What Happened When Frank Died: Zombies


Frank died.

Years passed. The end times got around to themselves.

A hand burst out of the ground. It was Franks hand. He groaned. He emerged from the grave, rife with dirt and maggots. He wanted to brush himself off, but only walked.

He walked slow. It gave him time to think. His first thought in many years was, “buildings have gotten tall.”

And they had.

Frank found himself drawn to a group of others. They were equally dirty, equally empty-eyed; one actually had no eyes. Frank shuddered. They walked on, like an elderly gang, toward the tall buildings. Frank tried to remember who Frank was. It hurt, the part of his brain that was Frank had been mostly replaced with a family of spiders. Someone jostled him on the left. He turned to tell the man to watch where he was going.

“Guhhhh!” he accused the man.

“Flehhh!” the man apologized. Frank accepted it. They walked on. Frank heard screaming. Something in him was pleased, almost turned on. He, of course, was not turned on; he left his genitalia back in the coffin. But the feeling persisted anyways.

The rest of the gang seemed to share the sentiment. They all turned towards the screams. Frank, being a bit older to begin with, lagged behind. Soon, he found himself alone, wandering the streets, groaning. He felt no pain. The part of his brain that felt pain was sitting on his left shoulder, caught in his collar.

So, he meandered. Somewhere, something burned. Frank saw it. He tried to smell it, but his nose had left him back with the herd. This sucks, Frank thought, heading for the flames, unsure of why. A figure sat beside a bin, roasting something on a stick.

Frank approached it. The figure turned. It was a man. His face went into a panic. He began brandishing his food at Frank. Frank felt hungry. The food, that turned out to be a rat, flew from the stick. It hit Frank in the chest. Frank looked at the man.

“That was rude,” he tried to say, but instead said “Merrrrhhh”

The man ran at Frank, stick aflame, raised. It plunged into Frank’s chest. Frank looked down at it, up at the man. Then, before he could stop himself he bit the man, right on the neck. The man, face full of shock, fell.

Oh, shit, Frank thought. He bent down over the man, holding him. He tried to say sorry, over and over, but instead found himself taking more and more bites.

The man went still. Frank stood up.

“Oh god, oh god!” Frank tried to say. But, his mouth was full.

In a panic he tried to run, yet only limped, on off down the road, slowly catching on fire.


*For more What Happened When Frank Died, click here


  1. The world of the blog stream seems to be predicated on collecting ‘likes’ and warm affirming comments. So would it be OK this time if I said that this one I didn’t like. Now I can get on with my day and wait for tomorrow’s post. It’s like when you stay in bed all day with a hangover and look forward to getting up tomorrow to go visit a friend.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Haha I don’t mind at all. I don’t expect all my work to hit home with people. I’m actually a little worried I’m running out of ideas for Frank stories. And I started this whole thing to get better so when something doesn’t work it is beneficial for me to hear it. Thank you. Ill see what I can work up for tomorrow.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Do you mind if I bug you for a little more criticism. I value your opinion a lot and I want to know where I went wrong. Was it the plot or the writing or the flow? I really want to keep the frank series going but I want to keep it good.


      • No it wasn’t the flow, or the writing. I think you’ve got a hold on that. Many of your posts are ridiculously funny and certainly exemplify the whole “Willing suspension of disbelief” but it is just me. I think the ‘zombie’ concept is so unbelievable it just doesn’t work. I’m happy if Frank wanders around as a ghost and interferes in peoples lives but don’t turn him into a zombie. That’s just a personal thing. You keep going as you are and don’t let me change you.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Fair enough. Thank you for the feedback. I stayed away from zombie frank for a long time because zombies aren’t really my thing. But I wrote a different frank today then just couldn’t get it right. So I wrote this to give the other story time to sit in my head.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Just read through it. You are much too kind. I am currently drinking canned gin and tonics trapped on an island in St. Petersburg. When I get home tomorrow I will give those a read. I can see from the titles I’ve read a few of them already. I am looking forward to it.


      • Man after my own heart. Unfortunately the sketchy store we found didn’t have any whisky. Or as most whisky bottles in russia say: “whisky flavored alcohol”


    • No worries. The idea behind Frank is to try every conceivable idea of what might happen after death. So zombie was on my list.
      Oh, if there is a particular religion you know of with an interesting afterlife I could research, that would be great. And thank you. There is no need apologize for not liking something. It helps me to hear it.


  2. Not much of a one for zombie stories, so can’t say I think this is one of your best. And I started this whole thing to get better so when something doesn’t work it is beneficial for me to hear it.


  3. Just read through it. And I started this whole thing to get better so when something doesn’t work it is beneficial for me to hear it.


  4. Earlier today while driving my way to the grocery store, I passed by a cemetery. I suddenly (and funnily) thought about zombies and what if my mom who passed away five years ago becomes one. I began wishing that I wouldn’t see her roaming around–and then–I started to feel sad.

    Liked by 1 person

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