The Moaning Wall

“For crimes committed against the commune, the court and god himself, you are to be sentenced for the remainder of your moving life to the Moaning Wall!” cried the judge, whose black robes billowed around him with the strong wind.

The sentenced girl shrieked and began kicking against the two guards who were pinning her arms to her side. As tears streamed down her face the guards dragged her to the nearby execution block and placed the throat restraint over her neck. As they stood up to move away one of the guards pushed a basket in front of the now kneeling girls face.

“Bring the creature out!” and with the command three more guards appeared holding long metal bars fused to an iron collar around a long since undead man. They pushed the moaning creature toward the now hysterical girl and forced its face onto one of the girls outstretched arms. The creature bit down hard, tearing flesh away. Immediately it was pulled back and dragged by the three guards back to the tunnel from which it had emerged.

The judge, hoisted an axe, whispered a brief prayer for the girl and brought the thick heavy blade down on the girls exposed neck.

Thirty minutes later, neck bolted to the Wall, her eyes opened and as the wind whipped along the wall and through her exposed neck her soft moans melded with the hundreds of other heads pinned there, a constant reminder that any sin committed was considered a sin against the commune.

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One Response to The Moaning Wall

  1. Matt says:

    That punishment is ridiculously harsh and painful. While I like the idea of the moving wall, I can’t say I condone such treatment of zombies and people. It reminds me of the movie Land of the Dead, specifically the part in which two zombies are released in a cage with a woman for the sole purpose of gambling on which zombie would deliver the fateful bite. Zombies are not good for anything but being destroyed, and call this the bleeding humanitarian in me, but living people should never be forced into zombiism.

    I’m also reminded of an idea I had, one of a great zombie-hunter who lived in a mansion and lined his front walk with the severed heads of zombies, each sitting atop a tall spike. Their faces would move and their eyes follow whoever walked up to the mansion, but they would be harmless undead heads, chomping their teeth at the guests.

    Despite my grievances with the fictionalized world, this story was another great one. You never cease to amaze me.

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