Barb lurches up to me and my uncle, a strange moaning sound coming from her chest. This is not unusual; it’s how she normally walks. What’s unusual is that her neck has nothing atop it.
“Lost your head again?” Uncle Joe asks.
She moans in a way that could be interpreted to be affirmative. Then she waves her arms about and makes some signals with her hands.
“Well, let’s go!” says Uncle Joe.
“Go where?” I ask, perhaps dimly.
I squint, but turn to follow the pair as they creep to the door. I’m not alone; nearly everyone in the comes with me.
As we make our way through the living room, Spot barks at us from inside his crate. Even though I know he can’t get to me, I still shiver at the sound. Fighting the urge to run, I make myself walk slowly across the carpet until we get to the sliding door.
With practiced orchestration, we unlock and open the door to spill out onto the back deck. We fan out into the yard. The air smells as though it has rained recently, but the ground is dry enough that I’m not worried about mud as I trudge through the grass.
Barb’s body walks erratically past the swing set to a place behind the sandbox. Uncle Joe and I follow, although most of the others hang back closer to the house.
We find Barb’s head on a pile of leaves beneath the hedge, and Uncle Joe picks it up to place it on her neck for her.
She grins. It’s a little creepy, what with her being a zombie doll and all, but we’re used to it.
Today's prompt is from Jessica Amanda Salmonson on FaceBook
and was provided to me by Bliss Morgan as part of her Nightmare Fuel Project.