The Walking Dead Prologue: Monsters

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Merle sat back on his dealer's couch, taking a long drag off of the bong they were sharing. Then he passed it to his right, smiling as he shouted, "Here, little brother! Put some hair on your--"

"Damn, Merle!" Daryl yelled back. "Why you gotta be so damned loud? I'm still feeling that moonshine from last night."

"Aw, what's the matter, bro'? Can't take the hangover?" Merle laughed. "Maybe you need more hair of the dog than the hair this'll give ya," he said, quickly snatching the bong back from his brother.

"Hey! Give that back!" yelled Daryl, his hand shooting out and grabbing the bong again. They pulled between them briefly, and it snapped in their hands, cutting Merle and spinning out of Daryl's hands, crashing to the floor, and breaking into pieces.

"Heyyy, man! That bong was handmade," protested the dealer.

Merle wiped the blood from his hand on his shirt, then sucked on the cut before saying, "What the hell are you complainin' about? It was made from a damned vase!"

"It was the only thing I got when my mom passed," the dealer whined.

"You drilled a hole in it, dipshit," said Daryl.

Merle laughed, and tossed the other half of the vase-bong into the floor, watching it break to pieces also.

The dealer just looked at the pieces forlornly through his drugged stupor, and said, "Dude. You guys are monsters."

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Hey, hey!" Merle shouted happily. "Pizza guy's here! About damned time!" Opening the door, he said, "Damn, Kato, I think you got the wrong house. We ordered pizza, not Chinese."

"Hilarious," Glenn deadpanned. "And I'm Korean, not Chinese."

"Whatever, Kato!" said Merle as he jerked the pizza box out of his hand and threw some crumpled bills at him.

Glenn had to chase some of the wadded bills down the steps, and Merle laughed before slamming the door. Glenn looked at the wadded up cash in his hands, sighed, and shoved them into his pocket. Wasn't enough there for a tip. "Thanks, douchebags," he said as he headed for his car.

***

All it took was for Ed to come in the back door and see the empty kitchen table. "How many times do I have to tell you to have my dinner ready when I come home, woman?" he raged.

"I-I'm sorry, baby," said Carol. "It's in the oven. It's almost ready."

Ed gritted his teeth, his jaw jutting back-and-forth a few times, before he seethed, "So what are we having?"

"Corn's on the counter," Carol said nervously, "and green beans are sitting in the microwave. I'm just waiting on the fish sticks to--"

"FISH STICKS?" boomed Ed. "I COME HOME FROM A HARD DAY'S WORK, AND YOU CAN'T EVEN HAVE FISH STICKS READY ON TIME? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" he shouted. "COME HERE!" he said, grabbing for her.

Carol instinctively jerked away, and shouted, "No!" only succeeding in making Ed angrier. "I mean, I-I'm sor--"

SLAP! sounded loudly through the kitchen, bringing a dark welt up over Carol's right eye. "I don't want to hear your 'sorry's!' Just get my damned dinner on the table, woman! If you burn those fish sticks, there's going to be hell to pay!"

Carol didn't move right away as she was feeling around her eye, and Ed shouted, "NOW!" She whimpered and moved to the oven, quickly reaching in for the pan. In her haste she forgot a pot holder, and burned her hand. The pan and fish sticks clattered to the floor as she screamed, and ran for the sink, running cold water over her hand. Between the pain in her eye, the pain in her hand, her husband's lack of care that she burned herself, embarrassment over her vulnerability, and panic over the dropped fish sticks, she started crying.

Ed just looked at her, angrier than ever. He reached in the fridge for a beer, twisted the cap off, threw it at her head, and stalked out to the living room, muttering, "Stupid cow can't even get damned fish sticks done right. What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

As he disappeared around the corner, Carol continued to hold her hand under the cold water, and whispered to herself, "What did I do to deserve such a monster?"

***

Glenn Rhee was just coming into Pizzaface's from his latest delivery when Mark called out, "Hey, Glenn! Got another one for you- the Peletiers! Just came in a few minutes ago, but she promised a twenty dollar tip if she could get it quick. Her husband started shouting in the background about wasting money just after that though."

"They fighting again, Mister Pock?" asked Glenn.

"What else?" asked the boss dismissively. "I heard him screaming something about 'fish sticks' as she hung up. She sounded like she was crying."

"Damn," said Glenn. "Let me jump on that. By the way, those stoner A-holes you sent me to didn't even tip!"

"The monsters," the boss said in mock horror.

"What's monstrous is the minimum wage for food service, boss!"

For the first time, Mark looked up from the pizza dough he was kneading, and looked completely unamused.

Glenn just rolled his eyes as he grabbed the next pizza, and shouted, "I love my job, boss!" as he ran out the door.

Pock shook his head, then punched the pizza dough on the table. "Smart ass," he said.

***

"Mm!" said the blonde reporter. "Mister Atsan, this pizza is delicious! Great recommendation!"

"You think?" he asked. "I think it could use... more meat," he said with uncertainty.

"Well, if you know a better pizza place, I'd love to know about it!" she said enthusiastically. "This is great."

"Glad you like it," he chuckled, "but please, just call me Atsan; no 'Mister.'"

"Oh! Okay," said the reporter, pushing a dangling piece of cheese into her mouth. "Then your last name is...?"

"It's 'Atsan,', Miss Hunch," he said pleasantly. "No one uses my first name."

"Oh, well then," she said with a small laugh, "Call me Iva then."

"Iva it is then," replied Atsan. "A lovely name you don't hear often anymore."

"You say that like you're some old fogie, Atsan, but I doubt we're that far apart in age," she teased.

"You might be surprised," Atsan teased back with a charming smile.

"Mm-hmm," said Iva. "I think I know being buttered up when I hear it. So let's get to it. What brings you to Atlanta, Atsan?"

"The large homeless population," he said without hesitation. "As you know, the Atsan Association has been asked to expand beyond our orphanages into other areas where people need help, and we've gladly agreed to do so. I've come to sample the homeless population here to see how we might best serve them."

"'Sample?'" Iva asked.

"Well, 'assess' might be a more acceptable word," Atsan corrected himself.

The two laughed amiably, and the interview continued over their pizza lunch for another forty-five minutes.

"Well, I really have to get back to the office if I'm going to get this story in early enough for the evening edition," said Iva.

"Perhaps once you're done, I could see you this evening at my hotel? I'm staying at the Four Seasons in the penthouse. I'd love to have you for dinner."

"Something besides pizza?" Iva said, her eyebrow raised.

Atsan smiled back. "Oh, I can't imagine the two could compare."

***

Rick Grimes sat in his patrol car next to the curb where the best food truck in town parked, polishing off a huge slice of pizza from a box marked with the Pizzaface's logo, and starting in on some fries. He was a couple of bites in when his partner, Shane Walsh, got in on the passenger side with his lunch order. "Man, I don't understand why it takes them so much longer to make the pizza pie compared to the regular pizza slice. It's just more dough on top, right?"

"I feel your pain, brother," said Rick around a mouthful of fries.

Shane looked at him and laughed. "Yeah, I can see how it's hindering you. That pain might just be indigestion."

Rick laughed after he swallowed. "Why don't you just order two single slice combos and sandwich it together yourself?"

"And do what with the extra fries?" asked Shane. "I hate to waste food."

"Feed it to the birds?" Rick asked in a tone that said it was a no-brainer.

"What?" balked Shane. "Attract those little beggars every time they see the sheriff's star? No thanks!"

"Yeah, you're right," Rick said with a hint of sarcasm. "Feed creatures that are only looking for a way to survive? What was I thinking?"

Shane punched him in the shoulder, and they both laughed.

"Dispatch to Deputies Grimes and Walsh," crackled the radio. "Holdup suspects are approaching your area. Head them off on the 85."

Shane grabbed the radio mic and responded, "10-4. Deputies Walsh and Grimes responding."

Rick hit the lights and sirens, and said, "Guess you need a faster order, partner."

As he tossed his lunch out the window, Shane griped, "Yeah, danged birds get my lunch after all."

"Monsters," laughed Rick.

***

Seven hours later, Miss Hunch stepped off the penthouse elevator, and was greeted by an empty foyer. Slightly confused, she stepped around the corner to see Atsan standing in the middle of the living room area, watching the news on a big screen television mounted to the south wall. The sound was muted. There were people running in the streets, chased by what looked like other people who were disfigured somehow. There were cars clogging the out-of-town lanes over the bridge, and then there was an explosion- one which she heard outside of the penthouse in the distance.

"What the hell is going on out there?" asked Iva. "I was so into my own story today, and in such a rush to get here, I hadn't checked the wires. The traffic was insane though!"

Atsan sighed. "It's what happens when my sampling sessions get interrupted."

Taken aback, Iva said, "Excuse me?"

"I told you I was here to sample the homeless population," answered Atsan. "Usually, that can be done without interference, but someone saw me, yelled for the police, and chased me off. The result is these... monsters," he said with some disgust. "Not quite windigo- just someone infected by a windigo bite, infecting others with their bite, and next thing you know," he sighed, "it's on the news. Damn."

"I-I don't understand," said Iva. "What do you mean 'someone saw you? Yelled for the police? Chased you off?' What do you have to do with-- gasp!" she stopped when Atsan turned around.

Blood ringed Atsan's mouth, and ran down his chin and onto the coat and shirt of his formerly impeccable white suit. "I mean I was in the middle of eating a real meal after that horrid pizza," he said. "Unfortunately, that was interrupted by those who didn't know better. But then I should have known better really. Never let yourself get too hungry when making important decisions," he said calmly as he walked towards Iva, who was frozen in fear.

"Fortunately, I planned ahead," said Atsan, "and as I said earlier today, I can have you for dinner."

Iva started to scream, but was cut short by Atsan biting into her neck.

Story, original characters and content are owned by Chris Bishop. Copyright Chris Bishop 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.

This story is just crossover fun. Here's the canon introduction of Atsan: .Hotdogs & Zombies - The Curse of the Windigo!. :)

The Walking Dead Prologue: Monsters

Thanks for stopping in! :^D

The Walking Dead Prologue: Monsters

Thanks for stopping in! :^D

Found this on Facebook- monsters I didn't cover in this story.