It’s a cool day and the sun is shining mildly over city streets. Below, a cleaner is sweeping away rubbish. Through the window, the hum and hubbub of Saturday chimes with the distant calls of seagulls that circle the nearby seacoast. In the therapist’s room, the sofa sits barren and empty and a hot cup of coffee sits on the table. A crisp breeze blows through the open window and ruffles a few papers and Dr Mackerel sits patiently, tapping her paper with an inky pen and waiting expectantly for her patient.
A figure moves into the room and places himself on the sofa, his hands gripping his knees nervously and his expression tight.
“Hello, Langsley Mower,” the therapist smiled.
“How are you feeling today?”
Langsley looked about the room and quivered ever so slightly. Suddenly, he got up from his seat and scrubbed the sofa with some surface wipes. Sitting back down, he pushed his hanging intestines back into his stomach and fixed his jaw that had just begun slipping from his face. After this, he wiped his hands with some hand sanitiser.
Dr Mackerel observes this cunningly and scribbles a few notes in her book.
“Well,” the patient’s voice is weak and his tongue slid about his mouth over his rotting teeth. He breathed deeply and started a light sob “it has been really hard today. I woke up and my..my.” he started to cry and shook his head in his hands.
“Yes?” the therapist inquired.
“I had eaten my dog!” Tears streamed from the veins in his face and created large damp circles on the grey carpet.
“Ah. I see you suffer from compulsive eating?” Said Dr Mackerel, looking down at her clipboard.
Langsley looked up and wiped away a tear. “And OCD.”
As if to show this, he then wiped his hands and started to floss his teeth embedded with bits of broccoli. When she looked at him uncertainly, he stated “I have started on this diet you see. Too much meat is bad for your cholesterol. Don’t want to die for a second time, do we now?” Managing a weak smile, he then was once again swept into tears. “You don’t know what it was like, down there in the grave. I remember it all, I remember eating ravenously. So, so ravenously! I was a savage! I was disgraceful, such an embarrassment! And to think I didn’t wash my hands after I ate…” He shivered in disgust, “I had to turn it around.”
“I see.” Dr Mackerel scribbled down a few important points on her report. “And do you still feel these urges?”
“Urges, no. But sometimes I just can’t help myself.” He looked at the therapist, analysing her within the corner of his eye. “I haven’t tasted a human, in so so long…” his voice died down and Dr Mackerel could only pick up a couple of words. She coughed and he sat up sharply and regained his neat posture. Gripping the alarm in her hand, she was tempted to press the button. The collar wrapped around Langsley was modified to send him into a shock if he tried anything funny, but still, she didn’t feel as secure as she would have liked. You will get a whole lot of money for this. Besides, they’re harmless. The cure was found six years ago now and nothing has happened. Don’t worry. Yeah, right.
“So umm… is there any medication that you are taking?”
“Well, I am trying this hormonal balance thing that eases my depression and OCD which is really helpful. Also, I am due to take surgery to take away these things.” He picked up the flab of his liver that was sticking out of his ribcage and pushed it back up. “I mean, they really are a nuisance.” He said, wiping his hand with some hand sanitiser.
Reaching out for the bowl of snacks that was placed on the centre table, he pulled some crisps from a bowl and munched on them, his teeth unaligned and making a great clanking noise each time they struck together sending flint-like sparks onto the furniture.
“Yes, I see.” Dr Mackerel wrote down some notes. Looking at her watch, she jumped in surprise and chuckled to herself. “Oh my goodness, won’t you look at the time? Unfortunately, our hour is up but it has been very nice talking with you Langsley. See you next session,” God forbid that.
Langsley sighed and relaxed against the sofa. “For so long. So, so long. It’s hard being a zombie y’know.” His arms flailed by his sides and he let his body drop and fall limp like an unused puppet.
“Yes, I am so sorry. But I’ll see you when I will, yeah?”
“So, so long”
Dr Mackerel grimaced and stood up, walked over to the door and opened it for his exit. However, he stayed in his position and refrained from moving his heavy body. Turning back and edging closer towards him, she moved to see if he was still unalive. Her ear to his slanted mouth, she could feel his hot breath on her skin and a slight chuckle escaped his mouth.
Therapist Eaten by Zombie Patient
Earlier this week, a therapist by the name of Dr Mackerel was attacked by a zombie in her office. The zombie, Langsley Mower, had been a patient of hers who had suffered from a Compulsive Eating disorder and a severe form of OCD. Dr Mackerel had been assigned as a ‘zombie therapist’ for the new colony devoted to the cured victims of the undead disease that had plagued the world until a vaccine was found six years ago. The remains of Dr Mackerel are unknown, and all that has been left in her place was hand sanitiser and some surface wipes. This has seemingly eroded all fingerprints and Langley has not yet been taken into police custody. He was sighted through the building’s window by a street cleaner said to have seen him gnawing at her bones and then using bleach to wipe down the furniture and walls. The police are still unsure of the reason for this, but investigators are trying to find the cause of the murder. We talk to some locals about the incident-
She sat on the therapist's sofa and sighed despondantly. Wiping her hands with hand sanitiser, she shook her head, catching a tooth that had fallen from her mouth. Popping it back in a random place and wedging it into her gums, she then sat still and silently.
"Hi Emilia Mackerel" the therapist smiled and looked at her with a patronising expression.
Emilia looked down. "Hi."