Again, I own nothing to do with Twilight.

Wow, the response I received was amazing. Thank you all! Glad to see you have a bit of a soft spot of zombieward. I quite like him too, even though there is a darkness that lurks within. Trying to see Rob pattinson as a zombie in my mind while I write, is kind of odd. Haha.

But hoping you enjoy this one, you've inspired me, thank you!

Chapter Two

He was waiting for me right after I finished my day's worth of school. It frightened me, at first. But then I think I just automatically believed he wasn't here to cause me any harm.

"Wow," I laughed, feeling a bit breathless at how good he looked when he was cleaned up right. I almost laughed hysterically loud at the way he was dressed. He looked as if he had just come straight from church, or a funeral, in his best glad-rags; A nice charcoal grey suit jacket, with a button-up dark blue dress shirt underneath, and matching pants. He was even wearing polished shiny, dark brown loafers. There was not a single trace of blood on him whatsoever; He almost looked as if he was a normal young, human man. Aside from the translucent, fair purple-tinged skin, which we couldn't do much about, I suppose.

"Is it too much?" he asked, in surprisingly normal way. His hand slid down the side of his dressy trousers self-consciously. "I don't have many clothes on me. This is what I was wearing before I was... different."

"No, it isn't." Was it odd I found him dashing for a zombie? "You look... good."

"Oh." He looked very pleased by my approval. "As do you. Then again, most flesh looks wonderful to me."

I cringed at the odd remark. If we were going to become something close to friends, he was really going to have to cut that out, before he frightened me away officially.

He stared at me in dead-silence, and I guess neither one of us knew just what to do or what to even say, no less, to end the silence and make it seem less awkward.

"Maybe going for a walk wouldn't be so bad," I suggested helpfully. I plopped my school bag down onto the porch.

"Oh, yes indeed. It's a very lovely afternoon." Slowly, he reached his hand out and held it towards me. A bit hesitantly, I accepted, and slid my hand through his. I stepped carefully down the porch steps onto the grass, and his grasp tightened. His skin was hard and cold and smooth as he held it between us while we started with our walk. I tried my very hardest to forget that, and pretended we were just two utterly normal people, much the same, walking together. "Did you attend your school?"

"I did."

"Is school something that you enjoy?" It felt strange talking about school with him, of all things. But it eased me that we had something to talk about.

"Sometimes, I guess."

Somehow my answer confused him, and he paused for a moment, standing still. "Sometimes?"

I pursed my lips, trying to find a way to explain it.

"Sometimes, I enjoy going to school. Other times, I don't. It's when people tease me, which is most of the time, that I wish I could be halfway across the world and not even bother about going to school."

"Tease you?"

"Yes. Sometimes I get bullied. People call me terrible names that hurt me."

"Yes, people do that to me, also."

I turned to look at him, stunned. "People bully you?"

"People call me hurtful things, and sometimes they throw rocks and sticks at me. Sometimes they kick me, and scream real loudly in my face. Mostly, they run. Noticing them running from me, it makes me incredibly angry."

I think I could understand completely why people ran from him. It didn't sound very nice to say, though.

"Half the time, I simply want to talk but the others cannot understand that," he went on, continuing his rant. "I suppose with what I am, there comes a price. But I am not like all the others. Just like you flesh people, you get good, and occasionally, you get bad."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "So, you're saying... there are more of you?" That unsettled me quite a lot.

"Yes, there are a lot more of us. Just like the first human on earth, when God planted Adam and Eve, he also planted the first zombie hybrid. Naturally, evolution takes its course, and we expand in numbers."

"Are there just more of you in America?"

He laughed. "Are there only humans existing in the United States?" he said sarcastically, perfectly illustrating his point.

"Oh, right. Of course."

"There are plenty more of us living in Australia, but they're not as evolved as some of us are here. You don't hear of it much here on the television, but there is a reason why so many back-packers go missing. There is a reason why people mysteriously vanish. Our kind are behind it, but the world just doesn't know it yet."

That sounded foreboding. I felt a shudder ripple down my spine. So, basically he was explaining, half the reason why people go missing without a trace, was because zombies were behind it?

He squeezed my hand in a very reassuring way, perhaps sensing my unease. We started walking again, Edward leading the way. Loose bits of rocks crackled underneath our shoes.

"How do you think you came about?" I asked. "Do you remember anything of who you were... before you became what you are?"

"Some things," he said, shrugging casually. He kept his eyes to the ground, while we strolled on. "I remember I was attending a funeral. My mother's, in fact. One moment, I was saying my prayers and, in the next instance, we were raided. My entire family, and all of the towns men in attendance that morning."

I reached out and patted the back of his hand. "Oh, I'm sorry."

He sniffled loudly. Then tossed his head to the side, over-looking my apology. "I cannot remember much after that. But the people who raided us, they were not just any flesh. There were rumours spread across town, legends of flesh-eaters that existed in our parts of the land. We never put much stock into the legends, though. We assumed it was purely nonsense and fables. I suppose they were true, after all." He looked behind his shoulder at me and smiled. I almost shivered visibly. "In all things considered, I am just pleased my mother was dead before it all began. I believe the worst part, would be seeing my family as monstrous, decaying reproductions of themselves. I'm grateful it was me, and not them."

"I can't even imagine how hard it must be," I sighed sadly.

"And you wouldn't want to realistically," he murmured quietly. Everything was so depressing. But he squeezed my hand again, and I found almost instantly, my dismal mood evaporated the tiniest bit, just at a mere hand embrace from him. "I suppose my own fate could have been altered, if I had let it. Only, I was far too stubborn. I fought against dying, so hard. I hadn't realized then just what it was creating me into. I hadn't equated that with a flesh-eaters wound, a virus would spread and infect my body."

I was holding my breath, haunted by his retellings.

"Part of the people in attendance weren't strong enough, nor stubborn enough, to fight. Some went down instantly. A small few managed to flee outside the door."

"And you?" I think I already knew, though.

"I was young, I worked a life as a farmer with my father. I suppose the hard work paid off." He spoke it almost wistful, like it was something he reflected on often. "I could afford to fight, I had the strength. But one got to me, and bit me. Right here." He brought my hand up to his neck, and pulled down the collar of his shirt so that I could see for myself. Oddly enough, there was a dried-up welt on his skin. He let me slide the tips of my fingers over the scar, and it felt hard and creased against his cool skin. "I still fought, even then. I hadn't known it was only causing the virus to spread by the day." I ran my thumb over the scar again, and he trembled all the way down his spine. "I managed to flee, but I grew weaker and weaker, as the days grew on. And then soon, as I was resting in the barn that we kept all our pigs in, I blacked out. Everything went dark, but as I awoke again, I felt odd. Different, inside. Something in me had been altered."

It was horrifying, hearing him talk about it so casually, like he was merely talking to me about nothing more than the state of the weather.

"And then, the dreadful hunger settled in." He turned to glance back at me to make sure I was still fully invested in his story. And he could see I truly was. The way he said 'hunger' make me shiver. "I lost myself due to it. But then again, I think we all do. Others aren't as in touch with their feelings and emotions, as I am. Some of us lose ourselves completely and let the hunger for flesh overtake us. It is quite easy to do- it is natural to us, after all."

There was no denying, I was getting the creeps. But I tried to ignore it for the sake of attempting to understand him. Obviously, not many people gave him the time of day, and he deserved it. He was pleasant enough, and you shouldn't unfairly judge a book by its cover. "So, you've fought against the hunger?"

"I didn't that day. I went absolutely insane," he admitted, a look of sheer guilt crossing over his pasty face. "We definitely lose sight of ourselves, in horrifying ways. With my father, we took immense pride in looking after our farm crops, and the animals. That day, it didn't even register, when I awoke. I destroyed all our hard work. I went on a frenzy. First, I ate the pigs. Then I went after the cows." He laughed at that, a sort of guilty, astonished one. "Not even three large cows and four pigs could quell the hunger I felt, due to the virus. I soon learned flesh was what we normally gravitate to; Human flesh sustains us for a lot longer, though we are particularly known for over-indulging."

"Have you killed many?" I asked, after a moment of hesitation. For some reason, I was dying to know. Even though my head was screaming against it. It was only bound to horrify me.

"That day, I did. My father had a close friend, a farm-hand who assisted us in the crops. I went scattering on after him, and I slaughtered him. It the first time it occurred to me I must have looked appalling and frightful to flesh-people, because his reaction to me was so powerful. He kept on screaming and running. Then he grabbed a rake that we often used for the crops and attempted to stab me with it."

He stopped walking, and turned around to look at me fully. There was a hard, amused glint in his peculiar eyes.

"As you can see, I won. We cannot be taken down easily."

There was still something I didn't know. Something I was unsure of, such as why he decided to spare me last night. He could have easily given into the hunger, killed me, ate my flesh, and no one would have probably even noticed, aside from my father, when he realized I hadn't returned home. Soon, there would be missing incident reports on me filled out. But eventually, everyone would forgotten. I would have been just another unfortunate, speculated tragedy.

"Then why didn't you just kill me last night while you had the chance?" He looked downright shocked at my asking.

"Oh, no," he said, disgusted. "There would be no death for you. Only you rising from the earth, and roaming the lands at my side."

"But why?" I whispered desperately. "Why wouldn't you just kill me?"

"And is that what you would like for yourself?" he asked, surprised. "You have plenty to live for. Your time hasn't come yet. Soon, you will get married to a decent man, and your life will unfold. Death isn't something a person generally asks for."

"Then perhaps I'm not like other people," I replied thoughtlessly. I had certainly thought about it before. Ending things. When the bullying at school got too much to deal with.

"Honestly, this is sad," he said, sounding very outraged. He let go of my hand, and stepped away.

"What is?"

"Seeing you like this. A young girl like yourself, with plenty to live for. This is wrong. Death isn't something you should see as an option, at least not so young."

"You're young, and you're dead. Maybe not the dead I'm talking about, but still."

"Yes, but I..." He looked so shaken by the conversation. "I have been the walking dead for very nearly over eighty years. A girl your age should not be talking like this. You have a lot to live for."

"Sometimes, it doesn't feel that way, though," I admitted honestly. He turned somewhat distracted then. He was fixated on my hair, for some reason beyond me. "Sometimes I feel there isn't any options out there for me. I'm undecided about what I ought to do with my life, once school is over. That's if I even do live past all the bullying and taunts. It just... tears me down."

As if it was the most normal thing, he raised his hand and ran his fingers curiously through the ends of my long hair. It was completely unexpected.

"You shouldn't talk like this." He lifted a handful of my hair, bent down, and put his nose an inch near it. He seemed truly fascinated, like he hadn't seen or felt hair before. It was oddly funny. "How could you speak of such a thing?"

I lifted my hand and touched the tip of his hair, since him touching me seemed quite fine and appropriate. His hair felt different. Wiry. Not real.

"It never grows," he said quietly. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. "It stays the same, always. If I cut it all off, it will never grow back. My hair is limp, and dead. Just as the rest of me. But yours." He bent down and took in another deep, appreciate whiff. "It grows. It shines. Very beautiful."

I could almost feel myself blushing. "Thank you," I said, smiling softly. How odd was the tender moment I was sharing with a zombie.

"Do flesh at your school make you feel this way?"

"Beautiful?" I laughed out in confusion. "No. I'm a freak to them. A shy, awkward freak."

"No." He inhaled in the scent of my hair again. "Downtrodden? Unsure over your future?"

"Yes. I think that's mainly it."

"I could eat them," he said darkly, rubbing his fingers into the texture of my hair. "I could eat them all. I could kill an entire nation for you." And yet, why was that idea so appealing to me? The sweetness of revenge? "I could make them suffer and bleed a long and painful death over treating you this way." I realized a moment later, that he was being completely serious. And that frightened me.

"No," I said vehemently, after getting my bearings straight. "Definitely not."

"May I have my kiss now? I have waited all day." And then, he turned his lips into mine, and kissed me. His hands went behind my shoulders, his palms pressing down roughly, pulling me in, pulling my body flush against his. It was too suffocating, too tight, the seal of his lips over mine. An urgent moan tore through the back of his throat, a strange snarling rippled through the center of his chest, and he was shaking all over. It occurred to me than that he was struggling, fighting against biting me. And he could have easily done it within a heartbeat.

Perhaps sensing my distress, he tore his mouth away and walked a few feet from me. His back was facing me, his shoulders slumped forward. I could see by the trembling of his shoulder blades that he was frightened. "Good heavens," I heard him cry out. "That wasn't very smart. The hunger screams for flesh, but the lower hunger below... it cries for other sacred unions."

I tried to scan my memory for any movies where the zombie falls in love with the human, or attempts to kiss her. Then, I realized, it never happened in any zombie movie I had ever seen. I think that was enough reason to know it couldn't be possible.

Hope you enjoyed this one? Is it too crazy? Haha.

Please review and let me know your thoughts. See you next update! :-) x