Now It's Time for: Zombie Chef

[Stare]

Stare looked doubtful.

"I have no idea," she murmured, backing up as far as she could go, without compromising the door. In her mind the idea of going back to that pantry of fleshy offcuts was not constitutional to a genuine attempt at moving onwards and getting the hell out of this place.

A gargling zombie, eyes rolled back into his head lumbered by them, making a long, low moan. Stare watched as he stretched a flailing arm in front of him and it hit the swing door. There was a screech of hinges and the door opened, allowing him in, but then it hit back at a rate he had not been expecting. The arm itself was hit and cast backward as he continued on his way. For a moment it flopped harmlessly on the floor before a great growl came from the massive fleshy beast in the centre. A great sniff sounded from a series of pig-like noses extruding from the side, and a long arm lashed out to snap it up.

Stare pressed herself all the more to the wall perpendicular to the doors, and breathed in tight. Though she had her hand stuffed with candle and dagger she still felt a great sinking feeling as she examined the morality of the fat sack of meat and little skin. It was so ugly she could have been sick, and in fact actually considered it, thinking of the circumstances. Certainly distasteful. Certainly not attractive.

Who so would ever create a thing?

It's aura was a pulsating sable nightmare, almost every chakra was dim. That meant it was a terrifying chaotic beast with no morals and little emotion - or if they were, they were bad. Especially it's hunger. It seemed starved, it's root chakra so dull it could be said to not be there at all.

"We need an explosive," Stare murmured. "Like a ... an Aleran fire cracker. Those. What we need to get it inside it ... I don't think it would take much to persuade it to eat."

She eyed up a zombie lugging his way towards them.

"Not much at all."