“Okay, remind me what we’re doing here again?” Theodore whispered, crouching behind a stone barrier as he tried to make his body as small as humanely possible.

“You know, you probably should’ve wished for a better memory,” The Genie quipped, gesturing to his head. “Then again, that probably would’ve been dumb… considering—”

“I just needed to be sure because it sounded like you were asking me to pick from that.” Theodore spat back, pointing to the barrier, or what was moaning behind it.

“It sounded like that because that’s what I said.”

“And that’s exactly why I asked.”

“Just take a pick so we can get out here sooner rather than later.”

Theodore gave the naked blue-skinned god a glare before turning around and peeking over the barrier. Despite it being the second time he’d seen it, his unbeating heart dropped at the sight of a sea of living corpses shuffling mindlessly over what the Genie called a ‘highway’. A ginormous road made of stone, littered with metal poles with flags of iron and glass. There were metal carriages strewn around and among the monsters, rusting and creaking as the hoard of rotten flesh stumbled over, under, and around them.

Whatever this place was, it belongs to them now.

Theodore ducked back down, “Can you at least explain to me why I’m having to pick a creature reeking of rot and death?”

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“Undeath, actually,” the Genie corrected, “they’re called Zombies in this world, I think? Or Zeds? Walkers? You know what, I don’t know. They keep changing the name to make themselves unique or whatever. Zombies, let’s just call them that.”

“Okay, so why is it that you want me to pick a zombie?”

“For it to bite you, of course?”

“Why would I want that?!”

The Genie crossed its arms, rolling its eyes as if annoyed by the man, “Why else would I want you to do anything? For your wish.”

“I didn’t wish to get eaten by some monster of death!”

“Undeath,” the Genie corrected again, “and lower your voice, they might come shuffling here.”

His eyelid twitched at the god’s nonchalance, “That is not what I wished for. I asked you to exempt me from death. This is exactly the opposite of that.”

“That’s not exactly what you wished for and this is exactly that,” the Genie said as they massaged their temple in exasperation. “Look, if the zombie bites you, you get infected by whatever’s infecting it. When you get infected, you become a zombie. And when you become a zombie, you are, as you say, ‘exempt’ from death. Although, again, that was not your wish, not exactly.”

“I know my wish, Genie. And that’s not it.”

“Look, scared-y cat, I can just bring you back if it doesn’t work anyway. I’m a god. So pick a me-damned zombie and let’s get the hell out of here. The stench is starting to get to my clothes.”

Theodore glared at the Genie up and down, “What clothes?!”

“Just pick a damn zombie.”

Despite his indignance, he shared the same sentiments concerning the stomach-churning stench around him. So, despite his qualms about the Genie’s way of doing things, he peeked back over the barrier for a fourth time and observed the hoard.

“How do I choose? I mean, are there differences between each one?” Theodore asked, squinting to see better.

“Not really, they’re all the same.”

“…then why do I have to pick one?”

“Because it’s your wish?”

Theodore closed his eyes and touched his fingers together, letting out a lengthy breath as he started muttering. “Oh God—no, ancestors. Ancestors give me strength not to kill this fraud of a…”

“Are you going to pick? I’m going to die of old age here.”

“Just get that one,” Theodore whispered, pointing to a random zombie.

“Your wish is my command,” The Genie winked and snapped their fingers.