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 Zombie Days

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Rigby Dumbledore
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PostSubject: Zombie Days   Wed Jun 04 2008, 19:49

ZOMBIE DAYS


JK introduced us to Inferi, so we know all about them, but what about Zombies? The Inferi are mindless and retain nothing of their former selves. For the purpose of this class I would like you to write a history of a particular Zombie, who were they before they became a Zombie, how the change occured, and what they were like after the change. The story must be at least 450 words long, and the points will be up to 80. You will get out what you put in.

Extra Credit: Post a picture of an actor/actress that you think should play your Zombie in a movie and why they are right for the role. Up to 15 points for this.
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PostSubject: Re: Zombie Days   Sat Jun 14 2008, 21:36

Few case studies have been done on the zombie. While they may not be a particularly diverse creature, they are indeed an interesting specimen of life (or death, as the case may be).

Education on zombies has been severely lax in the last two or three centuries. Children know of them only as silly creatures easily overpowered by a simple Lumos spell Ė zombies being adverse to most forms of light Ė and therefore most knowledge of the zombie has been lost as the stories that were passed by word of mouth began to die out, coincidentally along with the growth of skepticism.

Therefore zombies are rarely sympathised with, and merely held in contempt. A great oversight of the hardships that zombies must face, and the threat they pose, this author can only hope that people do not cross paths with one Ė for when bitten by a zombie, as with a werewolf, the curse is irreversible. But unlike the werewolf, there is no reprieve for most of the month, no potion to stave off the violent nature of the zombie.

It is an affliction that never ceases, and you never return to your senses once lost.

Once such person who did not know the zombie in detail was William Pudmore. He was born in 1877, to a low-class Wizarding family, and like all the children of his generation, and the generation before him, the legend of the zombie was merely something that scared foolish Muggle children. Therefore, when he was infected with the curse, he did not recognise the symptoms. By the time he realised something was terribly wrong, it was far, far too late.

A young man of four-and-twenty years, William was a jack by trade. He had left his family at thirteen years of age, having fought with his father, and learnt to live and sustain himself with spells, jinxes and incantations (as well as an odd curse or six) that he picked up on his meandering. Mostly, however, he collected rare potions ingredients. In the late 1800ís and early 1900ís, there were few men willing to venture into the wilderness of Europe in search of what was needed, and therefore there was a great deal of money in the work. William, bred from bitterness and anger, living rough on the streets as it were, knew enough to get him by in such circumstances.

Up until 1901 Williamís life had been as you would expect Ė he did not venture into main cities often, mostly supporting himself on the income he could find in isolated, purely Wizarding towns. With so few needs the people of these towns catered, there was little for William to work for. With the increase in creature populations during the 1800ís and early 1900ís, the dangerous nature of the work that crossed into their territory was severely increased.

William, poor, downtrodden, embittered, and nursing a reckless nature bred of desperation and greed, saw this drought of trade as his chance. Potions Masters were offering great sums of money for the ingredients needed for their renovations of the potions art, and cared not for the methods, or character, that the people who would get these ingredients presented.

For two years William was successful. His mother had been a herbalist, and made minor potions and tinctures for those of lower class back where William had been born, and she had shared her knowledge with him on all things relevant to potions Ė herbs, roots, properties, how to recognise one thing from another. And this knowledge William employed in his work.

Late in his second year of potions trade, William ventured into one of the darker forests of Albania. There many ingredients on his current employerís list lay in wait, and William could almost hear the money he would receive for such a horde already clinking in his purse.

The night that the change occurred was dark, darker than usual because the moon was not in the night sky. William was following his nose alone, seeing by the minimal starlight. He did not want to cast a lighting spell, for light attracts most creatures of the night, and the darker the night, the easier to see the light.

Sources say that William was collecting a sample of rare purple-and-green polka dotted moss from the base of a great ancient tree when his alert ears heard a movement in the underbrush. When no sound immediately followed, William assumed it was a rodent, and continued with his work.

When he had collected all he could, and had stood up to turn around, he heard another noise; a moan.

Alerted to something in his vicinity, William put away the moss sample and gripped his wand in his hand. He knew a few spells to ward off the beasts of the night, but he knew that if it really came down to it, he was helpless.

The underbrush was disturbed once more, and William watched in fascinated horror as a human-shaped thing advanced on him.

Alone, unprotected, and with no knowledge of what he was seeing, William was frozen as the creature reached out his scabby, decaying arms toward him.

Williamís frightened mind thought that perhaps this was an apparition of delusion, a mere ghost.

As it moved out from under the leaves of the trees, and into a small spot of light, William felt his stomach turn ice cold with terror. It was truly gruesome.

It certainly didnít look as though it could be real, but with magic, you could never know. As it was, to him it looked like a dead body. Its clothes were torn, and filthy. Its epidermis was a mixture of yellow and black, bone showing through the thin membrane on the hands and face. Its mouth gaped, and William could see teeth missing and no tongue. It moved with jerky movements, as though it could not coordinate properly Ė had forgotten how to use its limbs.

But worst of all, as it finally placed its grimy hands on William, the man finally got a good look at its eyes Ė or rather, where they should have been.

Instead of the great, grey vacant eyes William had been expecting, there was nothing but two black hollows of horror. He could see small globs of goop still sitting in the empty sockets, and there was a terrible trail of dried black liquid running down from them. Its eyes had melted from its face.

Trying to breathe, William was overpowered by the stench of the thing. He felt dizzy, faint, puzzled. He could not think, could not move.

The thing bit him with a moan.

William remembered no more.

Of course, when he woke up, he could not immediately recall what had happened, why he was asleep on the forest floor in the middle of the day.

When he did remember, he panicked, and afraid that the thing was still there, ran.

It took him precious hours to realise that something was not right with his body. He felt tired, heavy. He could not think right, and kept staring at people, imagining what they would taste like. By the next morning, he saw that his skin had lost its colour Ė he was as pale as a vampire.

By that night, he couldnít see right. Within the next three hours, he knew that the thing had done something. Stumbling into a nearby house, he fell to his knees in front of the man who lived there, pleading mercy, begging for something, anything, but what he could not say.

The man was a priest, and William told him the whole story of what had happened. Of course, the man, being a Muggle, did not know that what William said had been fact and not the delusions of a sick man. By the time the Wizarding officials had arrived, notified by a disturbance that alerted the authorities, William had lost all sense of himself and was about to bite the man who had been so kind to him.

Of course, the infection does not afflict those without magical blood. The Muggle would merely have contracted a mild infection, but no other injury would have ailed him.

William, by now out of his mind and insensible to anything but his craving for human flesh, struggled and escaped the house. While two men went after him, the other one stayed, and learnt the tale that William had told the priest before losing his ability of speech.

What happened after then is unknown. William became a recluse zombie, listed in all Ministries in Europe, labelled dangerous and a target.

Of course, one could speculate. From what is still known of zombies, they never sleep, never drink. They are consumed by their need for human flesh, the only thing that is real to them. They feel no pain, are aware of no emotion, of anything but the flesh of a mortal, more specifically, a Witch or Wizard. Of course, they fear light. Why is not known, but the best defence against a zombie is to cast a strong Lumos and run. The only known way to kill one is to burn them, after severing their heads from their body.

So for poor William, we can only assume that he wanders the earth still, in a semi-decomposed state, unaware of anything but his hunger for flesh. Certainly, we hope that others will learn from his mistakes.


Word count: 1, 564.

My zombie would be played by Zack Efron. Why? Because who wouldn't want to see Zack as a zombie!?

Other than that... I believe in him. (*Cough*) I think, if he'd dye his hair black (William has black hair) and put on an air of a tragic past and whatnot, he'd do great. It'd be a great chance for him to break free (lol. a pun.) of his so far very predictable role of teenage boy who can sing blah blah. I'd like to see him being bad. I think he has it in him, and I want to see it.


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PostSubject: Re: Zombie Days   Mon Jun 30 2008, 21:01

ZOMBIE DAYS

This is the story of John Alfred Magger Malkin. Malkin used to be a very mean and unfriendly amn whom many had mated during the early years of his life. He was born in the United Staes right after his family had moved to here from Asia. At the time his parents were unhappy with they way of life there in Asia so they moved to the United States hoping for a better life. Here they were able to start from scratch and after a few years they were able to make a good sum of money. After living in the United States for almost five years they had their first and only son named John Alfred Magger Malkin. John being named after his father, Alfred from his motherís grandfather, Magger fom his motherís maiden name and Malkin was his fatherís last name. His parents tried to raise him to be a nice and caring child but at the gae of ten his parents died in a terrible horse carriage accident. He found out the news while he was still in school and was devastated. When he came home he found it to be empty and waited also six hours for his grandparents to come get him.

These grandparents were on his fatherís side and they had been living in the United States for almost twenty years now. They were the ones who had convinced Malkinís parents to move here in the first place. Malkin knew them very well for having to visit them every Sunday. His grandparents took him to their house ten miles away from his house and there he tried to adjust to living this new life without his parents. This he wasnít able to do too well. He spent most of his time alone to himself until he went off to college.

He went to college somewhere far from his grandparents home. He didnít want to stay too close because he was reminded too much of his parents which made him sad. During his first year at college he was the happiest he ever been and was able to let go of his past. He ran into the love of his life here whom he ended up marrying seven years later.

After being married for three years his wife died and he fell into depression. He acted unkindly to everyone and many hated him for it. Than after fifteen years of drinking he finally walked out into traffic and was hit by a car. A witch than came by and took his body and preformed the Inferi spell on him bringing him back from the dead. Malkin was just a being who was on this earth. He did as he was told and said or did little other than that. Than one day the witch grew tired of him not bing able to do much but chores and undid the Inferi charm and he ince again became a lifeless body.
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PostSubject: Re: Zombie Days   Wed Jul 02 2008, 10:18

History tells us this much, zombies are real, but it wonít tell us enough about what they are like. Do you lose yourself into the spells of the one who reanimated your dead body and forced you out of your dreamless sleep, your heaven, or your hell? Once you are dead are you always dead no matter how manner Inferi spells are placed upon you? Sadly, written history does not tell us, but in myths and legend there is always a grain of truth so that is to where we must turn in order to find our answers of the paranormal.

Born in April 1897, Galina Morte was the envy of every mother in her small village. A beautiful baby with a cap of mahogany hair, large brown eyes, skin as soft as a flower, and with roses of color blooming on her pale cheeks, Galina was a baby that never cried, never caused any trouble at all. Her mother, Alice Carp had the daughter she had always wanted among her many sons, the oldest being a troublesome lad named Malcolm. As she stroked her young daughterís hair, Alice saw reflected in those perfect eyes everything she should have been. Married to a man she loved instead of the man her father had chosen for her, happy. But Galina was not just her motherís daughter. She also learned to love, play with and learn from her brothers and father, minus Malcolm who spent most of his time in his room.

Galina grew tall and strong, and by the time she was fifteen, her magical aptitude had blossomed into a love of spells and charms that made life interesting. That was when she met George Morte. A respectable young wizard from a well off family, George was the perfect man. With strong shoulders and arms, he became Galinaís best friend, and in time, something more. The couple would often be seen walking hand in hand down the lane to watch the sunset together and enjoy each otherís company. Before she knew it, 7 years had passed and Galina was married at 22 and still as in love as she had been when she first layed her eyes on George. In that time, Malcolm had been disowned from the family after his experiments in his room were revealed. Malcolm had been secretly poisoning children in the village and using their blood to feed a vampire that he had found in the woods. He had been using the vampireís superior speed and skill to steal things to satisfy his excessive drinking habit.

Soon after they were married, Galina was blessed with a child, a beautiful boy who she named Axim. Axim was the spitting image of his mother, right down to the exact shade of her eyes. Axim, though, was like his father and could be troublesome, but Galina loved him very much nonetheless. About a year after Axim was born, Galina gave birth to a second child, Marissa. Marissa favored her father in her looks, but had Galinaís quiet aura. Galina loved her second child as much as her first and was never far away from wither of them. When Axim turned 11, Galina was pregnant again, this time with twins. Axim and Marissa were excited for their new siblings and couldnít wait till they had two new sisters to play with. But something went wrong with this birth, and although the twins were saved, Galina didnít live. George and her children were devastated, and it felt as if their whole world had stopped with Galinaís heart.

Galina was layed to rest in the Godric Hollow Cemetary where she was often visited by her family, including Malcolm. When he heard that his sister had died, Malcolm returned to his childhood village, not to apologize, but to tryout his newest idea. Resurrecting a dead body. Summoning his sisterís lifeless form from the ground, he placed the inferi spell upon his own flesh and blood. Galina rose again.

When Galina first opened her eyes after her long sleep of death everything was vague and blurry, nothing was making sense. The last thing that she had felt was pain, terrible striking pain, and then looking at the red, red floor andÖ dying. But she wasnít dead now, was she?

Malcolm looked at his creation with pride, his dear baby sister risen from the dead! What damage he could inflict upon the family that had scorned him with the jewel of his own motherís life! Forcing Galina to put her own troubles aside, he forced her to do terrible tasks, such as steal things from her motherís home, and haunt her brothers. Malcolm enjoyed his power over the girl who had been so important to his family. If only they knew that it was SHE who was causing them all of this trouble, at his command of course.

Once Galina realized what she had become, she rebelled against it. The fact that she was causing pain to the people who she had loved so much was a hurt to Galina as well. Malcolm kept a very tight grip on Galina, though. She would tell no one of what he was making her do, and during the daylight hours she would b trapped in the house and not allowed to speak. One day, though, Galina was forced to tell Malcolm of a treasure hidden in her own household. A huge sapphire that had great magical value, the sapphire would be worth at least 5,000 Galleons. Malcolmís eyes grew large with greed when he heard of this treasure and he immediately sent Galina after it.

When Galina arrived in her old home, her heart ached as her feet carried her onto the task that she had to accomplish. Her heart reached for her children, but her fingers only wanted the sapphire. What a task it was to be trapped in your own body, a slave to the man who had awoken you from your sleep. As she was exiting the house though, George awoke to see his sapphire, a gift from his mother, gone and ran through the house to find the intruder. When he saw Galina, his mouth went slack and his body fell into a slump. More than anything, at that moment, Galina wanted to go to George and hold him in her arms and be human again. And somehow, the power of one personís love for another broke through the magic that bound Galina. As she ran over to her husband, she wrapped her arms around him and waited for him to look up. As George excitedly called his children, the family was one once more. The twins that had cost Galina her life, Gail, and Greta, Axim, Marissa, George, Galinaís family. Although she could not speak, Malcomís spell had bound her tightly, Galinaís eyes said the words that she could not utter. ĎI love you,í they said. ĎI love you, and Iíll always love you.í Galinaís dead heart was beginning to quiver and shake, for the dead are not meant to feel as much as Galina did, and slowly, in front of her family, her dying bones turned to dust and a voice that everyone in the room knew well spoke.

ďLove you, miss you.Ē
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PostSubject: Re: Zombie Days   Sat Aug 16 2008, 11:18

Great job, everyone! Very entertaining. Points are awarded as follows:

Hufflepuff:

Vulcan/Blackjack 80 pts

Gryffindor:

FaerieofDoom 95 pts

Ravenclaw:

stephy 80 pts
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