’s thought.

The secret passage they were in ended suddenly. Zombie Bob had led his pack into the ruined tower by way of a secret tunnel that Veris had heard about from a wayward adventurer. Veris wanted a ceremonial dagger that he had read about and thought might be in this tower. The high cleric had sent Bob because he was the most capable zombie for filching things from dangerous places. The other three were there for backup in case there was trouble.

He found the mechanism to open the secret entrance easily. It made noise from centuries of disuse when it opened in the wall. The fact that it opened at all impressed him. Bob readied an arrow in his bow and moved through the entrance at a crouch.

Zombies didn’t need light to see. Eyes were one of the first things to decay when a body died. Their vision was a magical sight that made everything black, white and shades of grey. It was good enough to see the clay golem moving towards him.

Zombie Bob shot an arrow into it, causing damage but not as much as he would hope. He dropped the bow against the wall and drew his rapier which glowed with a sickly magic. The golem did not move quickly as it was somewhat rotted, much like the zombies.

The first zombie shuffled through the entrance and mindlessly attacked the golem. It was crushed into messy goo by a great double handed blow. That gave Zombie Bob an opening to begin slashing at the creature. Within moments the creature fell from the damage it took from numerous gashes. It had tried to get him, but Zombie Bob was pretty quick for a zombie and avoided damage.

He looked around the room after retrieving his bow while the remaining two zombies kicked the motionless golem. The rotting one had a leg fall off while kicking. Zombie Bob rolled his eyes. When the left one fell out, he hurriedly collected it and put it back in. He hoped the others hadn’t seen it, but they were laughing at him and pointing their zombie fingers. When the other one’s finger fell off, Bob almost rolled his eyes again but thought better of it.

The room didn’t have much left in it as the centuries had taken their toll on it. There was a stone desk against one wall and he went to that. He found the dagger in a secret compartment of one of the drawers and took it out. It was golden and had rubies set at the end of the hilt and in each of the crossbars.

Zombie Bob looked more closely. There was something wrapped around the hilt. It looked like a snake . . . or a worm even. Suddenly it began to glow. He held the dagger away from him, ready to drop it if necessary.

The worm glowed blue and jumped down onto the floor. It wasn’t more than three inches long. “Hear me, fool who would dare to steal from my master!” it said in a surprisingly deep and majestic voice. “I am the Wicked Worm, guardian of the Dagger of Gik!”

Zombie Bob wouldn’t have been able to respond to that even if his brain wasn’t a bit mushy. The rotted zombie had gotten its leg back on and charged at the worm. It attempted to step on the tiny creature. Regrettably, the leg fell off again before stomping. The rotted zombie fell forward and desperately began hopping in an attempt to keep its balance. Then it fell down the stairs on the other side of the room. They all listened to it crash down the stairs then fall silent.

The worm turned back to face Zombie Bob. It didn’t actually have a face and Bob wondered absently how it could face him without one. “You shall perish for your theft. My wrath is great, foolish zombie!” it said. It really was a very impressive voice for such a tiny worm.

The remaining zombie had moved forward. It bent over the worm and brought down a fist to smush it. Somehow the worm caught the zombie’s fist. Bob watched the zombie lifted into the air and brought back down with a mushy thud. The worm lifted it back in the air and down again on the other side. Back and forth the Wicked Worm alternately lifted and slammed the zombie back down to the ground. Before long, the thuds turned to squishes and the last zombie became de-animated.

“Now, zombie; Give me the dagger and I shall let you live . . . or . . . or . . . undead! . . . Is that right? Do zombies live or undead?” it asked in puzzlement. Zombie Bob had never seen a puzzled worm before. “. . . Just give me the Dagger of Gik!” it finally finished in a frustrated tone.

Zombie bob had an idea. It was a mushy idea as most of them were now that he was a zombie, but it was an idea nonetheless. “Okay. Here it ishh,” he said leaning forward toward the worm.

The point of the dagger was aimed at the worm. Zombie Bob pushed it into the worm’s body in the hopes that it would kill the enchanted creature. With a sudden flash of light the dagger glowed. Then it cut into the worm, slicing it mortally.

“Aaaaggghhhhh!” exclaimed the worm in agony. “You fiend! I . . . I . . . *gurgle*,” it finished as it died with a twitch.

Zombie Bob stood there and stared at it for quite a while. It had been the most unusual thing he had ever seen in a life of unusual things. Eventually, he headed back through the entrance to the secret passage with the Dagger of Gik tucked away in a small box he had brought.

He had no idea how he would tell Veris that the other zombies had been killed by a Wicked Worm.

Zombie Bob and the Wicked Worm © kookoo

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Niceee :)

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