For ysabetwordmith‘s prompt
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The war in Afghanistan had been getting really tricky.
Carl heard it was worse over in Africa and other parts of the Middle East – even down in Western Europe – where every mass grave for the last forty years had been dug up from inside. The unhallowed dead were rising all over the world, and they were, it seemed, really, really hungry.
Here, the worst problem was the MIA. They hadn’t been laid to rest with proper rites because they hadn’t been laid to rest at all, and they’d come back when nobody was expecting them, slipping into their old units and wreaking havoc. Their chaplain was working overtime, and he’d enlisted the help of an imam from a nearby village and a rabbi they’d had to smuggle in.
And now they were being shambled towards by seventeen dead Afghanis – all but three of them young women – two French soldiers that had gone missing years ago, and a guy from their unit.
“Shit,” Carl grunted, “sorry, chaplain. That’s Joe Ellis.”
“How can you tell?” The poor guy sounded like he was about to lose it, and Carl couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t much left of Joe’s face to identify him.
“The boots. And the tattoo on the hand. I don’t know how you’re going to deal with this one, father. He’s an atheist.”
“What ever happened to ‘no atheists in foxholes?’” the chaplain muttered.
“Joe used to go on about that. Said that that was because people have been trained to pray when they’re scared, not because they suddenly believe. ‘Everyone is afraid,’ he’d say, ‘it’s part of being human.’” Of course, what was left of Joe wasn’t anywhere near human, but Carl was trying hard not to think too much about that.
“Fear.” The chaplain nodded thankfully. “Cover me?”
“I’ve got your back.” Hoping that the little man knew what he was doing, Carl followed him on his crab-skitter across the field. The imam was laying the girls to rest, but Joe, or what was left of him, was trying to chew on someone who had once been his best buddy. While Carl helped the kid hold him off, the chaplain prayed.
“We come to the end of our life as a release, as a respite. We come to the end of our lives as a chance to lay down our burdens, to set aside fear. For in the time after death, truly there can be no more pain, and no more fear. There is nothing left to be afraid of.”
Slowly, and at first uncertainly, the zombie that had once been Joe lay down on the ground. As the chaplain kept talking, Joe’s body reached for a lighter, and, with a beatific smile on what was left of his face, set himself on fire.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/168426.html. You can comment here or there.
That’s, um, disturbing. Well written. Minor typo in paragraph 4 — I think “And not whey were being shambled towards” might be intended for, “And now they were …”.
I blame the prompt for the disturbing topic. Thank you.
Fair point; I’m the one who asked for the unhallowed dead rising as ghouls and making war a lot nastier.
Yes, yes you were 🙂 I think I did okay with it, though.
I think you did great with it.
Thank you!!
Yes, you did. Brilliant.
*blusH* thank you
User ysabetwordsmith referenced to your post from Read “… in Foxholes” by Aldersprig saying: […] valiantly tackled the disturbing prompt I left during the last Giraffe Call, with “… in Foxholes […]
Eeeh, yeah, agreeing with Janet here, disturbing. (I can picture an expanded version as one of the darker Twilight Zone episodes (like the one where the guy visits the former concentration camp)) Good, but ack.
I tend to agree, but thank you.
I think you did a terrific job with my prompt. This is creepy, yet with a hopeful note for the cooperation and creative problem-solving. I tend to like my war stories with a lot of grit, so you did well with that. Also, this one stands alone well, but the setting seems to hold a lot of promise if you have fans of undead!fic.
Thank you!
So I guess “shoot from the hip and aim for the head” wasn’t working? Gee, makes me wonder what they’d do for a Discordian. Or a Raelian.
Without knowing very much about either group, might I suggest a lot of reading first? And lots of clerical experience sharing on the internet…
oh man, I wouldn’t want to be lurking in those forums…!
You’d want to share what worked so people didn’t have to make things up on the fly.
*grin*
Good one! A missing quote and a typo in the following? “What ever happened to ‘not atheists in foxholes?” the chaplain muttered. Should it be “What ever happened to ‘no atheists in foxholes’?” the chaplain muttered. ?
yes, on both, thanks!
Hmm. A macabre side to you I was unaware of. A good quandary neatly put to rest.
I like macabre!