Late in 2012 I decided I was going to make a Zombie Easter Bunny. I’d already had visions of said bunny, which means I needed to get him made, so new monsters could appear, that’s how it works, if it gets too full in there, things go…awry…
Most of the work I do is custom work, someone messages me asking, “Can you make ______?”, the answer is most always yes. Then we start talking specifics, or I get a picture to work from, and that is how it usually works. Only recently have I been making a few spawn that ha been making a bunch of noise in my head…if I make them, there’s more room for more ideas. But no one had asked me for one, so I needed to have a reason to make one…yea, I know, weird, but anyway, I decided on a contest. I’d had a bunch of new folks like the page since the beginning of the year, and I hit 1000 and then surpassed it, so a contest seemed in order. The contest that I had done for New Year 2012 went really well: I asked folks to give me a suggestion of what creature/monster/character they’d like to see me make. I used a random generator to pick winners, but I wanted to see what characters folks would maybe be interested in , wanted to see what kinds of things folks would say, and most of all, I wanted to have conversations with the people who stopped by to say they liked my work. I wanted to talk to some people who see my posts on their facebook newsfeeds every day. The response was awesome! And I wanted that kind of interaction again.
I had employed my friend T’s brain to help me come up with a contest and started a bunny head, but hadn’t come up with anything until the morning I was going to announce a winner. Somehow, as I’m looking at my Zombie Easter Bunny, I realized I hadn’t heard/read enough stories in my lifetime about them, and, well, that could change. I asked for folks to write me a story about a Zombie Easter Bunny, it could be how he came about, what he does now that he’s a zombie, what he likes to eat… just write me a story, and I’ll pick the winner…… Which might have been easy, had there only been a couple, or if they weren’t so FANTASTIC!!! Once he was done, I realized I might just have to create a second prize, I’d had nearly 20 submissions by then. So then I made a wee Zombunny, and wrote my own story.
How There Came To Be Another Zombunny…
” One day while I was making the Zombunny, the weather started to get really nice, and I thought I’d take my dogs to the park and work on Zombunny. I got leashes, a small bag of yarn and things I needed, and set out for the park–there are 3 within a few minutes walking distance from the house, and the dogs love to run around and smell stuff.
We got to the park, and I found a nice shady spot to set up, so I let the dogs off leash and sat down with Zombunny. I had JUST finished his legs and foot, and was starting to work on his arms, I was so nearly done with him, and getting very excited. I’d just started his left arm, when Buster, my chihuahua, barked a couple times. It’s not unheard of for him to bark, he barks when he’s playing or when he wants something…or when he’s on alert… But we’d just gotten to the park, so I ignored it. I just finished Zombunny’s left paw, when I realized that I DIDN’T hear my dogs…and THAT could be a problem. I set Zombunny and his yarn down, and went to find the dogs…
“Buster, Penny Crane! Penny Crane COME!” We’ve had Penny longer, and she is usually more obedient. I yelled for them one more time before spotting them…they’d found someone’s tossed container of fries on the ground and were gorging themselves…I ran over and picked it up and threw the last bitlets in the trash, grumbling about naughty dogs who were going to get less food for dinner… Dogs, heads down, tails betwixt their legs, followed behind me all the way back, and sat down patiently, waiting for me to be in a better mood, maybe they’d get to play ball.
I sat down next to my stuff, and put my hand where I’d left Zombunny, but he wasn’t there. I looked down, thinking I’d tossed him farther than I thought when I went to find the dogs, but he wasn’t in my stuff… where was he? “Shit,” I thought, “maybe the yarn was wrapped round my ankle or foot when I went after the dogs,” and I started looking for the ball of yarn he was attached to. I found it! A couple feet from my bag, the ball of yarn was sitting near a bunch of bushes. I picked it up, hoping that he wasn’t too dirty, but found only a very frayed end…ZOMBUNNY WAS NOT ATTACHED TO THE YARN!!!
Not sure exactly what to do, but not wanting to start over, I called Penny Crane…she has a good nose. I put the yarn under her nose, rubbed it all over her face, and gave the command, “Find it!” We usually use that for her ball, but it might work here… She put her nose on the ground, picked up her head and sniffed the air, AND TOOK OFF! She ran a lot faster than usual…like when she’s running after something “alive.” She stopped and pointed, when I got to where she was still standing, whining, I gave her big love, and told her “Leave it.” She whined, but I threw her favorite rubber ball, so she was happy to go get it…Buster hung out with me, but I wasn’t too worried about him. He WAS barking at the bushes, so I leaned in to investigate. Right in the middle of some ivy was Zombunny, with bits of twig and leaves in his yarn. I picked him up, looking at the short end of yarn that was frayed at the end, still attached to his body where I’d already sewed it, but a few of his stitches had come out. I looked around, and decided that a squirrel had probably come down when I went after the dogs, and thought him neat. Upon closer inspection, there was a bit more red in his yarn than there had been, and some on his teeth…weird. The ivy where Zombunny moved, and I wondered if the squirrel who took him maybe got tied up in some yarn, or hurt itself on the exposed wire armature. I carefully, and quietly, moved some of the ivy leaves around, reached in, and pulled out a wee baby bunny. It was VERY TINY, probably a couple days old only, and shaking. I sat down on the ground, holding the bunny carefully, inspecting it to make sure it was ok, but all I could find was a small wound on it shoulder, probably from being so new in the world… I decided to take it home, clean it up, and let it go in the morning. I gathered up the dogs and my stuff and the bunny, and walked home. I gave the dogs a treat, and put the bunny in my cat carrier, in the garage, away from noise and craziness. It would be safe and warm in there while I straightened a bit and started dinner.
After dinner I went out to the garage to get the carrier. I put it on my work table, which happened to be where Zombunny was, and opened the carrier. Ever so slowly, out walked a wee zombunny, I KNOW those eyes, and it sidled up to big Zombunny and nuzzled him… It was all my fault, I knew the dangers of taking out one of my creations before we’d had “the talk,” and now there were TWO zombunnies… NOW, I tell you this story, so that you know that usually, I do what I can to keep things from going awry. But also so that you know that sometimes, things get out of control, I DO make monsters… so, just to be on the safe side, if you’re going outside, maybe, JUST MAYBE, you might want to leave the spawn inside…for safety (of the world’s) sake.”
And now, as I said I would, because I am so thrilled that somehow 29 folks were inspired to write me a story, I’m putting them on my blog, so maybe a few extra people get to read them. I love each and every one of them!
BE AWARE, SOME OF THESE STORIES HAVE VERY ADULT CONTENT, INCLUDING GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD AND GORE, AND PROFANITY! NOT WORKPLACE OR CHILD APPROVED!!!
But it is only on Easter eve that they are able to come out, having but one night a year to infect people and children. All a zombunnie has to do is lick a person or child, and on Easter every year thereafter, the child will try to ruin Easter for every person around them destroying their faith in Easter altogether. No one is safe from the zombunnies!
So next Easter eve, stay inside.. Because its not the Easter bunny coming to bring you eggs!!! It’s zombunnies!!!!
Santa Claus wasn’t the nice old guy who crept down the chimney and delivered presents to all the boys and girls, rather he was the fat bastard who broke into your home on Christmas Eve, bundled the children into his sack and took them to his icy home to slowly eat over the coming year.
The tooth fairy wasn’t a little flitting sparkly fairy that exchanged baby teeth for pennies but rather a small hairy dwarf with breath like a dogs arse that breathed onto his helpless victims
to render them paralysed and slowly and methodically extracted the victims teeth one by one with a hammer and chisel…if they were lucky he stopped at the teeth and didn’t move on to fingernails…
This leads us to the star of this macabre little story; the Easter Bunny, now tradition dictates he’s a happy little fellow very much like our jolly Santa Claus carrying sweets and coloured eggs
in his basket to children’s homes…how far this strays from the truth! And now it shall now be known to all;
The Easter Bunny hops along all bloody and grey, his little chick minions follow along in his wake, he selects his victim – a home with some little sprogs inside…he lays out bright coloured painted eggs in the garden for the hunt and lies in wait.
The child skips through the garden all happy and gay, with a little wicker basket to carry their treasures inside. Much to the child’s delight they spy a bright colour in a nearby bush, its just out of reach so they get down on hands and knees arm out-stretched, fingers groping for the prize, as their chubby little fingers close around the brightly painted egg the bunny pounces all gnashing yellow teeth and dirty sharp claws…in the blink of an eye or before you can say ‘Jack Rabbit’ the child’s eyeballs are out,
popped straight out into the bunnies basket, their screams echo as the blood gushes out…
The bunny, like a ghost disappears away into the undergrowth to gnaw on the eyeballs until the next victim comes along…
“NEVER” you all shout, “that’s not how the story goes!”, well do you want to know the biggest conspiracy of them all??? The government called this Zombie Bunny Infection Myxomatosis so nobody would ever know…
Hoppin’ down the Zombie trail!
He is up to his old grizzly tricks. Instead of hiding eggs, he is lying in wait. Ready to pounce on unsuspecting victims. The little ones in their Sunday best and spring dresses, with little baskets in tow.
Little Sally says, “I think I see a red egg hiding under this lawn-mower.”
“Reach under there and get it” , says Johnny.
As Sally reaches under the mower it comes roaring to life, peppering the front yard with flesh and bone. As Sally lets go a blood curdling scream, Zombie Bunny gathers up the pretty little treats that litter the yard. The red, red kroovey. Then, while Johnny stares in utter disbelief, Zombie Bunny goes, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy and latches ahold of Johnnies neck and rips his throat out with one bite from his razor sharp buck teeth. As John lies gurgling on his own blood, Zombie Bunny gets down to business, feasting on Johnnies heart.
It’s not the best job in the universe but it’s mine. Somewhere along the line, by those that have seen me and tried not to forget, I became fluffy and cute. Those bastards! I am NOT! My gift I hide under floor boards and the protect you. You are not supposed to find them! Leave them in place!! If they are not there my world will invade you. And nothing will be safe…
You humans confound me, your puny brains live in oblivion and cannot handle the truth. Which is why I w
Do what I do.. So go on, pretend your world is safe and there are no monsters under your bed..
Every year there are accidents, say a floor board is pulled and my gift is removed by an over zealous mother cleaning her sons room. And now that boy is open to what ever his brain let’s in.. He could be snatched by an acient evil, or let the darkness in to his brain and become one of us with human skin.. So tread lightly dear humans.. And never remove one of my gifts…
That night, as the whole family was in bed, Snowball heard some strange sounds outside the cage and, on closer examination, saw his lady rabbit friend busying herself gnawing at the bars of his cage. He also noticed that there was an odd look about her he hadn’t seen before and a strange putrid pong emanating from her body. Her teeth also seemed to have turned an unhealthy brown and read colour and bits of her fur had dropped off, leaving some sore patches all over her body.
Suddenly, Snowball started to experience a paralysing fear he had never felt before as an icy wind chilled his spine. Almost without warning, his lady-friend pulled the bars of the cage she’d been gnawing on and leaped on top of him, knocking him backwards. Before he had time to react to this
sudden attack, the lady-bunny gave him a long and loving kiss on his neck that made him feel relaxed and warm inside. But once again, just as he was beginning to enjoy the moment, he felt a sharp pain in the very place where he’d been kissed on his neck and when he looked at her, he noticed her teeth were now covered in blood: his blood! Almost immediately, as if realising how delicious he tasted, she launched for him again, this time taking a bite off his ear. Panicked stricken, Snowball bolted for the hole made by lady-bunny and ran upstairs to the safety of Zoe’s room, where he spent the rest of the night, cuddling up to her on her bed, as they’d often done before.
In the morning, Zoe’s screams could be heard all over the house as she found poor Snowball’s lifeless body lying next to her in a pool of blood. Extremely distressed, she ran all over the house looking for her parents, who were busy in the garden tending to their flowers and shrubs in the Easter sunshine (remember this is not in England). Crying hysterically, she explained best she could in between sobs what had happened to her beloved Snowball and how her bed was covered in his blood. Confused and totally stunned, her parents ran upstairs to find the mangled body still on the bed.
They quickly decided that the best thing to do would be to bury Snowball without delay in the garden border, amongst their flowers and shrubs. That done, they did their best to calm Zoe and promised they would try and find out what had happened to him.
Late that night, Snowball’s lady-friend came back to Zoe’s parents’ garden and, following the scent of his dead friend, made her way to his grave. With unusual strength and speed, she quickly unearthed the still body and dragged him out of his resting place. She kissed him on the neck once more and within second Snowball’s eyes began to flicker and he started breathing again, filling his lady-friend’s heart with joy.
Deciding they were hungry, they set off to look for food in the house. There, they first found Penny, the Persian cat, sleeping soundly in her basket and they both launched themselves at her. Penny tried to defend herself from this fierce attack, but they rabbits together were much too strong for her and quickly succumbed to their ravenous hunger.
At all this, the usually peaceful and gentle Larry, woke up with a start and, seeing what was happening, started barking frantically and leapt to his friend’s rescue. But his bigger size was no match for the maddening hunger of the rabbits and he too fell foul of their feeding frenzy.
In hearing this commotion and Larry’s barks and cries of agony, Zoe and her parents rushed downstairs, only to be greeting by the gruesome scene of
their treasured pets turned to pieces. Before having the time to react, Snowball jumped on Zoe and took a deep bite on her neck. At the same time, his lady-friend leapt for Zoe’s mum and fiercely clawed at her face, before sinking her strong fangs on her neck too. Zoe’s father, overtaken by terror, stood paralysed on the spot before gaining his composure and rushing to his wife’s help. He grabbed her attacker by her long ears and flung her to the far end of the room, taking his loyal companion into his arms. But it was too late and the damaged was done. Zoe’s mum’s eyes turned a fearful yellow at the same time that she smiled and kissed her husband before reaching for his neck with her newly grown fangs.
While this was happening, Snowball jumped from Zoe’s body and ran to check on his lady-friend. Finding her bruised but well, they ran out of the house, into the garden, under the hedge and into the neighbour’s yard. There, she led him to a hole near the place where they had first met the day before and crawled under ground into the safety of their would-be love nest. After a few weeks, to Snowball’s delight, they found out that she was in the family way…
in his hole down below a dark bunny heart beats,
thump thump thumpity thump
in the dark, beneath a tree stump.
The children wait patiently for him to come,
but dear old bunny has had enough of this fun.
Off he hops into the dusky night haze,
the village lamps are drawing his weary eyed gaze.
From house to house with his basket growing heavy
the laughter gone.. the srceaming steady
then the silence, his work all done,
back off he hops his happiness won.
tipping the basket he counts up the heads
then dips them in chocolate and strings them on threads
His eyes rolling white, fur dreanched in blood
NOW bunny has found something better instead
to do once a year to make himself happy
For poor old bunny is slightly deranged
these years of giving have made him insane
SO beware the hop hop hopping and cute little face
as he’s after your head cause he so loves the taste
Limbs fly as Zbunny decimates the disapointments and mistakes, the failed pinch and pull tactics. Screaming in unchocolified terror they run. Zbunny, with rabbitfuck speed, gnaws through limbs and crunches bone. Able to leap over mid sized dirtbags and de-spine potential escapees in a single bound, Zbunny makes quick work of these future societal drains. Bone fragment, fleshy lumps and partial limbs are flung with reckless abandon throughout the yard. Sun dries blood to a dark pastel upon the grass…The sandbox has turned to mud with parts and blood…a torso twitches.. Bunny ears perk….missed victim? Hopes rise, hunger stirs…twitching stops… Zbunny loses interest. Zbunny hop wobbles to the next back yard. Zbunny don’t give a shit. Zbunny starts to slay….
Elizabeth, the 9year old daughter of Mandj It was a day perfect for decorating Easter Eggs, thought the Easter Bunny. He was happily decorating Easter Eggs when one of them hatched with the most horrid looking chick, He stared at this ugly beast and found out it looked like it should be dead with its unblinking eyes. It had one leg! The Easter Bunny asked “Are you hungry little bird?” He reached down to touch it when it bit him. That made the Easter Bunny angry so he shooed it away. The bite wasn’t healing. It was actually getting worse! The Easter Bunny woke up feeling hungry but not for carrot juice, for blood. “Snap out of it,” he told himself, but the words came out “BLEEEEG.” Something was wrong. His hair was falling out. His wife screamed when she saw him. He went outside to decorate Easter Eggs, but they just turned out all wrong, like random scribbles. He went back inside and bit his wife. She instantly turned into some monster. “AHHHH” he screamed. He must have been poisoned with monster spray from the Halloween Gremlin. Indeed it was one of his tricks, to send a zombie chick to bite the Easter Bunny so he could have his holiday twice. You see, the Halloween Gremlin is very selfish. “i will drown him,” said the new and improved bunny. So he found a portal to Halloween and left Easter behind. He took his wife too. With bucket in hand, he went along his way. His skin got stuck on branches but it didn’t hurt him, even though he was walking through thorn bushes. He finally got there and poured water on the sleeping Halloween Gremlin. The Gremlin screamed in agony. After the smoke cleared there was no Gremlin, so the Easter Bunny Zombie stayed a zombie and he bites people who are naughty. That is why, to this day, everyone evil or not gets a chick in their baskets for Easter.
Ken S. It was a sad day when the nice old farmer was forced to sell his land to developers. After moving to a new field by the stream,bunny noticed the carrots were bitter. Unaware that the land was tainted by toxic waste, bunny slowly withererd away only to awake one day with a new found strength and hunger. A Hunger for brains ! All you cottontails watch you back Zombunny’s on his way ! ” A tisket a tasket beware Zombunny’s basket !
Ellen H. Once upon a time there lived a very cute bunny rabbit in a beautiful forest. It was a bunny rabbit as you might see in very sweet dreams. He had very nicely shaped ears, a fluffy tail, soft feet that could rattle the ground when he was excited, a nice pinkish white fur, a lovely little, sniffly nose and very large, dark brown eyes which could look at you as the Puss in Boots from Shrek. He didn’t live on his own in the forest, no, his whole family was with him. They all lived in holes in the ground where they watched television. Especially the cartoons with one Bugs Bunny were a favourite off all the bunny rabbits in this particular family. For there were more families of rabbits living in the forest. So they also were not alone.
All had heard of the special bunny, called the Easter Bunny. But they hadn’t seen him for real, not ever. None of them had. Really, never! They knew what he was responsible for: getting all the eggs painted and put in baskets and the ones that couldn’t be put in the baskets anymore had to be hidden for the children of the world to go and looking for them and find them and eat them (if they weren’t too old). These tasks had to be done each year at approximately the same time of the year, but always before Easter. That’s why they called him the Easter Bunny. He had done this for eons.
Though, one night it was announced on the television that the Easter Bunny was getting old and tired and that he was stepping down. The tasks for that year and all following years had to be done by a new Easter Bunny. This new Easter Bunny had to be elected by 100 bunnies, put together in a large hole in the ground, especially made for this occasion. These 100 bunnies were to be chosen by a raffle. All bunnies above a certain age could join in the raffle. So, our bunny rabbit entered the raffle and, guess what: he could join the congregation!
His family was very pleased about that and were very proud of him. They all wished him good luck and wisdom and waved him goodbye when he left for the holy hole in the ground. The other 99 rabbits went with him. They had to be alone, the 100 of them and so there was no television or any other ways of communication with them until they selected the One. Every day there would be enough carrots and water sent down in case they were getting hungry or thirsty.
But one bunny (not our one) had got hold of a tiny kind of television on which you could play games too. He was quickly bored and played his game, while the other bunnies were talking about the qualities the new Easter Bunny should have. Each time they voted, all notes on which the name of the possible new One would be written, were burned in a special oven with a chimney stack that reached outside, above ground. The other rabbits would then be able to see whether the new One was chosen or nit. If so, the smoke from the chimney would be chocolate brown, if not, it would be pink.
The one bunny that rather played the video game, had put on a new game, The Raving Rabbids, his favourite. And, as it happens, also the favourite game of our cute bunny with his fluffy tail and his sweet eyes. SO our sweet guy went over to the gaming one. Of course the other bunnies had looked at him and put up their noses, but he went on playing his games. Our bunny asked if he could join, ‘cause it was his fav game too. At that moment, a thunderbolt struck down through the chimney stack, right into the game console. It went in with an enormous flash and was followed by an extremely loud bang!
What exactly occurred, nobody knows for sure, but the Raving Rabbids left the gaming console and took our sweet bunny with them. His fur was scarred because he was standing so close to the gaming console. He was unconscious too. The Rabbids took him along in their shopping cart and put him in the toilet. They flushed him, eyewitnesses told later. Why they done that, nobody knows. Perhaps they thought he was rubbish now, or dead…
Well, we do know that because of the flushing something snapped in his brain. He was found in an alley, a week or so later. A little girl living there, found him and took him home. He didn’t look like a real fluffy bunny anymore. He was not white anymore, but chocolate brown, his tail was bleeding as were his paws and he gnarled. The little girl loved him, though, for he was her only friend and she called him the Easter Zombunny, for it was the first day of Easter as she found him. Next to an empty egg.
What happened to the other 99 bunnies in the holy hole? When the big bang was heard, the bunnies above ground went to the hole and saw red smoke coming out of the chimney. They didn’t know what that meant, so they went inside. Of the 99 other bunnies not one was ever heard or seen again, though some fur was found.
Oh, and the burned game console was found too.
The Easter Bunny was out on a spree
Hiding his eggs all around
“It’s Easter tomorrow” he shouted with glee
“There’ll be plenty of chocs to be found”
He suddenly slipped and fell in some goo
And was up to his ears in muck
He started to sink right into the poo
“Oh help me, I’m terribly stuck” (he’s English, can you tell)
Then out of the woods came a wee Critter’s voice
“Oh dear, you are in a mess
Give me your paw, cause you have no choice”
And Easter B cried “Oh yes.”
So he stretched out his paw towards the Critter
And something grabbed him tight
His mouth filled up with something bitter
And gave him such a fright
Before he could blink or say a word
His eyes came to rest on the ground
There was blood and guts and lemon curd
And body parts all around.
“Now you are mineeeeeeeee” laughed the Critter with lust
And he dived at the Easter B’s neck
He sank in his fangs with an almighty thrust
But then suddenly fell to the deck.
With a twitch of his nose and a flash of his eyes
Easter Bunny grabbed hold of the Crit
“You can not fool me with your stupid disguise
You really are such a twit”.
“I’m Vamp Easter Bunny the master of blood
I’ve been dead for a thoooooussand years
But I come back each year and get stuck in this mud
And make Critters like you disappear”
So next time you think about hunting for eggs
At Easter, remember this tale
That cute little bunny that hops on four legs
Might just be your coffin nail.
Linda K. Here comes zombie cotton tail hoping down the bunny trail. Brains I need brains!! Chocolate I need chocolate! Chocolate brains I need chocolate brains!! Hippty Hop Hippty Hop he went.
Zombie cotton tail used to be a mild manner rabbit. He used to hop down the trail looking for clover. He would occasionly run across people. He always loved Easter time when people would idolize him. They had visions of him delivering eggs and chocolate. It was a special time for him. He loved all the attention.
That all changed one afernoon. It was an extra gloomy day out. The bunny trail seemed full of creepy critters. They were walking around in a dead stopper eating brains off of anything they could find alive. He tried hippty hopping away but one giant of woman snatched him and took a bite out of his ears. He was no chocolate bunny why did she bite my ears he thought. The next thing he knew he could smell her chocolatey bloody breath again! CRUNCH! She bit right into his brain. He started bleeding but the weird thing was it turned to chocolate!! Things got all fuzzy and he passed out.
So no more hippty hopping down the bunny trail searching for clover. Brains is his new menu!! He needs brains! He needs his chocolate brains!! He craves chocolate brains when there is none around!! He is one zombie cotton tail!!
Becky E. “Rotten Eggs”
Most people wonder what happens to all of the cute little pet store guinea pigs, rats, and bunnies once they have become too old to appeal to the children who have finally convinced their weary parents to get them a small pet. Well, they are actually sent back to the breeder, who may use them for breeding stock. More often than not, these wayward critters are dispatched and frozen to be sold as snake food. Eggs the bunny was one such unfortunate bunny. He came to the pet store when he was quite young, his eyes twinkling and his coat a glossy chocolate brown. With Easter being a month away, he had plenty of time to be chosen. Unfortunately, his bunny brethren were also competing for their own spot in someone’s Easter basket. There were dozens of others, some fat, some thin like Eggs, some fluffy angoras with cotton candy tufts on their ears and tails, lionheads with funny manes that had not yet fully grown in, and all manner of colors and patterns. Next to them, Eggs looked rather plain. Easter came and went, and still he waited. Over the next few weeks, the rest of the rabbits found homes. Meanwhile, Eggs was turning into a lanky, scruffy rabbit, an impossible mix of the most awkward traits of the breeds. Realizing he would not be chosen, he became depressed and stopped eating. His fur became matted and eventually fell out in clumps, giving him a mangy, grizzled appearance. He no longer looked at the children who came into the store, knowing they would recoil in horror when they saw his wretched visage. Instead he stared into the dark corner of his cage on the top shelf of the small animal room, gradually losing his sight.
Eventually a year had passed and the store manager tired of feeding and caring for a rabbit that no one would ever buy. Although he did not particularly like the prospect, he sent Eggs back to the breeder where he was born. The journey was long and frightening, full of strange noises and bumping around. Blind, Eggs was unable to sense where he was or what was happening. He curled up and tried to sleep for the rest of the unpleasant ride.
When he reached the breeder, the truck stopped with a jolt. Because of a horrible draft, he now had a cold. His eyes and nose ran with mucous, and he had a cough. When the breeder plucked him from the cage, she held Eggs at arm’s length, wrinkling up her nose with disgust. “What a foul one this is. I’m not sure I’d even feed this one to a snake.” She shook her head and tossed him back in the cage, skinning his muzzle in the process. Eggs lay sprawled out on his side where he fell. He no longer had the will to right himself, even though this was the first time he had ever felt warm sun on his patchy fur. He had enjoyed being held by the breeder even though she had scruffed him savagely. Rejected again, he laid still and waited for death. Even when the breeder moved his cage to the back porch, he did not struggle to keep himself from bounding around the cage, receiving more scrapes in the process. The breeder merely muttered to herself about his pitiful state and went into the house.
The next morning, Eggs felt a change. He no longer felt the weight of suffering upon him. Instead, he felt very little at all. Even when he wrinkled his wiggly rabbit nose, he could not tell what his whiskers were touching. More surprisingly, he had regained some sense of vision. His eyes glowed a soft yellow, his scabby ears perking up as he heard the sound of the door. It was the breeder, an elderly, meaty woman. Under one arm she carried a red Easter basket, brimming with marshmallow treats, jelly beans, and eggs. When she saw him, she gasped, dropping the basket to the ground as she backed through the still open door, slamming and locking it behind her. Eggs sniffed the Easter treats carefully. They smelled more tempting than any bit of mealy apple or stale timothy grass he was ever offered at the pet store. Cautiously tasting a chocolate bunny that looked very similar to how he once was, he found it was delicious. Surely there were others who would like to try something so fantastic, he sprung the latch on his cage and let himself out. He nudged the treats back into the basket and loaded it onto his large, suddenly strong back and started down the game trail wild rabbits had traversed for so many years. As he shared his treats with sleeping children, sure an awake child would be repulsed by him, Eggs felt his rankled heart beat with joy simply because he knew that he had finally made Easter happy for the children of the world.
Once upon a time there was a young girl who lived in a drab, colorless village at the edge of a vast forest. Her name was Nyrabi and she was a sad, lonely girl indeed. Her mother had died when she was just a tyke, and she didn’t have a friend in the world. All the horrible kids at school taunted her and teased her and said Nyrabi’s mother probably killed herself to get away from such an ugly, dumb daughter. Her father was too poor to afford all the nice toys and gadgets all the other kids had, so Nyrabi had nothing but sticks she found on the way home from school to play with. But what a world she created with her sticks! They were anything she wished them to be, just by waving them around and using her imagination. She created a world of friends, of ladybugs, characters she read in storybooks and mythology brought to life in by sheer will, anything her brain might conjure lived and breathed in those sticks. Of course, the rotten schoolmates teased about this as well; they broke her sticks very nearly every day and stuck sticky yellow notes on her back that said “spaz” and “broke ass” and “Jesus, heal this Stick Girl”, but Nyrabi always found new sticks on the pathway home.
Her father had recently married a blowzy, bleached bimbo who had an unnaturally large, round bosom and worked at the village tavern where all the women wore tiny, tight-fitting T-shirts with owls on them that had crazy huge orange eyes. The step-bimbo hated Nyrabi and constantly threaten to sell her for medical experiments whenever Father wasn’t around. One day, he came home with a surprise for Nyrabi: a soft, brown baby bunny. At last, she had a friend she could play with, tell all her secrets to, who didn’t call her names or make fun of her sticks. She called him Ziebom and she loved him with all her heart, and he loved her back. Except for when she was in school, they were inseparable.
One Friday, Nyrabi and Ziebom were playing in the weed-filled backyard. They heard the step-bimbo talking to someone with a deep voice that wasn’t Father. They crept around to the front of the house and saw the step-bimbo kissing a strange man. Nyrabi gasped.
The step-bimbo spied her and shrieked. “Are you spying on me, you little freak? I’m gonna rip out your hair and serve that long-eared rat for dinner if you don’t get out of here!”
Nyrabi glared at them, anger seizing up in her brain. “You’re only supposed to kiss Father. He’s not my father. I’m going to tell.”
The stranger moved towards her menacingly. “Who do you think you are, you little shit! I’ll cut out your tongue first!”
The step-bimbo sneered. “I’ve got this, lover. Hey, Stickbrain, it’s almost Easter. Go into the woods. I’ve hidden a bunch of eggs out there and you have to go find them. Every one of them. If you come back short,” she pointed a crooked finger at Ziebom, “then it’s hasenpfeffer incorporated for Sunday dinner!” She drew a finger across her own throat to punctuate her words.
Nyrabi stepped back, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t know what that means. Hasen what?”
“It means schlemiel!” bellowed the stranger. “Schlemazel! Get the fuck out of here and keep that mouth shut, or we’re gonna eat your bunny! And maybe take a bite out of you.” He lunged at her.
Nyrabi screamed and flung one of her sticks at him. It whipped through the air, end over end like a propeller and stuck right in the stranger’s eye, and he promptly shrieked in agony. At the same time, Ziebom raced over to the step-bimbo with rabbit speed and leapt into the air, buck teeth bared in fury. Step-bimbo was completely focused on the other two and she didn’t see him until he was nearly upon her, sinking his teeth into one of her perfectly unnatural round balls on her chest, causing an arc of blood and saline to spurt out on the porch. A strange sound erupted, almost as if somebody let go of an inflated balloon to go pffllpfflling through the air.
“Nooooo!!!!!” squealed the step-bimbo. “I paid nearly 5 grand for that!” She grabbed Ziebom by the ears and ripped him off her plastic chest. “It’s rabbit season,” she hissed and chomped down on his front foot. Ziebom let out a squeal of his own and used his powerful hind legs to kick off her and she let him go as she fell backward …. with his foot still in her mouth. He went racing back to Nyrabi, leaving a trail of blood on the wooden porch.
Nyrabi was backing away from the stranger, who was whirling in pain. “I’ll kill you, you little bitch!” He pulled the stick out and focused on her with his one good eye. He lunged at her again, only to have Ziebom race under his feet and trip him. He fell face down in the dirt with an “AUGH!!!!” and landed on a small, sharp rock, which stuck him in the shoulder.
“Let’s get out of here, Ziebom!” Nyrabi chirped and the two started fleeing for the forest.
“I’ll get you, my pretty!” cackled the step-bimbo. “And you’re paying for the replacement double D! And I’ve got a lucky rabbit’s foot now that’ll make sure I’ll get what I want!”
The stranger scrambled to his feet, scooping up the rock and a small cloud of dust. “You better be right with Jesus, you little whore!” he raged, and flung the rock as hard as he could.
Even with only one eye left, and still half-cocked, the evil stranger’s aim was true. The rock smashed into Nyrabi’s head, near her temple at the hairline. She saw stars, then a sheet of blood, but she kept running, keeping a grip on her sticks, following her beloved Ziebom and the bloody trail he left, and they ran and ran, hearing the shrieks behind them fading fast, until suddenly Nyrabi collapsed into darkness, an abyss even deeper than sleep.
When she awoke, she felt different. Thirsty. Hungry. For things she never dared to consume before. Her bunny was beside her, also stirring. He looked different, wilder, his brown fur matted with blood on his mouth, his cheek, his ear. She heard the gurgling of a stream and dragged herself to it, her thirst unbearable, but seeing the water made her realize that mere water couldn’t slake this thirst. Her own reflection gave her pause. She looked different too. Her brown hair was stringy, like strands of yarn, and her eyes were big and yellow, rimmed with red, just like her bunny’s were now, just like the owl’s eyes on the step-bimbo’s work shirts. She went to scoop up some water to her parched mouth and saw that the sticks she had carried were embedded into her palms, sticking out like fingers, her new fingers, her only fingers, as the others were now gone, apparently chewed away by forest critters while she slept the sleep of death. Her bunny’s side had been chewed away, leaving it exposed and bloody, like someone had put a spear into his ribs as if he were some ancient king who had been put out of his misery.
“I think we’ve slept for three whole days,” she whispered to her bunny. “I don’t want to sleep anymore.”
“No,” said the bunny softly. “No more sleep. Now we eat.”
They were back at the house, following their own bloody trails out of the forest. But the house was empty. They went into town and saw all the townspeople in the main square, out on the big lawn in front of the white clapboard church with the huge steeple. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best, so fine that each outfit must’ve cost 20 or 30 pieces of silver at least.
Her father, in his threadbare finest and scuffed up shoes, was the first to see her.
“My little girl! Nyrabi, you’ve come back! You’re alive! And your Ziebom’s with you too!” He beamed with joy and ran to her. Everyone turned to look. The step-bimbo was there, with a furious, sickened look on her face and her uneven chest heaved.
“We have risen!” declared the bunny. “She is no longer called Nyrabi. Now she is Brainy. I am Zombie. Today is our day of judgment. Over you.”
Father stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded. The murmuring crowd fell silent, jaws agape. At the edge of the group, next to a group of girls just young enough to get him arrested, stood the stranger, the first one to find his voice. “Did that fucking rabbit just talk?”
“Father,” Brainy whispered. “I’m so hungry. Why did you leave me alone with her?”
“What happened to your hands, Nyrabi?” he asked, flustered. “Are those your sticks?”
A child’s voice in the crowd giggled. “She really is a Stick Girl now!” Uneasy laughter arose.
She felt a lifetime of rage erupting in her. “My name is Brainy! My sticks will be my vengeance. My sticks will be your destruction. You will all pay now.”
Zombie bunny began to growl. The crowd grew noisier, emboldened by the taunting child’s amusement. “We are so hungry,” roared Zombie. “Now we will eat!”
“But honey,” began Father, but Brainy was on him like lightning. Her sticks plunged into his ears, then his eyes, waving around and spraying blood, and Brainy bit into his flesh. He fell to ground, looking like a wizened Count from some horror reverie from some 90 years ago.
Zombie flew towards the vile stranger, his missing foot not slowing him down a bit, and his sharp teeth ripped out his jugular, turning the green lawn to crimson. Brainy sprinted to the step-bimbo, who wore Zombie’s foot around her neck. “You’re not so lucky after all,” Brainy hissed before the whirl of her sticks split the bimbo’s skull in half, exposing her tiny, blackened brain which was crunched in Brainy’s teeth before the crowd could react.
One by one, Brainy and Zombie satiated their thirst and hunger with sticks and teeth, on every horrid school child who had been so very cruel, on the self-righteous parents of the evil, ill-mannered brats, on the pious reverend and the scornful shopkeepers, from the very young to the decrepit old, all the while Brainy’s sticks were whirling and clacking and recreating the torn, shredded flesh into something completely new. Gorgons with snaky hair. Winged apes with bad attitudes. Slender men with no faces. Chainsaw wielding maniacs wearing ties and leather aprons. Woodland animals with broad antlers. Double torsoed freaks. Bounty hunters from far, far away. Green curmudgeons with a passionate hatred for winter holidays. With every piece of new flesh in her teeth, with every liter of blood, Brainy’s mind went topsy-turvy wild, and her sticks created a new universe from pure imagination. All of them dead, then undead. All with wild yellow eyes, rimmed with red, all of them once enemies now enslaved like toys to their new creator.
“Happy Easter, Brainy,” smiled Zombie bunny through a mouthful of blood. “How do you like your new horde of friends?”
Brainy sat on the church steps, her sticks trying to clutch each other against her heart. All of her spawn sat on the lawn, watching her, waiting for her attention, her direction, anything to give them their new function as her playthings. Everything that had once been drab and gray in the village was now full of vibrant, unexpected colors, shocking, bold, metallic, an organic rainbow, shifting in the lightest spaces and the darkest shadows, with serpentine streaks of red over everything, like a kindly signature, a sanguinarian’s kiss.
“I love them all. We’ll never be lonely again, Zombie. Or hungry.” She beamed with peace and joy in her unbeating, cold heart.
“All hail your Messiah!” ordered Zombie, raising his stump. “Bow to your Queen of Queens! Let there be no doubt, she has returned to rule you all!”
The crowd of undead spawn murmured and muttered in affirmation. With nearly all of their throats ripped out, they weren’t the most vocal bunch.
Brainy held Zombie close to her, careful not to stab him with her sticks. “Life is good,” she sighed. “We have made good spawn. I love you, my Zombie. For always.”
And they all lived happily ever after. But especially Brainy and her Zombie bunny.