Pyriel giggled as she heard a rustle emanate from the far side of the room. She had been listening to the giant refrigeration units monotonous hum for hours. Now the wait was over. Asmodeus had arrived and the night was beckoning. Waiting to be filled with excitement and new adventures.

‘Arrgh, I hate these bloody plastic things,’ she heard a male voice shout.

Smiling broadly, Pyriel let out a low, ‘Marco.’ Followed by a giggle.

‘Stop messing around,’ Asmodeus ordered. ‘I’m not playing Marco — Polo tonight.’ After a pause he added: ‘After the day I’ve had, I need a drink.’

Pyriel sat up, letting the thick plastic sheet slide off her naked body.

Her eyes did not need to adjust to the crepuscular lighting, nor did the torrents of ice-cold air being pumped into the room bother her.

‘Oh, you’re in a mood tonight.’ She continued to watch as he walked among the gurneys, lifting each cover in turn to get a better look at the body.

‘Why’re you still looking? What’s wrong with the body you’re in now?’ Pyriel asked.

Without looking at her, Asmodeus pointed at his chest. ‘Cause this one has already been autopsied. You know they leak when we go drinking.’

Pyriel titled her head to one side. ‘Shhh, I think somebody’s coming,’ she whispered. ‘Quick, before we get caught again.’

At the same moment, Pyriel heard several metallic clicks. The giant freezer door swung open with a hiss as the vacuum seal released. A red haired, pimply faced young man wearing a white lab coat, and a young woman, dressed from head to toe in black, walked in. With a dull click the fluorescent ceiling lights sparked into life, bathing the refrigerated room in a clinical, cool white glow.

'And here we have the pièces de résistance of my tour,’ the youngster announced as he stepped confidently into the freezer. In a spooky sounding voice, he added: ‘The dead.’

Pyriel recognised the young man as Karl, one of the junior morgue technicians.

Hey, what are you doing here so late? And who is she? Pyriel wondered. With growing interest, she watched the young woman bite her lower lip as her face and eyes lit up like roman candles. She was abnormally pale, and her thick, black eyeliner and dark make-up extenuated her dark eyes. Her trembling lips too were painted black.

Smiling inwardly. Pyriel thought about the many macabre jokes she had seen the technicians play on eager new doctors which had joined the hospital’s intern rotation program. The walking dead zombie prank was her favourite.

Hugging herself tightly, the young woman continued to explore the macabre offerings of the room. Smiling broadly, with sparkling eyes, her head swung around.

'Can I touch one?' she asked in an ethereal voice.

'Hmm, I’m not sure. I would already be in a lot of trouble if anybody found out that I let you in here,' young Karl replied.

Pyriel knew that to be true, but it had never stopped his peers before.

'Oh please.' The young woman stepped up closer to the technician. She stared up at him with puppy dog eyes and pursed lips. Maintaining eye contact, she placed her hand on his chest, letting it glide down into his pants while she added in a husky voice, ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

Pyriel held in a giggle as Karl swallowed hard. 'Umm, I guess it would be alright. But nothing freaky.'

'I promise. Cross my heart.' Cocking her head to one side, the young lady smiled seductively at Karl. She fluttered her eyelids and crossed her chest with her index finger.

'OK, which one?' Karl asked.

'That one,’ she said, pointing toward a gurney from which a hairy arm hung visible.

'OK.’ Smiling broadly, Karl whipped away the sheet.

***

Mary felt her heart pound in her throat as she looked down at the body of a man in his mid-thirties. He appeared all round average, apart from being hairier than her uncle Bob who used to block the shower trap every time he came to visit. A shy giggle escaped her quivering lips as she stepped forward on wobbly knees. Everything around her seemed to shrink into insignificance as her gaze fixated on the body. Even the cold.

I’m about to touch my first dead body. Her thoughts raced as her eyes darted across the body, searching for a patch of bare skin. Why’s he so hairy? Ah, the ankle. Perfect. With a shy smile she glanced at Karl who gave her an encouraging nod. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. This is it. She opened her eyes and touched the man's ankle with her fingertips.

His skin felt cold, rubbery. Mary jerked her hand back and giggled nervously. Beaming like a little girl who’s just been given a pony, she peeked at Karl who was watching her with an intense smile.

‘It feels eerie, and yet I have butterflies.’ Giggling shyly, she returned her attention to the body.

Feeling more confident, she reached out again. This time encircling the man’s ankle with her long fingers. She stared down at her hand as it were an astral projection of itself as she let it glide up the shin, over the knee and toward the thigh. His hair felt ticklish under her fingers and palm. With her heart palpitating like a jackhammer, she let her hand continue to drift up the man's thigh, over his hip bone and onto his stomach. A euphoric storm of emotions filled her entire body as her hand come to rest on his chest.

Still relishing the tsunami of enraptured feelings that filled her body, her head shot around as a loud clunking sound startled her.

Still in a trance like state, her eyes met Karl’s wide and bulging ones. Standing as if to attention, his ashen complexion had turned the colour of pasty sour cream. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. Looking closer, she noticed his quivering lips emitting short bursts of vaporous steam as his chest heaved erratically.

Before she had a chance to say anything, she noticed a slim hand on young Karl’s shoulder. Her gaze followed the hand to a wrist, forearm, upper arm, collarbone and finally to a head where her eyes locked with a pair of milky blue ones, staring back at her from the dark, sunken in eye sockets of a woman's face.

Stumbling back, she reached out to the gurney to steady herself as her knees buckled beneath her. The corpse continued to stare, unmoving with an emotionless expression and dead panned eyes.

Having recovered from her initial fright, Mary had a visceral revelation. I’m not afraid. Excited, yes, but not afraid.

Deciding not to dwell on why, she felt herself smiling faintly as she noticed young Karl’s fearful, tortured expression as little flurries escaped his gasping mouth.

The absence of fear made her curious. This body had an ashen, bluish complexion. Her skin blemished, covered in small, sore like dots. The man's body looked fresh compared to her. Chuckling to herself, she wondered if dead bodies had an expiration date.

***

Having noticed Mary’s probing, non-frightened glances, Karl managed to enkindle the courage to speak.

'Um— ah, is— ah, Mary, is there a hand on my shoulder?'

'Yes, there is,’ came her candid reply.

Stuttering, his voice shaky, Karl continued. 'Do you think I should turn around?’

'Judging by your face with only a hand on your shoulder— I would say no.'

'In your opinion, if I turned around, would I be frightened?'

'I’d put money on that fact.'

'May I ask why you aren’t scared?'

She shrugged.

'I suppose I’m not the one who has a zombie standing behind me with her hand on my shoulder.'

Karl voice shot up several octaves as he asked: 'It's a woman Zombie? Are you sure?’

'Um, judging by the boobs— yes, I’m quite sure.'

'What does she want?'

'Why’re you asking me?'

'Because I don't want to turn around.’ Karl’s petrified eyes darted about. ‘What do you think we should do?’

'I suggest YOU close your eyes and walk forward to me. Then we both run to the door and don’t look back?'

Karl nodded, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before taking a giant stride forward. Mary, seeming amused, stood watching as Karl felt the woman’s hand brush down his back.

'Why’d you stop?'

'I have no idea. Is she still there?'

'Yup.'

'What’s she doing?'

'Staring— and maybe smiling— not sure though.'

'Do you think I could turn around now?'

'Definitely not.'

'Why?'

'Because another one has just risen. A man.'

***

An insidious smile passed Mary’s lips as Karl turned four shades paler and swallowed hard. Yes, he may die a virgin and the newspaper headlines may read something like: “Eaten—” no, too calm, “Ravaged to death by the undead,” she thought, chuckling to herself. At least he’ll die famous.

'What’s he doing?'

'Smiling. Definitely smiling.'

'Are you saying that these zombies have a sense of humour?'

Cocking her head to one side, Mary gave Karl an irksome glare.

'Karl, I have no idea. But right now I’m a little freaked out but seriously turned on. I suggest you stop asking stupid questions and get the hell out of here, with me, or I’m leaving without you. Then you can ask them all the questions you want until they get bored and start eating you. Your choice.'

***

Things had never been clearer in Karl's mind. He had seen that lascivious sparkle in Mary’s eyes. There was only one course of action in his mind. I’m going to escape, then I’m going to have sex for the first time, with a girl. Who cares if they don’t believe the zombie story ‘cause they’re definitely not gonna believe I had sex anyway. No, today is my day and no friggin’ zombie is gonna stand in my way.

Karl, resolute and steadfast, stepped forward purposefully and grabbed Mary by the arm. She turned as he dragged her, with unwavering determination, toward the door when it happened.

Karl turned around.

Gasping he felt the image before him scorch itself deep into his memory.

His gaze met those of two naked corpses. Standing side-by-side, they were holding hands. Both were staring at him with devilish grins, their free arms raised, waving in unison.

Karl closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief

I’m dreaming, this must be a dream. Zombies aren’t real. Shit, if this is a dream then Mary is also a dream. That means I’ll never have sex.

With his mind still racing, but more determined than ever, Karl opened his eyes. The image remained. Letting out a deep sigh, he closed the freezer door to the accompaniment of raucous laughter from within.