Jeff Strand - The Sinister Mr. Corpse

Actually, he hadn't quite decided if he was going to tell or not. He couldn't very well let Brant go on having people killed, but the idea of melting away into nothingness was somewhat less than appealing.

"Listen, Brant, I'm not going to tell anybody!" Stanley shouted. "There has to be an alternative!"

He stopped and listened for Brant's reaction. He assumed that it wouldn't be "Goodness! Now that you mention it, I can keep you alive simply by spraying Windex on you every couple of days!" but there had to be some other way, right?

Brant was silent.

"Yo! Brant! We need to talk this out!"

Nothing.

Martin stepped into the hallway, still rubbing his jaw. "Did you catch him?"

"Does it look like I caught him?"

"See, you wonder why I said all those things and yet you-"

"Not the best time, Martin. I'm gonna try the main exit, you start checking rooms."

"Gotcha."

Stanley ran down the hallway. In theory, Brant couldn't have gotten out without his badge, so hopefully he'd realize that they all needed to have a nice long chat about the current situation. Stanley really hoped that he didn't have another melt-dart stashed away somewhere.

He reached the exit door. Still locked, and no sign of Brant.

It only took about five minutes to do a quick search of the bunker. Brant was nowhere to be found. Stanley and Martin returned to the lab (which, admittedly, didn't quite fit the dictionary definition of "lab," but he wasn't quite up to calling it the "slaughterhouse" yet) where Veronica stood next to the girl.

"There's no key to the chains," Veronica explained. "She doesn't seem to understand anything I'm saying. I pulled out the tubes but I'm not sure what else to do."

"There may not be anything else to do," said Stanley, sadly. "Brant's gone. We need to get a doctor in here to take care of her, as soon as possible."

"Dr. Arnzin?"

"No. He's not a real doctor. I mean, he yanked those bullets out of me, but he's not a real doctor. Call 911."

Veronica nodded and turned to leave, then hesitated. "You're sure? I mean, of course we need to do something about this, but you're sure, right?"

"I'm sure. Pretty sure. It would be wrong and evil not to be sure, right?"

"I don't know. To be honest, right now I'm very confused."

"I think we're all a little confused."

"I'm the most confused," said Martin.

"All right, here's what we'll do. Veronica, you stay here and watch over the girl. Martin, you call an ambulance. I'm going outside to see if I can catch up to Brant."

"You have a mob waiting for you," said Veronica. "I'll go after him."

"No, he could be dangerous. I'm not putting anybody else at risk. I'll be fine."

Veronica nodded and tossed him her badge.

"Not your best picture, is it?" asked Stanley.

"Go!"

Stanley hurried out of the lab and to the exit. He swiped Veronica's badge, opened the door, and climbed the ladder that led to the surface. He threw open the trapdoor and then very hesitantly peeked his head out, expecting Brant to perhaps try to run him over with a lawnmower or something.

Brant's car and Veronica's car were parked in the warehouse. Aside from that, it was empty.

Stanley climbed out all the way and did a quick peek in each vehicle to make sure Brant wasn't hiding there. Then he ran to the exit, swiped Veronica's badge, threw open the door and gasped.

The area around the warehouse was cordoned off with orange-and-white barriers, but there was a huge crowd right outside of them. A few of them pointed excitedly at Stanley. Those who were seated quickly got to their feet as the crowd as a whole roared to life.

There had to be at least two hundred people. None of them seemed to be carrying torches, pitchforks, or tar-and-feathering supplies, but Stanley still didn't feel that his personal safety was particularly secure.

"He is here!" somebody in the front shouted into a megaphone. "Everybody, remain calm! Do not let the sounds of our excitement drown out His words!"

Stanley couldn't believe it. It was that whacko who'd shot him! "Charlie…?"

"He remembers me! Our Savior recalls my name! Oh, I am truly blessed this day!"

"What's up with your speech patterns?"

"New speech for a new life! We await your words, Savior!"

Stanley cleared his throat. "Has anybody-?"

"We can't hear you!" shouted somebody near the back.

"Please, Savior, take my megaphone, so that it might amplify your words!" Charlie stepped past the barrier and handed the megaphone to Stanley.

"Is this better?" Stanley asked, his voice booming.

There was general murmur of assent from the crowd.

"Did anybody see a man come out of here? Older guy, gray hair, goatee? Walks like he has a rod up his butt?"

The crowd collectively shook its head.

"Okay, thanks." Stanley lowered the megaphone.

"Speak to us!" shouted Charlie.

"Don't shout. You're right next to me."

"I apologize, Savior! My enthusiasm for your return is-"

"Charlie, get the fuck back on the other side of the line."

"I will immediately, Savior!" Charlie hurried past the barrier.

"Listen, all of you, I really appreciate your support. Without my fans, I'm nothing. But things in my life are a little screwy these days, and I'm not completely sure what's going to happen to me, so I need to share some stuff with you."

"Yes! Share your wisdom!" Charlie shouted.

"Charlie? This is your last warning. I'll send your ass to the back. Anyway, the first thing I want to say is, don't use me as a role model. I suck. All of us celebrities suck. And try not to…" Stanley trailed off. "Have you been calling me Savior?"

"Yes, Savior!"

Stanley took a couple of moments to fully process that piece of information. "Okay, now that is creepy and messed up!"

"You are our only hope!"

"If you say I'm part of any ancient prophecies, I'm going to knock you out with this megaphone. Look, I encourage all of you to be religious, but don't be a whack-job about it. Don't worship defective glass or stains on building, don't say dumb shit about God creating hurricanes to wipe out homosexuals, and don't worship zombies. At least not this zombie. I'm not the scientific miracle you all believe I am."

"I knew it!" shouted a woman in the front row. "It's goddamn makeup!"

"No, no, I'm a zombie!" Stanley insisted. "But Project Second Chance is doing some horrible things. They're killing people. And now that I know about it, I can't let it keep happening."

"Project Second Chance is giving the greatest gift in the history of mankind," shouted Brant, emerging from around the corner of the warehouse. "All of you here today, you're the strongest supporters of Mr. Corpse, are you not?"

The crowd cheered.

"And you're the ones most worthy of our gift, right?"

The crowd cheered again.

"Don't listen to him!" Stanley said into the megaphone. "Project Second Chance is bad! All bad!"

"Stanley Dabernath was given the gift of eternal life," said Brant. "The chemicals that we synthesized will keep his flesh alive forever. But you, the truly loyal fans, should know this: what gives him eternal life can also give you eternal life. The formula in his veins will sustain you just as it sustains him."

"What exactly are you getting at?" asked Charlie.

"Do you want eternal life? All of you?"

The crowd shouted its approval of the idea of receiving eternal life.

"Then eat Mr. Corpse!"

Stanley dropped the megaphone. This had soooooooo much potential to be unpleasant.

The crowd stared at him.

"He's lying!" Stanley shouted. "That's not the truth at all! I was brought back by witchcraft!"

There was not a lot of time available for solemn reflection, but Stanley did take a split second to consider that perhaps the whole supernatural element was something that the crowd needed to be eased into.