CASE FILE: #611357-LX (classified)
On the night of August 30-31, 1955, a meteorite crashed into the center of Shady Lawn Cemetery; radiation from the meteorite caused the re-animation of several freshly buried corpses, thus inaugurating the first of the so-called "zombie apocalypse" epidemics that have decimated various communities ever since...
Although it was hushed up, one of the more prominent victims of the 1955 outbreak was Lolita Xavier, an up-and-coming Hollywood starlet/pin-up model; a vivacious redhead with stunning face and curves, she happened to be driving home from a day at the beach, passing near Shady Lawn when the zombies came shambling forth on their first mindless quest for living flesh--from evidence gathered much later at the scene, Miss Xavier must have accidentally run down one of the ghouls as it staggered out onto the road seconds before her Lincoln Continental came zooming around a curve. Naturally, she stopped and got out of the car to see if her victim was alive--only to receive a vicious bite in the hip. In shock and disoriented, Lolita Xavier managed to drive into the nearest town, where she expired from the highly septic bite at the local clinic. Her corpse re-animated a few hours later, and Lolita became the most glamorous zombie in the ensuing invasion of the living dead; her voluptuous good looks and natural grace rendered the undead femme fatale even more dangerous--several hapless men fell victim to her macabre beauty.
Reluctant to shoot her in the head, they hesitated until she got close enough to slaughter and devour them...even when the militia arrived to put down the plague of ghouls, Lolita's zombie was spared by Dr. Oliver Sneiderman, the pathologist sent in with the troops to examine the bodies. He insisted on capturing a few "live" specimens, and Lolita was his top choice. She was lured into a van, locked inside, and taken to a government laboratory for tests; while the other subjects were dissected, undead Lolita was kept as a sort of mascot by Sneiderman and his assistants, much to the misgivings of the officers in charge of the facility. Sneiderman was eventually ordered to terminate her, but he froze Lolita instead, insisting that one of the original plague victims needed to be preserved in case of future outbreaks.
The cryogenic casket containing Lolita Xavier was eventually transferred to Area 51, where it remained forgotten...until...
"Yeah, my grandpa worked out there," boasted Hank Freed over his fifth beer at the Frosty Mug Tavern; "He managed to sneak a few things out just before he retired! Swore the whole family to secrecy, and turned the basement of his house into a freaky museum...house belongs to me, now--and his collection is still down there..."
"No more for you, Hank! Get on home," the bartender chuckled, removing the half-drained mug from Hank's reach; Freed snorted, paid up, and weaved out of the bar with a friend who dropped him off at his home.
"Aaahh, nobody has any 'magination anymore," Hank mumbled to himself as he went inside; he thought about going to bed, but curiosity nagged at him. Since his grandfather's passing seven years earlier, Hank had been down in the basement several times, examining the collection of bizarre and alarming artifacts that the old man had somehow managed to smuggle out of Area 51--but there were a few boxes left unopened, among them a tall metal cabinet that remained plugged into the wall socket at all times. Hank had no idea what it was exactly--all he knew was that it took up quite a percentage of his monthly utility bill, and that it gave him a vague but deeply creepy sense of unease whenever he looked at it.
"Hell with it," Hank now scolded himself--fueled by Dutch courage, he determined to open it at last! He unlocked the door to the basement, switched on the light, and staggered down the steps.
"No more juice for you, Mister Alien," he cackled, yanking the cord-plug out of the wall; "National Enquirer is calling...they'll pay me a fortune for th' photos!"
Grasping a crowbar, Hank Freed attacked the cabinet with inebriated determination, but it still took over an hour before at last he heard a cracking noise, followed by the hiss and the mist of dry ice vapors as he managed to pry open the heremetically sealed container. Holding his breath, Hank swung the door open, and peered inside.
At first, Hank Freed felt a slap of disappointment--this was no alien, just a human body! But as his beer-goggled eyes focused on the shapely figure, auburn hair and exquisitely molded face of the cadaver, he let out a prurient whistle.
"Grand-dad, you dog! Never figured you was a Necro," he laughed. "Damn! Got to get my camera, nobody's gonna believe this!"
Hank staggered upstairs, reeled into his bedroom in search of his Nikon, collapsed across his bed and passed out, as it was already two in the morning.
It was well past dawn when Frank finally re-entered the world of the living; bleary-eyed and hungover, he lurched into his kitchen for coffee, having completely forgotten his actions of the previous night..."Ohhh, my head," he groaned, and came face-to-face with Lolita Xavier, who promptly tore his right arm off.
Clad in a yellow polka-dot bikini which clashed slightly with her blue-gray complexion, Lolita X wandered out of Hank Freed's house, gnawing on his severed arm, blithely oblivious to the panic she was about to cause in the pleasant suburban cul-de-sac! Freed's next-door neighbors, the Derwoods, were tending their front lawn when the shapely revenant appeared, munching loudly on Hank's pinkie finger: "ABNER! ABNER!! ABNER!!!" screamed Gladys Derwood, frantically gesticulating--her husband's back was to the fence and the zombie girl.
Abner Derwood sighed. "What is it this time, Gladys?" he asked, long accustomed to his highly-strung spouse's episodes; drawn by Mrs. Derwood's screeching, Lolita X approached the fence, still snacking on the severed arm of Hank Freed--who was staggering out of his house, dying from shock and loss of blood. He fell face-down in his driveway, and Gladys fainted away at the same instant; Abner Derwood went to his wife's aid, and so never set eyes on Lolita, who turned and wandered across the street, her attention caught by the vintage cherry-red 1957 Ford Fairlane parked in front of Eddy Haskell's split-level pad.
"OOOOH," Lolita X cooed, opening the passenger door and sliding into the back seat; it is almost impossible to try and guess what goes on in the brain of a walking corpse. Most ghoulologists maintain that only the cerebral cortex is active in a zombie, the basic reptile brain which propels the zombie to seek flesh--but others theorize that vestigal memories remain accessible from the creatures' former lives. Certainly Miss Xavier had appreciated fine cars (having posed for photos in and on several automobiles in the 50's), and Haskell's vintage Ford was from her time, so it may be inferred from this that Zombie Lolita felt at home in the car.
In the meantime, Abner Derwood finally noticed his neighbor lying dead and bloody in the drive; he called 911, and soon the wail of an ambulence echoed in Romero Place. The commotion brought Eddy Haskell out a few minutes earlier than he'd planned--the middle-aged corporate lawyer was dressed for a round of golf with his buddies. He watched with mild interest as Freed's body was bundled into the back of the ambulence, then shrugged and got into his car; "Phew! What's that smell?" Ed grimaced, and hung up a fresh pine tree on his rear-view mirror. Lolita was lying down in the back seat, contentedly stripping flesh and sinews off the arm, but Ed's stereo system drowned out the crunching sounds. Lolita X smiled as "Hey Mister Bass Man" began to play, and she hummed along as Haskell drove off to the country club...where all Hell would soon break loose.
Eddy Haskell parked his car and strolled into the club-house--incredible as it may seem, the self-absorbed fool never noticed the presence of a zombie girl in his backseat! Lolita in the meantime had stripped Hank Freed's arm to the bone, so a few minutes later she too emerged from the vehicle and wandered dreamily around the club-house and onto the green, in search of human flesh!
Meanwhile, Eddy and his three buddies were coming out onto the green; "Say, who's the new girl? She could do with a tan," one of them leered, spotting Lolita X sauntering vaguely across the rolling lawn.
"I don't know, but she needs to move her pasty-white ass," Haskell snorted. "MISS! EXCUSE ME? COULD YOU MOVE, PLEASE?" he shouted, waving his club in the air. Lolita turned and came slowly towards them; unusual for a revenant, Lolita's gait was by no means as lurching and jerky as that of your average zombie, so until she was almost upon them, Ed and his friends were unaware that this was no ordinary young woman--they watched her walk toward them, admiring her freakishly pale but shapely form.
"The tennis courts are over there, if you're looking for a place to sunbathe," one man remarked, speaking to her breasts rather than her face--Eddy and the other two, at last realizing that there was something uncanny and deeply abnormal about this interloper, tried to warn him, but Lolita lunged forward and bit the unfortunate fellow in the face! Eddy swung his club, striking Lolita across the head--she reeled and pounced, and Eddy Haskell's scream was cut short in a bloody frothing gurgle as her teeth opened his throat. His other friends grabbed the first man ( whose nose and part of his cheek were hanging from his face) and ran screaming for the safety of the club-house as Lolita X knelt down to make a messy brunch of her erstwhile chauffeur.
TO BE CONTINUED...?