The Horror Library - The Best in Horror Fiction

The Corpse Killers
By Jason R. Beirens

The horizon was painted orange and yellow as the sun slid behind the mountains far to the west. The first stars began to appear and the day creepers gave way to the nightwalkers.

Deep under a sub basement floor was the ancient lair of Teran Boum, who was half man, half vampire. His human skin worn tight against his real self, a mass of gray tentacles, muscle mass, and three rows of razor teeth. He was near on seven feet high and three feet wide, a commanding presence, even with others of his kind.

He sat up in his bed, which was quite ornate, and comfortable despite the other surroundings. Damp pipes dripping, plaster peeling back to reveal decaying brick. He felt the night coming on, the hunger growing in him. He pulled his long white hair into a ponytail, and got out of the bed. A small bat flew from behind a jumble of pipes and made its way up the stair case into the night, its cries echoing as it made its asscenion.

When Teran walked out into the still night air, a bit of color grew in his face, the egg shell white became a soft crimson. He adjudsted the armor he wore. It was decorated with a mass of low relief skulls and demon faces. Spikes jutted out at odd intervals, no rhyme or reason. He put his hand on his sword hilt and let his sharp finger tips dance against the steel.

~

This was a world ruled by the dead. Living things were becoming increasingly difficult to find. Teran was an officer of the living. He had taken an oath to protect the few creatures left with a pulse. It was not an easy task, many of the dead did not have minds, did not think of the diminishing food supply. They thought only of the hunger, only of the present. The Council of Monster Kin laid out the law, and funded the program for the group that would become known as the Corpse Killers.

Teran was a decorated member of the Corpse Killers, or as they were known on the streets, the Death. He took his job seriously. He had a sense of pride in his work. In knowing he was part of the elite, the ones that had brains, style, reason. He was in love with the idea of life, something he had not known for countless years.

His senses acute to the surroundings, he kept his sword at the ready, and his mind alert.

He stood still as a statue guarding the sector he was assigned to. At one time it had been a skyscraper, ninety stories high. It was now known as Corpus Necrom. A large collection of living creatures were allowed to live inside under the protection of the Death. Different floors were assigned for different creatures. On the first few floors was livestock, chickens, cows, goats, and other things of the sort. The rooms were turned from sterile, to organic, grass, wheat, soil was spread to give it life for the blood creatures to survive in. A few stories up were large cats and other jungle creatures. A heating system was installed to give them the climate they needed. Palm and other trees grew, and gave life to all sorts of living creatures. A forest was next, with deer, and bear, and rabbits. Then there were humans, live humans were at the very top. They had moved into a myth, most of the dead had no idea they were real anymore, they had become a fairy tale. They lived off of the livestock, and dead that were brought to them by the few monster scientists that had breed the hunger out of themselves, they lived off the grain and wheat that grew on the different floors. Carnivores turned into herbivores. The idea of humans was something, for those that could dream, to dream about. Not even Teran was allowed to see the humans.

The only living creatures that were left on their own were vermin. Warm blooded, rats, bats, pigeons, seagulls, and that sort of thing. An abundance of those creatures were never questioned.

~

Teran Bourn was one of near a hundred guards assigned to the Corpus Necrum. He stood alone by the basement entrance. Other guards stood in small groups. Teran requested the solitary position. He was not found of others, living or dead.

~

Nothing much ever happened. Even the mindless dead had developed an idea that the Death were nothing to go after. The idea had taken a long while to become instinct, but after enough of the small stumbling groups of zombies had been destroyed they understood.

The basement entrance was never disturbed, but it was an important entrance for the herbivore scientists. It was where the supplies were brought in, and other recruits for the transformations were taken into the living world.

~

Other buildings around other cities were near to the same as Corpus Necrom, where living creatures were protected.

~

Something stirred in the night. It moved amongst the dead as one of them, but blood flowed, and its heart beat, slowly though, ever so slowly.

His name was John Doe. He had wandered among the dead for a long while. He wore the uniform of the Death. The armor, along with the slow heart and white skin, helped him to move amongst the dead.

He was heading toward Corpus Necrom, he had purpose, he had a plan.

~

Teran stood still as a statue. His eyes unblinking, looking toward the dilapidated horizon. Buildings burned, smoked, collapsed in the distance.

He sensed trouble in the air. It would not come tonight though. Not tonight.

~

When Teran awoke the next night he smelled rain, a small storm was coming.

He attached the armor to himself and took up his sword and reported to his watch. He knew tonight that he would have no time for boredom.

The rain came down hard, soaking the dirt to mud. Tanning Terans impeccable armor from black to brown, his eyes fixed onto the darkening horizon. In the distance he could hear the cries of the imbecile dead. Something out there was destroying them, something that was getting closer to him.

~

John wielded the sword of the Death as a master. Using the least movement possible, expending the least energy. He could smell life in the distance and he was getting closer to his goal.

Soon the zombies moved aside, shuffling from the path that the Death was following. John kept his breathing soft, not allowing his chest to rise and fall enough to show through the armor. His heart beat slower and slower. He moved with purpose, following the smell of life. The rain made it a tough scent to follow, but it was so rare that it was unmistakable.

His stolen armor stained from the red to mud brown and dirty green.

For the armor, he fought and defeated a Corpse Killer in the province to the north. The uniforms color were the only things keeping a separation between local governments. The Death was young and inexperienced. When he did strike John, blood trickled down from the wound, driving the creature to a blood rage. John took him down with no problem after that. A few strikes to the proper parts of the armor with a jagged edge of steel pipe, and it fell away. John made his heart beat faster, causing more blood to fall from the wound. He was taking a chance of calling more dead to him, but he took it. His gamble worked, the creature jumped at him. In a quick motion, John threw the pipe aside and took up the wooden steak from his leather belt and struck the creature in the heart.

As it lay dying John took up the dropped sword and proceeded to cut off the creatures head. He quickly built a fire with kindling, including the soiled wooden stake, he took out some thick liquid and covered the body with it, and let it blaze. Large plumes of smoke filled the night air. When the sun rose that morning, John was gone, and the dying head of the creature looked at the rays and attempted to shriek but could not.

~

The rain was still coming down, but both Teran and John could tell it was moving on soon.

Just as the clouds began to break apart John reached his destination. Teran stood stiff still looking directly at John as he came clearly into view. John stopped and looked at the still figure of the Death, the Corpse Killer.

"Ho! Corpse Killer." John whispered to himself.

Teran moved quickly and took out his sword, and held it at the ready.

"Someone dares."

He put his nose into the air,

"I smell life in you." Teran sneered

John didn't answer, he only drew his sword and jumped at Teran. He slashed and missed completely. Teran had moved quicker than sound to the left, out of the way of the blade. He returned the attack with his own, the butt of the sword hit John in the stomach, knocking the wind from him. He held his chest, kept his sword at the ready.

"I knew you lived." was all Teran said.

John stood up right, and pointed his sword towards Terans pale face. His off hand took a small wooden stake from his belt. It danced in his fingers and then bolted from them with a subtle flick of the knuckles. Teran saw it at the last second and moved out of the way.

"No dead has ever moved as quick as you Corpse Killer."

"No dead are me. I have a mind."

"A decaying mind, filled with worms and cobwebs." A smile appeared on his face.

"What are you doing here Blood man?"

"I have come to bring death to the dead, and free the living into the world again."

"Oh, how noble, how...cliché. I thought maybe one such as you sought a cause that was reachable."

"I can do it."

"Can you? How many dead have you killed?"

"In the thousands, more."

"There are billions of us boy. Billions."

John struck at Teran again. His sword hit flesh, his own.

The blade struck his leg. It went in deep and the blood gushed from the wound. Teran stood behind him listening to the river of crimson.

"Why don't you attack? Why not finish me?"

"I have fed already."

"So, you are not all mindless creatures, you dead." John slowed his heart, and the blood flow lessened. Teran stood still, only watching the blood pool on the ground. John kept an eye on Teran as he bound his leg with some cloth he kept on his belt.

"Why don't you kill me?"

"Living things are sacred," he waited a moment, "and rare."

John struggled with his wound, the bleeding was still strong. He wrapped the cloth tighter. Teran reached down to his leg and squeezed tightly. The blood slowed to a near stop. John nervously finished bandaging the wound.

"I assume you have a plan." Teran said very calmly.

"To destroy you and then the rest of the dead."

"Come now. You seem a smart boy. A more clear plan. Something a bit more plausible."

"You talk well for a dead man."

Teran laughed at this.

"Boy I was never a man. I am an almost man. I wear the skin so the other dead don't run from me." He pulled back on his cheek, the three rows of razor teeth were visible and gray tendrils slithered out from under the skin.

John fell to the ground, his face turned whiter than before.

"Now be a good lad and tell me your ingenious plan."

"Why?"

"The night is young yet, and I have nothing more to do." Teran put the skin back to its place so he looked like himself again.

"I am to be captured and taken into the Corpus Necrom. Taken to the living, to the humans. There I pick a few, and in secret, away from the eyes of the plant eating dead, train an army. A few weeks later I am to escape and move on."

A moment passed and Teran cocked his head to the side.

"Well that was easier than in a Bond movie."

"What?" he sneered venomusly.

"Nothing. Now how's that again? Train an army...for what?"

"To destroy the dead. To destroy you lot. I was trained for this by my father. Corpus Necrom is to be my first."

"That just won't do."

With that, Teran kicked Johns sword away, and took him up. He held him aloft. Teran didn't struggle in the lifting or the holding. He held him close, so their faces touched, nose to nose.

"I can't kill you. I can do worse though."

With his one hand Teran covered Johns mouth.

"I notice you favor your right when you fight."

A sharp finger ran over Johns upper arm, blood trickled from it. The finger ran deeper and deeper. Then John passed out.

~

When he awoke he tried to scream. He couldn't, his tongue had been removed. He felt a pain in his right arm, it felt almost numb. He reached for it with his left. It found nothing.

John looked around. He was in a strange place. The walls were a dull blue with patterns of clouds. A window looked out into a blue wall, painted to look like a sky. A blue bird landed on the window sill and began to sing. It sang to its reflection in a near mirror. John looked around further, he was in a bed, a small bed. A sheet was draped over his legs, it had four wheeled colorful carriages on it. A shelving system sat across from him. It had books and colorful plastic things on it. An open door was at the side of the shelves.

His senses were overwhelmed. So much color, so vibrant, so alive. He had only ever known a bleak washed out, dead, and near colorless world. He felt more alive then he ever had before. He then heard a voice of a female. He had not heard one in a long time.

She poked her head around the corner of the door. She was middle aged, short dark hair and large blue eyes.

"Sleepy head awake?"

John began to weep, silently, tears flowing down his face, failure the only thing in his mind. She brought in a tray filled with sandwiches and two bowls of soup.

The scientists watched this from behind the one way mirror, fascinated.

~

Night approached again and Teran Bourn got ready for another night alone.