A/N: I’ve changed the spelling of our protagonists name from Brandi to Brandy in order to avoid gender confusion. Just so you know.

Chapter 6: Corpse

“Cotton?” I asked, my mouth slightly agape.

“Yes, cotton,” Chad repeated, holding up an enormous sack of the stuff that he’d bought from the hardware store, “Like the kind you put in plush toys.”

Spazz was, of course, keeled over laughing at me. Bo, for his part, tried very hard to suppress his own laughter, and Chad adjusted his glasses and just looked like he didn’t get it at all.

“Brandy the undead teddy bear!” Spazz guffawed, pointing at the sack. I wanted to glare at her, but my face would not comply. As usual.

“If it’ll get rid of the smell, go for it.” I said assertively, trying to sound nonchalant about the situation in my raspy voice. What had I expected anyway? Newspaper? Sawdust?

The procedure didn’t take too long. Bo and Spazz left the room, unable to stomach the smell when Chad cut me open. I didn’t feel a thing, and Chad examined my corpse in a very clinical way with a mask over his nose and mouth, so it was a lot like going to the doctor’s. Except that I was dead, of course.

I was lying on a metal table in Chad’s very tidy basement, and the little setup he had going was actually a pretty impressive replica of an autopsy work area.

He had to break my ribcage open to actually get at the rotting pieces of meat, and I watched with interest as he removed the discolored, damp things one by one; my liver, my lungs…even my heart, dropping them all in a metallic dish. I felt very detached from the whole situation. He’d paused and squinted at things a few times, like he was confused, but he’d always shrug it off and keep going.

Once he’d finished he started having a go at my arm, which kind of had me confused, but I let him do what he wanted. It was when he started the drilling that I gave him a strange look. He was too engrossed in his task to notice though, so I started nestling myself into my own thoughts, thinking of life in general. And how I was lacking it.

Cole was sure to be effected by the whole “missing body” scandal. I felt guilty when I thought about how moving around was affecting the friend I’d died for, and I made a mental note to go investigate this personally and make sure that my good friend was all right as soon as I was sure that I could move quietly and inconspicuously. And without stinking.

I was dragged out of my thoughts when I noticed Chad working on my legs. I craned my neck and stared down at him pointedly, but he still didn’t take any notice. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, vaguely wondering if I’d ever sleep again.

Then Chad started doing strange things, like frowning and putting things that looked suspiciously like Ziploc baggies in my chest. What was he turning me into, a lunchbox? He then cut my throat open and squinted inside, looking like he’d just discovered something extraordinary. He then began cutting away at it and sewing things at random, and I gave up trying to understand what he was up to.

Soon Chad started stuffing my chest with the cotton, every so often spraying the fluff with something. When he was done be broke my ribcage back into place and started drilling some more, to get it back together I assumed. To finish up he stitched me back into place and put his hands on his hips, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

“Alright , try sitting up.” he said, beckoning me with his hands, “Let’s see if everything’s in place.”

I complied, finding it surprisingly easy to move. I dangled my legs experimentally from the table, and then I jumped off of it completely with a startling degree of grace. I tested my arms, and they too worked normally. However, one was much heavier than the other. At first I thought it was my imagination, but I swung them both beside me and sure enough, my arm that had been stabbed was a good deal heavier than I’d remembered.

I opened my mouth to ask about it but Chad held up his hands quickly.

“I know, I know…It’s heavier right?” he said nervously, “The bone was completely destroyed and starting to deteriorate, so I removed it. I replaced it with something better. Go ahead; let your arm drop onto the table.”

I peered at him curiously but did as I was told, lifting my arm above the table and letting it fall. It slammed onto the surface with a metallic CLANG! I looked back over to Chad, who merely grinned widely.

“Titanium Alloy.” He reported with a sheepish smile, “My Father’s kind of, well, well-off let’s say, and my birthday presents are often monetary. I figured I might as well have fun with it. I couldn’t help myself. Isn’t it neat?”

I stared at my arm and lifted it carefully, flexing my fingers. Then I looked back at Chad. I wasn’t used to this cheerfulness of his, it was creeping me out. Wasn’t he supposed to be anti-social?

“It’s bizarre, you defy logic.” Chad told me, looking pensive. “Not all of you is rotting, you know.”

“What?” I asked, surprising myself with the sound of my voice. I lifted a hand to my throat.

“Ahh, so you’ve noticed!” Chad raised his eyebrows with a shy smile, “Your neck was a mess, and you should have seen the condition your vocal cords were in...!”

“Let me guess--they were rotting?” I asked, still mystified by how normal I sounded.

“No, no they weren’t.” Chad replied simply scratching his head. “Actually, it’s so strange, after working in your throat for a bit and sewing in those plastic lungs, your body kind of…adapted.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, it like…healed.”

“What? How does that work?”

“I don’t know!” Chad exclaimed mournfully, “It’s driving me crazy! And you’re brain is probably intact as well…and your muscles and some of your nerves.”

“So am I dead or not?” I demanded.

“Well, scientifically yes, considering you have no heart in there.” Chad gestured to the metal dish full of organs, “It’s sitting over there. But your mind is working and…well you’re holding together. You’ve got no blood but your skin is almost… alive. I think you can heal yourself…you make no sense!”

“And since when are you an expert on the walking dead?” I demanded, secretly delighted that my voice could now express sarcasm, “If that makes any sense at all to begin with. I mean, I’m the first zombie that I’ve ever come into contact with so…maybe that’s how it’s supposed to work?”

“You could be right. It’s still so strange. It’s almost like…parts of you are frozen in time.” He muttered quietly

“Oh now come on, now I’m defying time and space?”

Chad was shaking his head and looking me over, “You still can’t make expressions with your face can you?”

“Nope.” I responded, poking my own face curiously, “Are you going to tell me you’re a plastic surgeon now?”

“No I…I don’t know if there’s anything we can do about that…” Chad was trailing off, lost in his own musings.

“You have fun thinking. I’m going to go amaze Spazz and Bo with my non-limping self.” Chad waved me off distractedly as I headed up the stairs and up to the main level.

There really was no furniture, it looked abandoned. Spazz and Bo were both sitting on the stairs to the upper level, looking bored. They hadn’t heard me come up. I tip-toed over and let my fist drop on the railing loudly, giving them both a start.

“Brandy!” Bo exclaimed, “You…You’re standing up straight!”

I nodded and moved my arms around to show them my flexibility.

“And you don’t stink!” Spazz frowned slightly, “But…now you smell very strongly of lemon. Why do you smell like a big lemon?”

“I smell like a lemon?” I parroted, honestly unaware.

The both started and looked at me with surprised faces.

“Your voice!” Spazz muttered, “It’s so…”

“Normal!” Bo finished, blinking.

“Thanks.” I replied, looking at Bo, “Do I really smell like a lemon?”

“Ah yes!” Chad called as he trudged up the stairs, his voice echoing in the empty house, “I sprayed the cotton with lemon air freshener to make sure that the rotting smell was covered up.”

“I see.” Spazz smirked and looked up at me from the stairs, “So now you’re a lemon-flavoured undead teddy bear!”

I wanted to make a face at her, but since that was impossible I merely crossed my arms in a very displeased way. She just snickered at me.

“I’m going to go for a walk then.” I declared, turning to go.

“Wait just a second!” Spazz cried, “You’re not going out like THAT are you?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re in tattered clothes covered in graveyard dirt, you can’t go out like that!” she snapped as-a-matter-of-factly, “Not to mention you’re face still looks quite dead, in case you’ve forgotten those massive stitches and your almost blue skin.”

“I could give you a sweater?” Chad offered meekly, “If I can find one with a hood… And I’m sure I’ve got some jeans or something lying around…”

“See? Now go get dressed dumbass!” she ordered.

Since I couldn’t be bothered to argue, I let Chad lead me back into the basement to a room to the left. It was his bedroom, and it was unbearably tidy. He opened a dresser filled with neatly folded clothes. Clearly he was the type of guy that even folded his underwear, though I wasn’t going to check.

For the next half hour we went through all the clothes he never wore, finally coming across a pair of dark blue skinny jeans that actually fit me. There was no sweater, at least not one that we could find in his horribly organized room. I came across a leather sleeveless top though, one that zipped up at the front with a high collar. It looked really out of place in his wardrobe.

When I showed it to Chad he’d almost turned purple in embarrassment and assured me it had been a joke gift from his classmates back in grade twelve, almost begging me to take it. Amused, I ended up having to wear it just because all of his other shirts looked exceptionally nerdy and I’d declared I’d never put them on, dead or alive.

Defeated, we returned to the main level without a sweater, only to discover that Spazz had gone out. Bo had stayed, and he seemed to like the leather top. We ended up waiting an hour before Spazz returned with a garbage bag full of clothes.

“Figured Bo needed some new clothes anyway,” she gestured to his rags, “So I picked something up for you too. Here,” she chucked a black leathery thing at me, “I won’t be seen with someone without a sense of style.”

When I’d realized that the thing was a long leather trench coat I’d been tempted to tell her that this didn’t count as “blending in”, but I restrained myself. Chad was eying the bag suspiciously as Bo dug through it.

“Did you…you didn’t steal these did you?” he asked nervously.

“Believe it or not, I DO have a bank account you know.” Spazz snapped, “Those are from the Salvation Army,” she pointed to the bag, “And I just saw that trench coat on the way back and it was on sale.”

She made a small contempt noise and huffed. I ignored them and put the coat on.

“I’m going out.” I declared, adjusting the sleeves.

“We’ll go with you!” Bo exclaimed as he started to get up, but I held up a hand.

“Thanks, but I’d actually like to be alone right now.” I said evenly.

I felt their eyes on me. All of them were thinking the same thing.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” I assured them.

“Where are you going?” Spazz asked doubtfully.

I glanced back to her as I opened the front door.

“To my grave.”

---

End of Chapter 6!

So now Brandy’s name is not only spelled differently, but he’s got new innards! How will he cope with this new development?

Up next: Cole is back in the plot!

Special thanks to last chapter’s reviewers; SapphireIris, Eminem Rocks!, Rae and Sinking-Sorrow (Even though all you did was demand for an update :p)

Please keep reviewing!