The Door

This story is by Quill Treestone and was part of our 2019 Summer Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

“You really need to stop leaving the door open. It’s like you want to get murdered. Anybody could walk right in.”

“Looks like they did.”

“Rude.”

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but I have a lot of work to do. Did you need something?”

“You’ve been staring super hard at that blank screen for a really long time. I came to see why.”

“What?”

“I checked in earlier. The door was open, as usual, and here you were. Earbuds in, back facing the door, hands hovering over your keyboard. Screen as blank as your face right now. You’re lucky I’m not a crazy person.”

“Debatable.”

“Agreed. But that was three days ago.”

“Three days? Really?”

“Yep. Is this a time flies or stands still situation?”

“I don’t even know anymore.”

“What’s got you stuck?”

“I’m trying to think of a story to write that takes place inside one room.”

“Who possessed you to do that?”

“It’s an assignment. Theme is constraint.”

“Isn’t that when you stop using a certain letter or something?”

“Yeah, kinda. There’s a bunch of ways to do it… Anyway, it’s supposed to make you creative.”

“First you have to start. Any ideas?”

“A couple.”

“Great. Let’s hear ‘em.”

“Well, first one starts with a group of people hiding in a dark room. Everyone’s whispering things like, “I’m gonna take a look,” “no, don’t do it,” “I hear something.” Clearly, they’ve been there for a while. Everyone is getting anxious. Until the door opens and they all jump up to yell ‘SURPRISE’ because their birthday person has come home.”

“Um…”

“Or… it’s about a heavily depressed person, brooding in a cramped smelly house, ignoring phone calls from their mom, aunt, cousin, whatever, until their mind breaks.”

“Uh…”

“With, you know, other things that make it better. They have multiple personalities, they’re hallucinating, maybe power cuts out and they start to think in fragments, talking nonsense to themselves until someone knocks on the door.”

“No. I don’t like either of those.”

“Well, that’s all I’ve got.”

“This is no bueno.”

“Alright then, let’s see you try.”

“Sure. Easy. There are zombies outside, banging on the door. We’re hiding, someone has a knife. We run to the door and let them in, so we can kill them and get out.”

“Zombies.”

“Yep.”

“I think I like my second one better.”

“Cult classics speak for themselves. But if you don’t want my help…”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s see what happens.”

“You’re a writer. I gave you a prompt. Go.”

“Fine. What if these zombies at the door are sentient enough to be knocking instead of banging?”

“You mean like that T.V. show?”

“No, not quite.”

“Explain.”

“Like, somewhere between normal brain capacity of humans, and mindless rambling of decomposing undead.”

“Which side do they lean to most?”

“Uh, they can kind of talk, but it’s guttural and cavemanish. They do, however, retain some ‘living human’ traits. They never sleep though. So, let’s face it, all that necrotic muscle plus no sleep – wouldn’t keep them graceful for very long.”

“Great, what else? Why are they at the door?”

“Uh, recruitment maybe?”

“Recruitment. Like zombie army, or zombie church?”

“No, too obvious.”

“What then?”

“Zombie podcast interns.”

“This has taken a strange turn.”

“Zombies are strange.”

“You’re absolutely right. Proceed.”

“Podcasts are a huge thing in entertainment for Zombie communities.”

“Sure. Why not. So, why is this group of sluggish zombie-podcast-interns banging on the door?”

“Knocking.”

“Sorry, knocking.”

“They are here to ask me on their podcast for an interview. I’m already a well-established author. I have received many honors, as well as been on New York Times Bestseller lists, more than once, and for some reason my works resonate with Zombies.”

“So what you’re saying now is: ‘in this story Zombies can read.’”

“Yep.”

“As you wish.”

“So, I open the door – “

“Wait. Question.”

“Go for it.”

“Am I there?”

“Where?”

“In your house. I’m assuming you have your own house, being a famous author and all.”

“Of course I do. But –“

“Shouldn’t I be there? I am constantly saving your life. Observe the door.”

“It’s closed.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Maybe we don’t hang out anymore…”

“You wound me.”

“No, it’s fine, you’re there.”

“Great!”

“But doing something else, out of scene. So, I open the door – “

“One question.”

“You’ve already asked a bunch of them. But sure.”

“Are you armed?”

“Should I be?”

“If you’re letting them in, won’t you need to protect yourself? Just in case?”

“Fair point. They do like flesh. I just don’t see them as mindless killers.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, they’re interns.”

“So?”

“If I agree to an interview they’ll hand me a rough outline of questions that’ll be covered during my guest appearance, then go. Zombies are hard to understand verbally. I’ll need notes to follow along.”

“Can I point out that for lumbering, caveman speaking, entities they seem to do a lot of advanced things.”

“I’m okay with it.”

“If you say so.”

“Short stories don’t require explanations for how or why things are.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Sorry I interrupted.”

“No, it’s fine. Where was I?”

“You open the door.”

“Right. So, I open the door –”

“Hold on a second.”

“Sweet baby Jesus.”

“Here’s a thought; say you’ve already accepted invitation and notes. Your story starts with all your furniture in protective covers. Because knocking on the door are actual Zombie podcast hosts, not interns, and they’ll be recording from your living room.”

“And my reason for everything being covered is because I don’t want putrid bodily fluids staining my stuff?”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, I like that.”

“Great! Then, in this scenario, do you have a weapon?”

“No. I’m going to assume that these are well respected public figures, and since we’ll be recording their visit, I won’t be in any danger.”

“Okay. Continue.”

“Since you’re somewhere nearby too, let’s say preparing food, maybe you’ll pop in for a cameo.”

“I love a cameo! Am I preparing Zombie food or People food?”

“Use ‘Human.’”

“Pardon?”

“Zombies are people too.”

“Apologies.”

“No, it’s fine. You didn’t know.”

“While we’re at it, do you hear how frequently we’re saying ‘Zombie?’ Are we comfortable with that?

“Good point. Undead Human?”

“Eh, that would cover ghouls and vampires too.”

“We’re getting off topic.”

“So… did I walk down to market and get everything I need for a Zombie visit, along with regular groceries?”

“Sure. Zombies are mainstream in this reality. So, yeah. There is a Zombie section.”

“Is it okay for me to say: ‘gross’?”

“It’s either that, or we live in apartheid.”

“No, of course not. Go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re positive?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Okay. So. Zombie podcast personalities are knocking on the door -”

“Actually, I do have another question.”

“I will slap your face.”

“Sorry, never mind.”

“No… it’s fine.”

“It’s not important.”

“I’m feeling dark things towards you.”

“I accept that, and I forgive you. Namaste.”

“Spit it out.”

“Ever listen to this podcast before?”

“As we have established, Zombies are hard to understand. I didn’t even make it through a single episode.”

“Therefore, essentially, you’re not sure what this podcast is about.”

“That would be accurate.”

“Great. Then how do you know that after your interview they won’t kill and eat you?”

“Interesting… or… what if they kill guests before recording, wait for reanimation, then hold their interviews!”

“And no one knows about it because Humans don’t have enough patience to listen!”

“And since I don’t have any weapons to protect myself –”

“And I’m busy doing my own thing making food –”

“You’re cameo happens after I reanimate, but you have no idea what’s happened, so when you walk in our vibe is uber creepy –”

“I look around at everyone’s ‘act normal’ faces while hairs on my neck and arms stand up –”

“You come to sit close to me, thinking it’s just ‘obvious’ Zombies that are creeping you out –“

“I lean in and turn to say something to you –”

“When BAM! I attack! And you’re my first meal as a newly turned Zombie.”

“What?!”

“You wanted to be there.”

“I saw things panning out a little differently.”

“Honestly, I’ll probably write something different. Zombies are a bit overdone.”

“A major downside of cult classics. I feel kind of worn out after all that.”

“Yeah, I do too.”

“Well, I think it’s time to do stuff. Or perhaps take a nap. Maybe eat something.”

“Sorry for being cranky earlier.”

“You can make it up by not killing me in your next story.”

“Who says you’ll be in it?”

“Oh, I’m in it. I’m in it so much it would fall apart without me. Like your life.”

“Big boast coming from a supporting character. I can function without you.”

“Without me, you’d be in here talking nonsense to yourself with the door open. Looking like a crazy person to anyone walking by.”

“Someone’s knocking on the door.”

“You’re welcome.”