I crept out of the castle, flamethrower at the ready, and shone my flashlight across the darkened town square. Nothing villainous or dangerous immediately popped out at me, but if anything, that put me even more on edge. I had told everyone in the mess hall that there was nothing to worry about, and there wasn’t! But still, being alone in the dark makes your brain turn against you and imagine the worst-case scenario, like zombies or vampires…or zompires…vambies?
By the way, holding a flamethrower is a two-hand job, so to see where I was going, I’d had to stuff my flashlight in my mouth. While the setup was far from comfortable, if I was gonna get jumped, I at least wanted to see whoever or whatever was doing the jumping. Not that I was going to get jumped, however, because once again, there was nothing out here; stop freaking out!
The first thing I did was check the main gate. It wasn’t too hard to find; at the top of the rampart, I saw the flickering of torches and the silhouettes of various guards on patrol. That was good news; it meant the castle entrance hadn’t been breached, but it was also possible the Boujie Boys had discovered another way inside. What if there was a hole somewhere in the castle wall or what if they had tunneled underground in the dead of night? Just because the front gate was still in one piece didn’t mean we were safe. Why is waiting for something scary to happen so much scarier than the actual scary thing?
“All the world’s a griddle and all the boars and sow are merely bacon,” I whispered a couple of lines from Hamlet to help calm my frayed nerves and distract myself from the growing tension I felt in my gut. Maybe it wasn’t smart to be making noise when someone or something was potentially lurking around, but since I already had my flashlight out, I figured stealth was off the table.
I made a round across the castle courtyard and then did another sweep just to be safe. Nothing. Having no idea where else to look, I crept up to the mess hall window where we’d originally heard the mysterious noise. I peeked around the shrubbery and the windows, trying to see if there was some wild animal nearby that had been tapping against the glass. Surprise, surprise, I didn’t find squat. “Maybe a bird just hit the window, and it flew away,” I said aloud, repeating my original theory and forcing myself to relax. Yeah, that was probably it; it was just a bird. I choked out a strained laugh; everyone was on edge with this whole siege thing, so we were probably just the tiniest bit paranoid.
Turning around, I prepared to return to the castle and get back to work, only to have my flashlight illuminate the dark, shambling form of a zombie, and it was coming right at me! How did I know it was a zombie? Well, it was a man, a little on the taller side; his clothes were rumpled and torn, his face covered in dried blood, he smelled terrible, and he walked with a heavy limp. Now, some people might suspect those are just symptoms of a very violent alcoholic, but I began to suspect he might’ve been undead when he reached out his hands towards me and moaned, “Braaaaiiiinssss.”
I screamed; I’m not ashamed to admit it. What I am ashamed about, however, is that in my panic, I dropped my makeshift flamethrower onto the ground, where it fell with a wet thud. I quickly bent down to retrieve my only means of defense, but Mr. Zombie was surprisingly agile for being dead. He lunged forward, tackling me to the ground. “Braiiiins!” He smelled of Earth and decay, his few remaining teeth bared as he tried to bite into my face. Thinking fast, I spat out my flashlight and shoved it into his rotting mouth. He blinked, surprised, and I took that momentary reprieve to kick him off of me and scrambled away.
Not fast enough, however. The zombie pulled out my leg from under me and my chin slammed into the ground, causing my vision to blur as I hit the earth. Suddenly he was on top of me again, the stench of decay almost overbearing. I would like to point out again to everyone at home that I’m a skinny 14-year-old girl, so I didn’t have high hopes of getting Mr. Zombie off of me a second time; I could, however, make a lot of noise. “Help!” I screamed into the night air, furious at the jarring genre shift of this story. You don’t travel back in time just to get eaten by a zombie!
“Mr. Edwards, please, behave yourself!” A man’s voice cut through the din of undead moaning and my general screaming. Suddenly, I felt the load on my back lighten as the zombie was hoisted off of me. “Mr. Edwards!” came the voice again, “What did we say about wandering off?”
“Sorry.” Mumbled the zombie remorsefully.
I spotted my flashlight lying on the ground a few feet away. I scrambled to pick it up and illuminated the scene before me. King Cassian had the zombie in a half-nelson and looked to be scolding the creature. The zombie, to its credit, appeared to be properly scolded. Its head was hung in shame, and I swear I even heard it whimpering.
“Your majesty?” I asked, not making heads or tails of the situation.
“Ah, hello, Piper,” grunted the king as he held the zombie in place. “Sorry about Mr. Edwards, he’s prone to wandering.” King Cassian turned the zombie around and gave him a stern parental look. “Now, are you going to behave from now on?” The zombie nodded its head vigorously. “Good boy!” Cassian released the zombie and reached into his robes, pulling out a severed hand! He tossed it to the zombie, who caught it in midair and chowed down on the thing like he hadn’t had a meal in years, which, being a zombie, maybe was the case.
“Uh, pardon my French,” I said, standing up and backing several feet away, “but Pourquoi y a-t-il un zombie dans la cour?”
“Excuse me?” asked Cassian as he knelt down, picking up a dirt-caked shovel and lantern that were resting at his side.
“Zombie! In the courtyard! Why?!”
Cassian blinked, “Oh, yes, I do suppose that deserves an explanation.” Cassian tossed me the dirty shovel. I wasn’t ready, and it smacked me in the face. “I’d been just about to fetch for you anyways, but before that, could you help me dig up this last body? My back isn’t what it used to be, and the fewer people aware of what’s going on, the better.”
“Body?” I asked, picking myself off the ground and rubbing where the shovel had smacked my face.
King Cassian had indeed said body, and he led the now-placated Mr. Edwards and me over to a recently disturbed graveside. Still in a daze, I spent the next fifteen minutes shoveling aside soil and finally unearthed another stiff. A woman who looked like she’d been in the ground for a while but whose clothes were still thankfully able to cover up all the important parts. Cassian and I worked together to pull the dead woman out of the Earth, and we stuffed her into a rusty wheelbarrow that was beside the grave.
“Any particular reason why you’re having me engage in late-night grave-robbing?” I asked, trying to rub dirt off my hands and desperately wishing I had some of that oregano disinfectant with me.
Cassian lifted his lantern, casting a furtive glance into the darkness. “I don’t want to risk us being overheard,” whispered Cassian as he hoisted the wheelbarrow and began to move further into the darkness, “at this point, it would be easier and safer just to show you what’s going on.”
Cassian took me along several backroads and alleyways, finally leading us to an impressive-looking church made of pure-white stone. I kept glancing nervously at Mr. Edwards, who was still traveling with us. Thankfully, he didn’t seem interested in eating me at the moment, as Cassian was continuing to provide the undead man with severed limbs, which he was munching on like candy.
We entered the church and walked past dozens of empty pews, the room completely quiet save for Mr. Edwards gnawing on a leg bone and sucking out the marrow. “I appreciate all you’ve done to help this kingdom, Piper.” Said Cassian suddenly, “And most of all, thank you for helping me to reconnect with my daughter.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, confused at the random compliment. “And since we’re someone more private, would you mind telling me why we’re sneaking dead bodies into a church?”
In response, Cassian set down the wheelbarrow and strode to a nearby wall. He pushed against a random-looking stone, and the room shook slightly as the wall receded, revealing a secret passage behind it. Cassian turned back to face me, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that I’d seen multiple times before from his daughter. “We’re building an army.”
XXX
The fake wall led to a small room with a wooden panel on the floor, maybe ten feet across and five feet wide. We stepped on the panel, and as we started to descend, I realized we were on an elevator. When were elevators invented? I had no idea. We rode the elevator far, far below the Earth, finally coming to a stop as we stepped off into what I immediately recognized as a catacomb, complete with mounds of skeletal bodies, creepy rats, and more bugs than seemed to be dead people. The catacombs were nearly pitch black save for my flashlight and Cassian’s lantern. In the far distance, if I squinted, I could just barely make out a green light pulsating ominously, but it was too far away to make out any details.
We’d traveled in silence as we’d descended, and the quiet of the elevator ride had given me time to reflect on how much had happened in the last half hour. I’d been jumped by a zombie, gone grave robbing with the king, taken a secret elevator into some creepy underground crypt, and now I was pretty sure Cassian was going to take us closer towards that spooky green-.
“This way.” Said Cassian as he and Mr. Edwards strode forward, heading directly toward the strange light which was making me feel all sorts of on edge. Of course.
We walked past what felt like hundreds of cracked and decaying skeletons before reaching an old wooden door caked with mold and damp. It looked like one of those doors you’d find in an old prison, complete with iron slats near the top so you could see inside or out of the room. The green light continued to pulsate from the other side. Although I was deeply unnerved by everything going on, I was still a nosy teenager, and since I was here, I might as well find out what was happening. I crept over to the door and peeked through the metal slat.
“Live darn you!” Green light burst out of the room, the glow far more intense than before. I teetered back, grabbing my eyes, but even while reeling from the pain, a part of me realized that I knew that voice.
Cassian opened the door and stepped inside, still wheeling the corpse with him. After taking a moment to collect myself, I blearily followed. My night vision had been completely shot by the strange blast of light, and I could hardly see a thing, but as my eyes began to readjust, it looked like we were in some kind of prison. Torches lined the walls, casting eerie shadows across the large room. And were my eyes deceiving me, or were the torches glowing green?
Also, there were more zombies. Several cages lined the sides of the room, and locked inside were maybe two dozen walking stiffs. The zombies zeroed in on me and Cassian as we entered. They made weak swiping motions as we passed by, but thankfully remained stuck in their cages. The fact that there was more than one zombie in the kingdom of Praedones was deeply unsettling, but what really caught my attention was the woman standing in the center of the room. She wore a dark black cloak not unlike my own, and on the wooden table in front of her was what I hoped was a dead body. I hoped it was dead because the woman was pounding the potential cadaver’s chest with her fists and screaming angrily at it.
“Wake up you bag of bones,” The woman snarled, “I said it’s time to get to work!” Despite her angry shouting, the corpse remained stubbornly dead.
With a primal screech, the woman reared back her fists and slammed them into the corpse’s chest. Green light flickered across the woman’s fingertips, and the light traveled out of her hands and dispersed across the corpse. A moment later, the corpse opened its eyes, and green light shot out from every orifice of its body, illuminating the room and temporarily blinding me again.
“Braaaains!” Roared the zombie as it shot up from the table and tackled the woman to the ground.
“Oh gosh, not again.” Groaned Cassian as he left me and Mr. Edwards behind, rushing to yank the zombie off of the woman.
In a normal situation, I feel like I would’ve been pretty quick to help that woman also, but I was a tad preoccupied with the fact that I’d just seen a corpse come to life. And in addition to that, I was pretty sure the woman with the glowing hands had caused it. My brain attempted to make sense of the situation and find a logical conclusion for why a corpse had just started moving on its own. Perhaps that woman had been using nanobots to control the body’s limbs or was directing electrical currents to stimulate parts of the corpse’s nervous system to get it to move. Maybe there was a gas leak down here, and we were all going crazy? My brain helpfully reminded me a moment later that we were in the Middle Ages, and all those things were incredibly unlikely, if not outright impossible. Maybe this woman was another time-traveler from the future like myself, but if she wasn’t, then did that mean–”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“W-witch!” I screamed, scrambling backward and falling on the ground as I pointed slack-jawed at the vile enchantress in front of me that had raised the dead.
“Well, duh.” Scoffed the woman, picking herself off the floor as Cassian restrained the zombie in one of his signature half-nelsons. “You, of all people, should’ve noticed by now.
The woman lowered her hood, and the mascara-covered face of Princess Melanie stared back at me. She looked scuffed up from her zombie tussle, but her signature glare and glowing green eyes remained unchanged. Hold up, were her eyes glowing? That wasn’t normal, but nothing about this situation was what I’d call normal.
“D-did you just cast m-m-magic?” I asked, my mind breaking as it seemed like everything I’d ever known and believed was a lie.
Melanie smirked, bringing her thumb and pointer finger together and creating a tongue of green flame where they met. “Guess you’re not the only magical girl around here. Also, technically,” continued the Princess, motioning to the dozen or so zombies around us, “I’m not a witch, I’m a necromancer.”
Okay, I needed a second to lie down. Thankfully, I was already on the floor. I’d just watched Princess Melanie bring a corpse back to life. Not only that, she had said she was a necromancer; she was using magic, MAGIC WAS REAL!
“We learned at a young age that my daughter possessed the spark,” chimed in Cassian. Still gripping the zombie, he yanked open one of the iron cages and threw the creature inside. “I’ve been wanting to make use of her abilities for years now, however–.”
Cassian cast an awkward glance in his daughter’s direction. “I didn’t wanna help him ‘cause I hated his guts,” said the Princess simply.
Cassian grunted in response. It was hard to tell in the light, but I think he turned slightly pink at that remark.
The king and Princess stared at me expectantly, but I continued to sit on the ground, staring dumbly at them both. Yes, I know it’s rude to stare, but like I said, my entire worldview was in the process of shattering and rebuilding itself. I needed a moment.
“Why zombies?” I finally managed to ask, limply motioning to the undead ladies and gents surrounding us.
“We’re makin’ a freakin zombie army!” Said Princess Melanie excitedly, pounding her fists together.
Cassian walked over towards his daughter, wrapping a loving arm around her. “Melanie and I spent a long time talking,” said the king, “and we realized that perhaps an arranged marriage wasn’t the best course of action for our kingdom.”
“Obviously.” Melanie and I said in unison. Cassian frowned at the both of us but continued.
“So, seeing that I needed to find another way to protect my kingdom and its citizens, I supposed that using my daughter’s ability to raise the dead would be the next-best course of action.”
Cassian walked over to where he’d placed the wheelbarrow and the stiff that was still resting inside; he proceeded to haul the corpse over to the wooden table where Melanie was standing and deposited the body in front of her. “Unfortunately,” continued the king, as he took several large steps away from the table, “necromancy is one of the more difficult branches of magic, and my daughter has very little experience working with her gift on this scale.” Cassian glanced significantly at the zombies around us, “She’s been able to create a few dozen undead soldiers, but we’ve burnt through countless other corpses in the process. Frankly, we might start running out of dead people.”
“Whatever,” said the Princess, looming over the fresh corpse, her hands beginning to crackle with green energy, “You don’t need practice when you’re a natural born prod–”
Melanie touched the corpse with her hand, and the body exploded into a shower of guts and viscera. I screamed as I was well within the splash zone and immediately covered in rotting flesh. King Cassian had wisely stepped outside of the room while he’d been talking.
“Okay fine,” grumbled Princess Melanie, wiping guts out of her eyes and glaring down at me, “I guess I could use a couple of pointers since you’ve been doing this stuff for longer.”
“Pointers?” I asked, picking several yellowing teeth out of my blood-soaked my hair.
Cassian walked back into the room and crouched down next to me, “I know we’ve already asked so much of you,” whispered the king, “But if you can help my daughter to master her powers, we may have the strength to finally drive back Lord DripBussin, the Boujie Boys and any other invaders that come against our kingdom.”
“You want me to teach her magic?” I asked, terrified that I would finally be exposed as a fraud. A moment later, that fear was quickly replaced by anger. “Wait a second,” I exclaimed, hopping to my feet and pointing an accusatory finger at Cassian, “Just a few weeks ago, you were going to slit my throat for the crime of practicing magic, and now I find out your flesh-and-blood daughter is a necromancer?!” I crossed my arms with an angry huff, “Maybe Cassian is Latin for stupid hypocrite.”
“Actually, it means curly-headed,” replied the king sheepishly, “but magic or no magic, you wouldn’t expect a man to kill his daughter, would you?” Cassian reached into his robes and pulled out a white rag, “Besides, up till now, her abilities have been a closely guarded secret; only a handful of people in the kingdom know that she has the spark.” Cassian passed me the rag as if he thought it was a way to apologize. I snatched the rag away from him and started cleaning my face; the rag was beet red after just a few seconds.
“Magic is notoriously difficult to teach,” I said, trying to regain an air of mysticism in my voice as I plucked an exploded eyeball off my dress. “Besides, our two magic types aren’t compatible; what works for me probably wouldn’t work for Princess Melanie.” Another lie as usual, but now was hardly the most appropriate time to admit that I was a phony bologna, especially now that there was a real witch in front of me.
Cassian’s mustache drooped at my words. “Can you at least try?” He looked so sad, like an abandoned puppy; for a brief moment, I almost forgave his rampant hypocrisy.
Princess Melanie stepped forward and crossed her arms. The dark cloak, gothic makeup, and viscera making her look especially eerie. “Look, whether or not our magics are compatible, there’s an army outside our walls that’s either going to kill us or starve us out. So what’s the harm in at least trying?”
She made a good point; we probably were all about to die unless there was some kind of significant change and an army of undead soldiers would certainly be classified as said significant change. I’d take a stab at it, make something up, and afterward, I could come up with some excuse to get out of these creepy catacombs and make a beeline to a hot, bath.
“Okay, I’ll give it a shot,” I grumbled, standing a bit straighter and racking my brain as to how I was supposed to teach a necromancer to more effectively raise the dead.
My mind instantly flashed to one of my favorite books, Balding Planter and the Worcestershire’s Scone. It was about this balding, middle-aged man who realized one day that he had magical powers, but first, he had to go to spell-o-elementary school and acquire a wizard’s license. I loved the book series because even though the magic was fictional, the author spent a copious amount of time detailing how the magic worked in this fictional world. At least, I used to think the magic was fictional, seeing a literal necromancer standing in front of me; maybe the book contained a couple of useful tips and tricks. It was a dubious plan, almost certain to fail, but it was my only idea.
“Magic exists all around us,” I began, pulling my blood-soaked hair out of my eyes and staring directly at the Princess. “You and I can cast spells because our bodies draw upon the natural energy of the Earth and convert it into mana.”
Princess Melanie and Cassian nodded along, but their eyes looked slightly glazed; I had a feeling they weren’t retaining what I was laying down. Maybe I should try simplifying things. “You’re struggling with your magic,” I said, pointing at Melanie, “because you can’t properly channel your mana.”
“Channel it?” She asked.
I looked around the room and spotted a tree root breaking through the dilapidated stone wall. I walked over and tugged at it, breaking off a small piece. I strode back to the Princess and presented her with the root as dramatically as possible.
“You want me to hold a stick?”
“This isn’t a stick,” I corrected, “It’s a wand. These catacombs are brimming with magical energy, and this wand has spent potentially hundreds of years soaking in essence from the decaying bodies around us.”
Princess Melanie and Cassian stared at the root more appreciatively. I continued.
“When you cast a spell, imagine that all of the magic in your body is being concentrated in your hand, then grip the wand tightly and release the magic through its tip in a single, controlled blast.”
Melanie took the stick, gripping it in her hand. “Like this?”
I had no idea, but I just nodded. “Exactly.” Now feel the magic brimming within you, and once it seems like you’re going to burst, shoot it through the wand and shout your magical phrase.”
“What’s the phrase?” Asked Cassian, eyes alight with curiosity.
I paused. Balding Planter always shouted, “It’s balding time!” before casting a spell, but that would probably sound way too weird to shout in real life. I thought for a second, grinned mischievously, and whispered the arcane incantation into the Princess’ ear.
“What the heck does that mean?” She asked, scrunching up her nose.
“The true meaning has been lost to time for eons, “I replied with a swish of my cloak, but if you do everything I said, then there’s a chance this just might work.”
Melanie chewed on her lip, looking surprisingly nervous for a woman who was able to bring the dead back to life. “You can do it, sweetie,” said the king, squeezing her shoulder.
The Princess looked up at him and smiled. It was still weird seeing her look happy. “Okay,” she said, stepping away from her father and towards a dead body that was sprawled out in the corner of the room. “I’ll give it a try.”
Melanie closed her eyes and gripped the stick tightly. Nothing happened for a moment, then, her right hand suddenly flared with green energy. Cassian and I stumbled backward, shielding our eyes from the explosion of light. “It’s working!” Shouted the Princess, her voice barely audible in the swirling maelstrom that had started around us, “IT’S WORKING!”
Then, hand glowing so bright, it hurt to look at, Melanie pointed her wand towards the corpse, sucked in a lungful of air, and shouted the magical command.
XXX
The next morning, we met with the Bougie Boys’ leadership at the castle’s front gate. King Cassian, Princess Melanie and I faced off against the ever-handsome Lord DripBussin and his equally well-groomed entourage. A few nervous-looking Praedonian guards stood by our side while the entire army of Bougie Boys waited outside the castle walls, coiled up like cats, ready to pounce.
“I take it this impromptu meeting is to discuss the terms of your surrender,” began LDB, lips curled in a barely suppressed sneer. LDB looked Princess Melanie up and down, his eyes darkened. “This one will make a fine footstool to rest my feet on after a long day of conquering kingdoms.” Princess Melanie stuck out her tongue in response, both royals clearly remembering their last encounter.
“Actually,” replied Cassian, stepping in front of his daughter and staring down the Boujie Boy’s leader, “we wanted to discuss the terms of your surrender.”
LDB and his men shot glances at one another like they were unsure if Cassian was serious or if this was some elaborate prank. Eventually, they seemed to decide it was a joke, and all burst out laughing. “You’re much more lively than your daughter,” wheezed LDB as he clutched at his sides, “perhaps I’ll have you serve as our new court jester.”
“So I take it that’s a no to surrendering?” Cut in Cassian, expression unmoving. “I’d seriously recommend reconsidering.
The laughter died immediately. “You can’t be serious,” spat LDB, motioning back to his army, “I have thousands of soldiers at your doorstep, and you’re making threats?”
“I only make threats when I know I have the advantage,” replied Cassian softly. “Leave now, or else.”
“Yeah, get out of here before we make you,” I interjected, hoping LDB would take the bait.
LDB’s eyes zeroed in on me, his face flushed red. “Oh yeah,” he retorted, “you and what army?”
That couldn’t have gone better if I’d wanted it to. Without a word, Cassian and I turned to Melanie and gave a single nod of our heads.
Melanie’s face broke into a wicked smile; she strode forward until her face was just inches from LDB. “You’re hot, DripBussin,” she hissed, hands beginning to glow with green energy, “But not as hot as you think you are.” And then, she gripped her wand and shouted the magic phrase, “Can I haz cheeseburger!”
Silence. Nothing happened. LDB frowned down at Princess Melanie. “Is she quite alright?” he asked, turning to Cassian and me.
The whole area began to shake, causing everyone but Melanie to topple to the ground. A moment later, the crust of the Earth split apart, and a half-dozen mummified heads pulled their way out of the ground. “Brains!” the zombies groaned.
Suddenly, the entire Bougie Boy army came alive with screams as thousands of undead ripped out of the ground and began hungrily pining for all the fresh meat at their doorstep. The soldiers attempted to fight back and even managed to hold their ground at first, but there was no stopping what seemed to be an endless wave of undead rising from the Earth.
“Retreat!” The cry to run for their lives echoed throughout the army as the soldiers broke rank and ran for the hills, the zombies in shambling pursuit.
LDB and the men inside the gate stared wide-eyed at the zombies as they approached, more undead pouring out of the ground by the second. “What the devil are you?” Shrieked LDB, waving his sword to and fro at the approaching monsters.
Princess Melanie’s smile widened even further; her entire body glowed green. “Just your friendly neighborhood necromancer. Now scram.”
The zombies lunged. LDB and his men gave one final shriek of terror and fled the castle, following behind the rest of their retreating army.
Back inside the castle walls, we watched the retreating forms of the Boujie Boys, and all gave a collective cheer. LDB and his army had retrated, and we hadn’t lost a single soldier. The siege of Castle Paredones was finally over!
“You did wonderful, dear.” Said Cassian, wrapping his daughter in an embrace.
Princess Melanie returned the hug, “Yeah, I was pretty awesome, wasn’t I?” she said, squeezing him tighter.
I stared out at the fleeing army of Bougie Boys and the horde of undead, which was in very slow pursuit, and felt immensely relieved. Not just because we were no longer at immediate risk of death or enslavement, but also because I’d managed to help save the kingdom of Praedones, again! Although this time, most of the credit went to Princess Melanie, all I’d done was give her a few pointers.
A rumbling sound filled the entire courtyard, interrupting my line of thinking. I frowned; if I didn’t know any better, that sounded like several thousand empty stomachs growling simultaneously. “Brains?” Asked the zombies in unison, looking at the rapidly fleeing Bougie Boys and then back to the much closer human population within the walls of Praedones.
“Lower the gate!” screamed Cassian as he drew his sword and stepped in front of me and Melanie.
“Brains!’ Cried the several thousand zombies, rushing back toward the castle and being halted by the falling gate just moments before they stormed back inside and devoured all of us.
I stumbled backward, eyes widening at the sight of several thousand zombies pawing at the castle gate, all of them wanting nothing more than to storm inside and have us for a snack. “Uh, can you ask them to chill out?” I asked, turning to Princess Melanie and motioning at the ravenous undead.
“Do I have to do everything around here?” She growled, marching up toward the gate and glaring at her zombies. “Hey, jerkwads,” she shouted, hands glowing with green energy, “behave yourselves or else!”
“Brains?” Asked several thousand zombies all at once.
“You can have all the brains you want,” replied the Princess testily, her entire body glowing, “but not from anyone within the castle walls, understand?”
“Aww, man.” Moaned the zombies in unison.