What if I could make use of that tether?
In my mind I create the motion and force his body to pull itself upright…
Swaying, the omega rises.
Fuck! A horror show!
Still gray and cold, but the creepy abomination is standing.
His eyes, empty, inhuman…
I burst into a stupid nervous laugh and stare for a moment, stunned.
Holy shit, I created a zombie…
Could I do more? Could I control him more consciously?
I force him to take a few steps, still tethered, steering him with my will.
He walks, stiff but responsive.
I make him turn, then kneel by the bed. I force him to grab the bed rail. It’s the typical hospital-style bed with thick metal bars.
He’s not as big as an alpha, but he’s sizable enough, maybe thanks to his grandfather’s genes. He’s at least five eleven and decently built.
I force him to brace both hands on the rail and start pulling with all his strength.
I push pulses of energy through him with each pull. I’m surprised by how much force this zombie can generate. The frame creaks painfully, again and again.
Pull, zombie, pull!
Crack!
The rail pops free from the frame. Perfect!
Now I can slide the cuffs off. I’ll still have them hanging from my ankles, but that’s fine. I drag the cuffs over the rail and stand up.
"You did wonderfully, darling," I say, patting his shoulder, stressing the worddarlingwith a good dose of dark sarcasm.
His eyes are so… empty and wide open. I could take back the energy I gave him, but why not use him a little more?
I’m about to head with him toward the door when my gaze catches on the huge wall of metal drawers again. The mortuary refrigerator looks kinda impressive, it’s forty feet long and… If this is an active funeral home, there should be corpses inside, dressed in nice suits and ready to be presented to grieving families in open caskets. But maybe I could make use of them too…
I’m a disgusting person, sure, blasphemous even, but I’m fighting for my life, and their bodies aren’t going to need anything anymore.
I order the zombie to open the drawers one by one.
Most are empty, but three of them hold unsettling contents.
One by one, the zombie slides the bodies out, lying in the refrigerated body drawer… or trays, however you wanna call them.
One is an older alpha, a bit overweight, maybe died of a heart attack, though I’m not about to diagnose him.
The second is a very old beta, a librarian type.
The third is a young alpha, slim and athletic. I’m curious what killed him. They covered it well with makeup, so it’s not obvious, but I start with him.
I touch his arm gently and send a pulse of energy into the stiff body.
