“Where do I even begin?”

T-tm, t-tm, t-tm, t-tm, t-tm…

It’s a big train. I walk through a compartment that has tiny private rooms with bench seats inside.

The lights on the ceiling barely flicker, giving the whole place color. They give it life. The walls and doors of the private rooms are cherry wood framed in brass. Four rooms line the compartment on each side of the small aisle. Half the rooms are hidden behind the curtains hanging in their doors.

When I step down the hall, the view through the room to my left is clear. It’s full of bags and suitcases. They seem to be waiting for someone to come back for them. There’s a silver thermos sitting in a cupholder. Money crumpled on an armrest. A brown coat spread across the white leather seats.

There’s a sign hanging on the door handle: ‘do not disturb.’ It’s written in green marker on regular lined notebook paper, and hooked over the door handle with a hairband.

The aisle is thin and claustrophobic. My shoulders brush the walls and doors I walk past.

Everything seems so normal. There are smears of blood here or there, on a door handle, on a window, or spread in tiny, dripping droplets across the wall. The floor is cream-colored carpet, with green shapes printed on it: squares, triangles, circles, squiggly lines and stars. The doors are closed. They have brass handles. There’s barely any blood on anything. It feels safe.

Halfway through the train car, I pass one of the doorways and it opens. Fingers reach for my shoulder. I jump away, but not fast enough. Something crashes into my back and throws me down the aisle.

I struggle against the floor, the arms of undead wrapped around my waist. I hear a click, a door creaking open, then tired groaning. Two more zombies shuffle through a door a meter away.

I twist and spin and fight, but the thing lying on top of me doesn’t want to let go. I have to yank on its hair to keep its teeth away from my back. I feel the sharp chin digging in while it tries to worm closer.

“Get the fuck off me!”

I admit, I panic. What am I supposed to do? I push us up with one arm and throw myself backwards. We crash against a door, rattling the whole frame. I slide along the wall, trying to get away, but the thing hangs on. It fights to get a bite of my stitched up skin, and the others are already falling on top of it.

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The pile is heavy enough to drag me to my knees. Those things don’t fight each other, but they don’t help each other either. That saves me. The two that newcomers pull on the one that’s grabbed me, as if it’s a rope, or a hook. They try to reel me in. The zombie’s arms pull tight and it groans. I feel a strain, a strange pain in my stomach.

“Let! Go!”

I hold onto a brass doorknob until its claws tear away. Something else tears. A line of stitches wrapping around my stomach and gives out. Threads yank on my skin and stretch it.

I feel like I’m falling out of the bottom of my stomach. I see pale and pink and yellow intestines.

“Aaah! Aaaaaaaah!” I’m falling apart. I’m coming apart at the seams! My legs slide to the zombies.

I crawl after the half of my body they’ve dragged away. I can still feel my legs. They kick and wriggle. Claws dig into them. I feel teeth bite. I pull the first zombie’s head by the hair and hit it as hard as I can.

After a few punches the nose crunches. It gives up gnawing on my thigh to scream at me. It’s gums are dark, and teeth sharpened. It’s eyes are covered in a milky film, and yellow gunk gathers at their edges. Black blood leaks from nose and lips and ears. Its skin is pale and cold, with dark veins hiding underneath.

My fist crashes through its screaming mouth. I hit it a few more times, then grab my waist and drag it to me. My legs slide a little, under that pile of bodies. But the other two zombies crawl closer. They grab a leg each.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I smack my hands to the tops of their heads, turning and twisting them.

They can’t stop their necks bending, and they try to move their bodies to follow, but it’s too little too late. Krck! I jerk their heads to the side, and they stop moving. The skin of their necks bunch and warp like wrung out towels. I see bone poking the skin, stretching it tight. Only their jaws work while they stare at the ceiling. Their pale eyes roll in their sockets.

The last one, the one whose jaw I broke, rubs its face on my knee, trying to get a bite.

“Just get off of me… haaaa…” I sigh. Relief rolls through me as my insides spill back up like magic, and my waist reattaches. That thing still tries to eat me with its broken mouth. “Ha… ha! Hahaha! Hahahahahaa!” I lose control and throw my head back. The stitches cinch tight. I barely notice, laughing so hard. I fall on my side and cry.

After a while, I remember I have to move. I have something to do. The last zombie is rubbing its face into the back of my knee like a dog digging in a bowl. I grab its head with both hands. Krck! And I break its neck.

I stand slowly, steady myself against one of the cabins and start to walk. I stop. I’m naked. Ass hangin’ out, dick swingin’ around naked. That thing… could have done some damage. I need to fix this.

I’ve been awake an hour now, at least. A lot of that was spent slinking through a few dark compartments, sitting in silence, feeling empty.

Since I woke, the closest thing to a heartbeat I’ve felt is the rhythm of the train on its tracks.

I’ve gotten nowhere. Gotten no answers. And I can’t stand this feeling in my chest. I need to fix this. Just…

T-tm, t-tm, t-tm…

“Where do I even begin?”