Cannibal Corpse, M/C

In a surprising show of stealth, he stumbled about blindly and then lashed out peripherally to where he thought the food might be. But that damn food just would not cooperate. It drilled him with several wild roundhouse punches but it didn’t get away fast enough. Maggot took hold of it and it was wild and squirming in his grip. He lashed out with a meaty black fist and caught the food in the face and just as he was about to reap the rewards with his teeth, the food got one of its legs behind him and brought it back into the undersides of Maggot’s knees, pushing at the same time and Maggot flipped into the dirt.

The crowd hissed and threw more bottles, stones, anything that wasn’t tied down.

As Maggot rolled in the dirt, trying to right himself, Slaughter kicked him in the head with his motorcycle boot and a great chunk of meat and skull dislodged from the impact.

Maggot shrieked.

The crowd screamed.

Slaughter grabbed up a handful of rocks that made it over the top of the fence and threw them back at the crowd. A couple of them hit and people swore. A few bottles came now. Not just at the fence but over the top of it. One of them glanced off the giant’s head as he stood up uneasily, but he never even noticed.

Maggot charged and Slaughter ducked away from him.

When Maggot came around again, Slaughter jumped up and gave him a drop kick that put the zombie back on his ass. As he clawed around, trying to stand, Slaughter kicked him in the face two and then three times. By then, Maggot’s soft and puffy face was a drooping, liquid mass of excrescence.

But it did not slow him.

He was up and ready for more.

Slaughter knew that all he was doing were delaying tactics. Because without a weapon in his hands, he could beat the giant for hours and it would have little effect other than to tire himself out.

Maggot came around again.

Slaughter backpedaled, his boot rolling on one of the bottles, and he lost his balance. That’s all Maggot needed to gain the advantage. Before Slaughter could get his feet under him properly and his equilibrium in line, Maggot came at him like a fighter in the tenth round going in for the kill. He gave Slaughter a shot to the temple with one fist and then another to the jaw in rapid succession. The zombie was incredibly strong and the second blow sent Slaughter spinning in the dirt. He tried to rise up, his head rioting with stars, but another fist from Maggot put him down.

He lay there, dazed, confused, spitting blood, and wondering if he really had anything left to fight with. He saw it all in perspective in that moment as the crowd cried out for his blood, the hate coming off of them hot and rancid. His entire life spent hitting and being hit, fighting with fists and knives, going down and rising up, taking lives and stomping faces. Where had it gotten him? Here, that’s where. In the dusty hard-packed clay of a cage with this flesh-eating monster while the citizens pressed in like hungry dogs. Civilization. He’d never had much respect for it because he’d always been on the outside, but as he looked at Maggot coming for him yet again and saw the near-orgasmic thrill it gave the animals beyond the wire, he knew if there’d ever been such a thing as civilization—which he doubted—that it was long gone now and the human race had finally taken off its genteel mask of sophistication and refinement. It was midnight at the masquerade and all bets were off. The human race showed its yellow fangs and slobbering mouth, it raised its dirty backside to the world and extended its middle finger. Ha, ha, ha, what a good gag it all was! Us…the human race, pretending to be educated and enlightened, compassionate and charitable, the children of a higher god! What a fucking lark! But that’s all done now. So see us, every man and woman and child, in our unfettered primal fuck-you-and-yours-I-got-mine savage, selfish, simian glory! Look upon the true face of the race: hatred and intolerance, bloodlust and gluttony, the killer ape fresh from the dark jungle flaunting every one of the seven deadly sins, reveling in them and rolling in their iniquity like pigs in shit!

“Welcome home…citizens,” Slaughter said under his breath.

Another Zen moment.

Of all times.