Zombies + Beauty & the Beast = There’s no Cure for Dead
There’s No Cure for Dead
by Dorlana Vann
She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, loosening her jaw, before she spoke. “You can’t be serious. Marriage is no longer something we can consider.”
He stood far away, at the other end of the long, formal dining room table. He was handsome now: tall and regal. He used to look so hideous he’d hid from the world. But his compassion and heart were so big that she had fallen madly in love. So she wasn’t surprised by his proposal even if it was a bit insane.
“I love you,” he said. “I want you to be my wife.”
“I know you love me. I love you, too. But we have to face facts. You must accept this. You shouldn’t even be feeding me. Look at me. What kind of bride would I be?”
“A beautiful one. When I was beastly, you saw something inside me and loved me for me.
I love you for you. I know who you are on the inside.”
The rancid taste in her mouth distracted her for a second. Was it from the meal she’d just devoured or her own tongue? What had he said? Was he actually trying to compare her current situation to his past? “But I’m not like you. You were cursed by a witch. I’m–”
“Doesn’t matter!” He slammed his fist down on the table, making the china and silver jolt. “I’ll use every last cent I have to find a cure.”
“You’re not listening to me.” She tried to stand, but the chains around her waist stopped her. It took a second to remember why she was confined to a chair. Oh yeah, that’s right; dinner had taken a little too long last night. When hunger hit, nothing else fit in her head. If it hadn’t been for the butler with the Taser, they wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. “Sweetheart,” she said sweetly, trying to calm him, “There’s no cure for dead.”
“Maybe one of my tears, or a potion of some sort … or maybe a kiss.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. They stuck like that for a second until she shook her head to get them straight again. “You’re going to kiss me? Do I even have lips, anymore?” Just as she pushed out her tongue to feel for lips, a twinge in her head stopped her. What was she doing?
“There’s got to be something. But first, we will get married.” He walked beside the table toward her, stopping halfway, a hint of fear in his eyes.
The sudden spasm in her head caused her to let out a moan. The hunger didn’t feel the way it had when she’d been alive. This appetite was in her brain. It rumbled, it stirred, it wanted, it hurt. But she’d just eaten an entire plate of … Who? Where was the butler?
He was saying, “I mean, we can’t really have a honeymoon right now. We’ll postpone it until later. When you’re better. But please let me prove my love and devotion to you.”
She tried to remember her meal tonight, but then a series of intense, sharp pains ricocheted inside her head. With both hands, she pulled at what was left of her hair.
When she brought her hands down to look at them, brown hair clung to her fingers. Wait? Whose hair was this? She glanced around the room: extravagant, expensive, a stone fireplace, a cathedral ceiling. What was this house? Who lived here anyway? Who was this walking closer to her? Her brain pulsed and rumbled. He was so close – she sniffed the air – and luscious. Her mouth watered, and all she wanted was one little taste, one little nibble.
“Right after the ceremony, I will hire the best researchers on the planet …”
She tried to get up, but for some reason she couldn’t move. She tried again, and again, and again. The hunger pains moved down to behind her eyes, causing her to squint to see the delicious meal that was igniting her senses.
“So? What do you say? Will you marry me?”
The food was right there in front of her now. Maybe if she stretched out her arms as far as she could, she’d be able to reach it. All she needed was a one bite to make this unbearable torture end.
“Oh Belle, I don’t know. But you did just eat, so I guess one hug, to seal the deal with my fiancée would be okay.”
There’s no Cure for Dead was inspired by Beauty and the Beast (French: La Belle et la Bete) by Jeanne Marie Le Prince de Beaumont. France: 1756. It is one of the short stories from my collection, Supernatural Fairy Tales: paranormal short stories inspired by fairy tales