After Dinner Zombie Meet Up (Short Story) | LMAC Collage FreeStyle No. 73

Beezor stirs. A sound foreign to his ears waffles through hollow drums. His dull, empty eyes stares mindlessly to the west out over the murky, clay water. Unable to focus, he shakes his head violently, then attempts to snort out the cobwebs from his memory. Nearby, weeping willows cease their drips. The hollow place where his heart once pounded pumps a long-forgotten feeling of hope; empty hurt.

Behind Beezor situates the city, once a state-of-the-art metropolis. A flamboyant mix of modern architectural designs that accommodated millions, including his family and friends, in a bustling hub of work and play he helped build. Despite its riches and advanced technologies, citizens ignored warnings. They took risks. They went too far in their quest for utopia.

Now, the landscape is barren. And it spread throughout. Those famous towering skyscrapers still stand, but vacant under the sweltering heat. The land looks desolated and abandoned. The morning breeze feels like one crying in the wilderness. The gray, mendacious sky hovers above. The stench of death long decayed from war lingers in the crackling air throughout the city streets and surrounding areas as each viciously turned on each other in their fight for survival.

Only visible by the fading light of the setting sun is the once great statute of prosperity, now turned to despair. It faithfully guards the path carved out by gravediggers that lead to the waterway known as the "Forbidden Zone".

This is Beezor's apocalypse.

Ages have passed. But somehow he still senses the living and longs for what was. An unappreciated and misused bygone era. He quickly jerks his head sideways and notices his friends slumber still in half death.

His head jerks back, rotating, absorbing the new sensations. His nostrils flare.

Suddenly, the aroma of fried chicken, freshly-baked buttermilk biscuits, white wine, aged blue cheese, and recently harvested plump, sweet grapes assault is senses and knock him backward. His knees buckle. His chest cavity swells.

"Surely this cannot be," Beezor moans bewildered, but dizzy in anticipated ecstasy. But his longing was about to be assuaged. For the scent of another delicacy, that of beautiful Loloyia drenched in lilac beckoned to him, eager for a warm embrace.

He bolts from behind the statute.

His comrades instantly wake. But his desire is not for an entourage. He wants his Loloyia to himself; not to devour, only to feast from her hands, inhale her living flesh, and sense her warm blood coursing through her bosom.

Entering the path of destruction, the soiled, murky water he'd have to cross that held rotting corpses lie ahead. His thirst deepens and propels him forward.

Reaching the river, midstream, he bends and extracts a drenched weapon of war. Firing, his comrades fall.

Unrestrained, Beezor turns and stares ahead across the shoreline into the expanse of the luscious red field of life. He's free to pursue his love. Clear, fresh air swirls across the soil as spots of purple, green, read, and milky form in the immaculate surroundings. The taste of Loloyia is his to savor. The memory of her lush, youthful body pressed against his in utter delight, throbbing in a timeless embrace.

As he reached the shore, a gush of wind pauses his progress. The feelings and aromas dissipate.

Was it real? or just a lifetime of memories releasing themselves into the stale mucus embedded in his shell before the land lay wasted from disease and destruction?

Beezor would have braved the land beyond the "Forbidden Zone" for his answer. He scours the field noting the black stakes representing family, friends, and a society he once knew.

Behind him was the familiar. Ahead was a dream he thought long diminished as he fingers the ring.

For my Freestyle Collage No. 73, my theme is zombies and regret. In preparing my theme, I envisioned the top half of my scene to be dark and dreary, a sort of dystopian look and feel. For the bottom half where the party was to take place, I wanted the opposite view. It didn't have to be airy and fun, but distinct so that you knew the zombie was stepping into a different environment.

I located a dystopian city that fit perfectly with the zombie theme of desolation and decay. This image formed the exact background I required. With the LMAC vine stakes, I found the right balance with a bit of colorizing.

Now, I needed a suitable image to represent the undead and a beautiful female to represent the lost love and regret. To set the stage for the party, I located several images for the food. Next, graveyard images were easy to find. Below are the additional images I included to complete my theme:

• Walking dead in destroyed city at PxFuel

• Graveyard statute by InspiredImages at Pixabay

• Woman in red dress ZigmarsBerzins at Pixabay

• Colorful fractal facial image by susann? at Pixabay

• Green grapes by PNGStock at PurePNG

• Red grapes by Kumaran at PurePNG

• Wine and grapes by PNGStock at PurePNG

• Black birds Contributed to the #LIL by @onyechi

• Gargoyle statute Contributed to the #LIL by @seckorama

After compiling the images, I uploaded all into Canva, my design program. Below are my procedures that show the numerous features and tools available in my upgraded Annual Pro Membership Subscription.