When a pigeon chewed out Basil Fesper's right eye while he was taking a nap in his lawn chair, he finally admitted that it was time to make an appointment with the optometrist. The previous week, his left eye had rotted so much that it had fallen out of its socket. He'd tried to put it back in, but there was almost nothing left of it except a shapeless splotch, and he really couldn't see anything out of it anymore.

His wife Judith had pestered him to go then, before he lost his second eye too. But had he listened to her_ No. "Stop nagging me," he'd said. "I still have one good eye. That's all I need. Those eye doctors are just a bunch of profiteering opportunists. That's what they are. Shame on them. Taking advantage of people's basic needs."

Judith had hemmed and hawed, knowing that there was no swaying her beloved Basil when he got going on one of his rants. Really, there wasn't a political maggot in his body. He was just cheap and lazy, but he always justified it with some highfalutin reason. But now he was blind, because he hadn't listened to her. Although she loved him dearly, she couldn't resist poking fun at him, letting him bang into walls, moving furniture so he'd stumble on it.

"You think you're so smart! Did you ever stop to think that if I'd gone to the eye doctor last week, that maybe the pigeon would have eaten my new left eye along with my old right eye, and I would've paid for a new eye that lasted only a week_ And maybe then we wouldn't have enough money left for that intestine shawl you've been ogling at the mall. Did you think of that_"

Judith had to admit that Basil had a point there. Sure, he was cheap and lazy, but he wasn't stupid. And she did want that shawl. She hadn't bought it for herself yet, because she suspected that it was going to be Basil's gift to her for their wedding anniversary. That was in only three weeks, and she still had so much planning to do for the party.

Judith didn't like to drive, so she asked their neighbour George if he'd take her and Basil to the optometrist. Strictly speaking Judith didn't really need to go, but she knew that choosing the right eyes required a woman's touch. At least in Basil's case. George and Raymond next door certainly did fine without a woman.

George agreed to take them, and the very next day he drove the four of them to the mall, where the optometrist kept his office. Raymond came along too. "George and I need to look for some new curtains. We're tired of our Caucasians. It's such a bland colour, don't you think_ Besides, it's been ages since we bought new ones. The hides are starting to show some wear. We were thinking some shade of Negro. But not too dark. Some kind of creamy chocolate mix. It's a bit more expensive, but it'll look nice. And it won't stain as easily."

Judith enthusiastically agreed with Raymond, but she was just being neighbourly. She was a traditionalist, always had been. Caucasian curtains were right and proper. Though Asians looked good in a kitchen. She herself had Thai curtains in her kitchen. A hint of daring was still acceptable.

At the mall, the two couples went their separate ways, arranging to meet in one hour at the food court, next to the Deep Fried Brain Nugget Hut. Judith liked their neighbours, but she was glad they weren't tagging along to the optometrist. She didn't want anyone else getting in the way of her choosing exactly the right eyes for George.

Doctor Browning showed them (well, he showed her; Basil still couldn't see anything) dozens of eyes in their clear-liquid preserving jars, but Judith wasn't pleased by any of them. Especially with their anniversary coming, she wanted Basil to look really sharp.

And then she spotted a pair in a locked case behind the counter. She'd never seen eyes like those before. The irises were absolute black -- or was that just a trick of the shadows_

"Can I see those_" she asked Doctor Browning.

"Well, hmm, they're very expensive. They're one of a kind, really. They were taken from a particularly wily and ferocious feral fleshie." Browning giggled at his alliteration. "Apparently he evaded capture for years." Then the optometrist quoted the price.

Judith ghtmled, and Basil finally chimed in. "Are you out of your mind, Judith_ See, it's like I told you. Thieves. Shameless profiteers."

"I want to see them," Judith said, shushing Basil.

They were exquisite. Flawlessly black irises. And not the slightest hint of rot. Basil would look so dashing in these. Then she thought about that intestine shawl. Oh well, maybe next year.

"We'll take them," Judith said, covering Basil's mouth with her hand.

~+~

The deal had been that Yamesh-Lot would make Giovanni immortal. In return, Giovanni would harvest the essence of those on whom he inflicted the dark lord's nightmares. Thus, his lord Yamesh-Lot fed and Giovanni stayed in the dark god's good graces. Giovanni used his long life to continually increase his knowledge of the mystic arts. For centuries, it had been a perfect arrangement. Sure, occasionally some do-gooders would try to get in Giovanni's way, but, even at their worst, they'd been nothing more than petty annoyances.

His eyes, once an unremarkable brown, now reflected the dark power of the lord of nightmares: they became deep black pools. With those dark eyes, he preyed on humanity for centuries, enjoying every ounce of the terror he sowed.

And then the meteors came.

For one whole week the meteors rained down on the Earth, destroying cities, forests, everything. Normally, Giovanni would have revelled in the ensuing chaos. But there was a distressing feeling of otherness about the meteors. For one thing, from day one of the meteor shower, communication with Yamesh-Lot became increasingly difficult. The meteors were generating some kind of interference or static. By the end of the seventh day, when the last meteors hit the Earth, Giovanni's connection to Yamesh-Lot had been completely severed.

He could still inflict nightmares and other curses on pitiful mortal fools -- Giovanni was, after all, a master of black magic -- but the dark lord was not there to accept the sorcerer's sacrifices.

And something else happened on the seventh day. The dead rose.

At first Giovanni wondered why only human corpses were zombified. And then he noticed the occasional reanimated dog or cat. In time, he figured out that the meteors must have emitted some kind of radiation that interacted with embalming fluid, as unlikely as that sounded. He knew that there must be more to it, but his spells failed to solve the mystery.

Magic became increasingly taxing for Giovanni; before the time of the zombies he could weave his spells with almost as little effort as it took to breathe. But now ... He resented how weak he grew when practicing the darks arts.

For weeks the reanimated human corpses ravaged the planet, popping open human skulls and feeding on the brains inside. They never ate the brains of other animals.

After a while, though, the undead began to lose some of their savage fury, and they started to round up the surviving humans. Then they farmed them. At first, just for food, but eventually the zombies found other uses for the remains of human bodies.

Giovanni's earthbound magics were useless against the undead. They possessed some kind of immunity that he could not overcome. Besides, the centuries-old sorcerer could feel his powers waning. Something about the extraterrestrial nature of the meteors and the zombies they created seemed to disrupt the energy flux from which he drew his powers. The undead were invaders, and they had conquered.

So he hid. His magics were still strong enough for that. He hid for so many centuries -- scavenging for food, always careful to steer clear of the invaders' hunting parties -- that he lost track of time entirely.

And he grew lonely. For so long he had preyed on humanity in the name of his dark lord. In this new world of zombies, not only was it unwise to bring attention to himself, but it was very rare that he would come across a human in the wild. Almost all humans were farm animals. He had no-one to prey upon. And he yearned for the dark embrace of his god. It was inconceivable to Giovanni that the invaders had fully extinguished the eternal darkness of Yamesh-Lot; but no spell and no ritual was ever successful in re- establishing Giovanni's link to the dark lord of nightmares.

And so Giovanni grew insane, forgetting his name, his identity, forgetting even Yamesh-Lot. The ageless sorcerer was reduced to being no more than a scavenger who cared only about survival.

His spells of protection eventually petered out. Inevitably, undead hunters found him and captured him.

Giovanni's brain was removed from his skull and mashed into puree along with many other brains. His various body parts were recycled into the zombie economy.

And his eyes, his perfectly black eyes, were harvested and put on sale.

~+~

For the next few days, Basil complained about the exorbitant price that they'd paid for his new eyes, but Judith could tell that he was doing it out of habit. Her husband had always been a complainer. After so many years of marriage, though, she could distinguish between serious grievances and mere blathering. There was also a bit of ego-saving in there; Basil never liked to be the one who was wrong. Not that he ever got mad or anything; underneath all that gruff complaining, Basil hid a tender mess of rotting flesh. He was a such a sweetie, really.

She caught him admiring himself in the mirror; he really did like his snazzy new eyes. But she didn't tease him; it would only take longer for him to get over his complaining stage.

And so it took less than a week for him to say, "You know, these eyes don't look half bad. Plus, they feel robust, like they're gonna last longer." Judith smiled, and Basil kissed her on the cheek. He kept his mouth open just enough so that his maggots tickled her cheek. He knew how she liked that.

Judith loved how those new eyes made him look so suave and sexy. She ghtmled, "Oh, Basil..."

And they fell into each other arms. He carried her into the living room, and he gently laid her down on the plush tongue rug that he'd bought her for their last anniversary.

It had been at least decades since Basil had made love to her.

"Oh, Basil ... Yes ... Yes..."

~+~

Slowly, Giovanni regained consciousness. At first, he numbly watched the parade of images that presented itself before his eyes. A zombie woman wearing garish and filthy rags; the suburban house decorated with human body parts; the refrigerator filled with processed brain products; brains being cooked on the barbecue in the backyard; zombies driving automobiles or walking the streets in the moonlight; and lots and lots of television: strange sports he could not fathom, zombie/human pornography, teleplays that defied comprehension.

But, gradually, his frustration at not being able to act on those images gnawed at him, and Giovanni remembered who he was. What he was.

A scourge upon the vermin of humanity. A fearsome sorcerer. A high priest of Yamesh-Lot.

He prayed to his dark lord, but the god remained silent. But for the first time in centuries, Giovanni could sense Yamesh-Lot just beyond his reach. His god was still alive! But how could the sorcerer-priest re-establish his connection to the lord of nightmares..._

One day, while his host body stood in front of a mirror rubbing a brownish sludge onto the decaying flesh of its face, Giovanni recognized his own black eyes -- a legacy of his devotion to his god -- staring back at him.

For a second, Giovanni feared that he'd become a zombie, but then he realized that this zombie's body was entirely the wrong shape -- taller and narrower than he had been. This monster was ... wearing Giovanni's eyes. The way the creature admired them in the mirror, Giovanni suspected that he'd only recently acquired them.

But just as Giovanni began to curse at the ignominious humiliation of being reduced to the state of eyewear for a rotting monstrosity, the sorcerer felt a twinkle of energy. Somehow, being inside this creature's body enabled him to once again tap into the dark forces that fuelled his sorcery.

Giovanni knew then that he could take control of this ridiculous creature's body. He would then perform the rituals that would return Yamesh-Lot to the mortal world. For his dark lord, he would rid the Earth of this unwanted pestilence. Humanity was Yamesh-Lot's to prey upon. Giovanni had no doubts that the reign of these repulsive usurpers was finally to come to an end, and that he would be the agent of their downfall.

~+~

Their anniversary party was only a week away, and Judith was getting worried about Basil. Since getting those new eyes, Basil had changed. At first, it was all for the better -- he was more cheerful, and he paid better attention to her than he had in centuries -- but then he started acting strangely.

He spent hours staring at himself in the mirror, gesticulating oddly, ignoring her when she asked him what he was doing. He now rarely spoke to her, and, when he did, he was abrupt with her and sounded confused.

She was pondering all of that while stirring the brain stew. Her own secret recipe: she minced two tehtmloons of sun-dried testes and mixed it with half a cup of crumbled skin flakes and half a cup of grated bone, with sprinkles of liver powder and finely chopped earlobes, then gradually stirred the blend into the soup. Then she topped it all off with a tablespoon of fresh marrow juice. The trick was simply to not dump all the spices in at once. Basil loved this dish so much. Maybe having it for dinner would snap him out of his bizarre mood.

~+~

This fool is so easy to control, thought Giovanni. This Basil, as he called himself, had no willpower to speak of. The hardest thing was learning to control the pain. Every part of this creature's body sent continual streams of pain into their shared brain. Moving was even worse agony. It threatened to shatter his concentration, but Giovanni's mystic training helped him overcome this obstacle.

Giovanni was learning, also, to access the monster's memories. This upcoming wedding anniversary celebration that the creature's wife Judith was always going on about would be a perfect occasion to perform the rituals that would -- he hoped -- reconnect Yamesh-Lot to this world.

He would have to learn to be more patient with the decaying, stupid hag. He could use her help. He would have to fool her into helping him with the necessary preparations.

He was confident that he had achieved complete control of Basil's body; he should concentrate on enlisting Judith's unwitting aid.

He stepped into the kitchen, intending to woo the monstrous female.

She was standing at the stove, stirring some putrid, foul-smelling concoction.

~+~

Judith heard the door creak open and turned to see Basil walk into the kitchen. He was smiling at her.

Holding his arms out towards her, he said, "Judith, darling, I'm sorry I've been so distant these past few days; it's the stress, y---"

And then his body started contorting every which way, his face twisting maniacally, maggots flipping out of his mouth, nose, and ears.

Judith just didn't know what to think anymore. What was going on with Basil these days_ After centuries of marriage, you'd think she knew all of his moods.

After a few minutes, Basil finally steadied himself on the table. He shook his head as if to collect himself, and then said, with a hint of desperation, "Oh Judith, baby ... That smell! I love your brain stew! That's what gave me the strength to come back. That wasn't me---"

And then the contortions began again, more violent than before. Basil looked like he had no control over his movements. She was worried that he might lose an arm or something. The last thing they needed was the expense of reconstructive surgery. What was wrong with that man!

Judith had to duck out the back door to avoid being hit by Basil's flailing body. She peered inside through the window, mesmerized by the strange and disturbing spectacle. Nearly fifteen minutes later, the episode finally subsided, and Basil collapsed on the floor.

~+~

Giovanni had underestimated the strength of the monster's willpower. While he and Basil were struggling for control, the body lay paralyzed on the kitchen floor.

I am Giovanni, high priest of the redoubtable Yamesh-Lot; you are nothing but a snivelling abomination, the sorcerer mentally spat at Basil.

Oh yeah! Well, you're nothing but a filthy fleshie animal. I eat dumb beasts like you for breakfast, Basil spat right back.

You cannot hope to match the power of my eldritch magics, monster. You will succumb, and I will triumph.

This is my body, and I'm not gonna let some stupid animal control me.

Cringe before my might, vile monster!

And so it went, for interminable hours.

~+~

Judith called Doctor Dora. She'd been their family physician for ages, and she was one of the rare doctors who still made house calls. It was the only way Judith ever got Basil close to having a checkup. He didn't trust doctors, but good old Doctor Dora always took his jibes with a grin. He never let her give him a physical or anything, but she knew how to surreptitiously ask the right questions.

After she left a message with Doctor Dora's secretary, Judith cleaned the mess that Basil had made in the kitchen. While he was flailing madly, he'd knocked the pot from the stove, splattering Judith's brain stew all over the kitchen.

It was a shame that so much food had been wasted, but she noted with pleasure how the stew seeped into the fleshly plush of the chairs, how it filtered through cracks where the counter met the wall. At least the kitchen would always keep a fresh aroma of decaying brains. Judith liked to see the positive side of things.

It was hard to clean the floor, though, what with Basil just lying there. So she dragged him into the living room. As she did so, she noticed how the stew that had spilled on him was leaving a trail of brain slime. She plopped him on the couch, and, as she hoped, she saw brain stains appear on the upholstery. The living room would smell really brainy now. The positive! Always concentrate on the positive!

As Judith was about to return to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. That was fast, thought Judith. Good old Doctor Dora!

But it was their neighbour Raymond at the door. "Hello, Judith, dear. I'm so sorry to be barging in like this, but I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of brain butter_ I need it for dinner tonight, and I hadn't realized that we were out."

"Huh---"

"Mmm. Is that your brain stew I'm smelling_ You know, you've never given me that recipe."

"I---"

"Judith, dear. How rude of me! You must be exhausted. All those preparations for the big party."

"Basil is ... I mean ... Yes, I've got some brain butter. Just come in the kitchen." Judith had no time to deal with Raymond. How that man could natter! Couldn't he see she was in the middle of a crisis, here_

On his way to the kitchen, Raymond noticed Basil on the couch. "Still the same old Basil! Napping while you run yourself ragged. You should whip that man into shape sometime, Judith, dear."

Judith's patience had just about run out. She opened her mouth to give her neighbour a piece of her mind, but Raymond was saved by the doorbell.

Judith had hoped to get Raymond out before the doctor arrived. She realized then how lucky she'd been that Raymond believed that Basil was only sleeping. She didn't want him to gossip about Basil's health, especially now, when all she wanted was a nice anniversary party without having to worry what people were saying about her and Basil behind their backs. Maybe she could shoo him out the back door_

"Raymond, dear, could you maybe get the butter yourself and see yourself out by the back_ As you said, I'm so dreadfully busy, and that would help me." The doorbell rang again.

"Of course, Judith. So sorry." Raymond gently patted Judith's arm; it took all her self-control not to sock him one.

As he headed for the kitchen, Judith opened the door on the third ring. This time it really was Doctor Dora.

~+~

The war between Giovanni and Basil raged on, with no victor in sight.

~+~

After Doctor Dora left, Judith's anxiety grew. The doctor had recommended hospital care, and Judith knew that Basil would just hate that. She'd told the doctor that she'd have to think about it.

The problem was that Doctor Dora had not been able to diagnose Basil. As far as the doctor could tell, there was nothing wrong with Basil. She couldn't explain why he was unconscious and unresponsive.

Responsive! That word sparked an idea. Basil loved her brain stew so much. There was still some left in the pot. What if she fed him some_ Maybe that would bring him out of it. It certainly couldn't hurt.

~+~

It seemed like nothing could break the stalemate. Giovanni had sorcerous might on his side, but Basil had the advantage of fighting on his home turf, his own body.

And then Judith poured some brain stew down Basil's throat.

Basil's favourite dish. The taste distracted him for a split second, and that was just enough for Giovanni to gain the advantage and push Basil's conscience down into some dim cellar of the mind the two now shared. Giovanni could have obliterated Basil completely, but he was afraid of the consequences. He might inadvertently kill himself in the process.

Giovanni regained control. He stirred Basil's body awake.

~+~

When Basil regained consciousness, Judith started asking him questions, but he shushed her, saying, "I'm just so nervous and excited about our anniversary, baby; it's making me realize how much you mean to me."

And then he kissed her, almost shyly, like he'd never done it before.

Well this was one change she didn't mind. Basil had never been so romantic before. Ever. Talking about their anniversary that way, and then that tender kiss, his mouth maggots tickling her lips. Those new eyes of his had really made a difference. She hoped they'd last, or at least have a lasting effect!

Then he picked her up in his arms and led her to the bedroom.

~+~

In all his years of service to the dark lord Yamesh-Lot, never had Giovanni been called upon to do something as disgusting as having sex with a zombie in a bed of mud.

He had to admit, though, that the mud felt really good, soothing his decaying flesh. These zombies appeared to be immortal, and somehow they regenerated skin and organs just fast enough to keep most of their skeletal frames covered, but not so fast as to lose that permanent veneer of putrid decay.

When he'd pressed his maggot-filled mouth onto Judith's maggot-filled vulva, it required all his self-discipline to keep up his role as the enthusiastically enamoured Basil.

Afterwards, he'd told her how he wanted to decorate the backyard for the party "so it would be just perfect," and what could she do but agree_

~+~

Judith couldn't remember Basil ever having been so assertive before. At first she'd enjoyed how he was showing so much interest in their anniversary party. She fell in love with him all over again.

But then, despite herself, she started to resent him. He grew increasingly bossy, insisting that things be exactly the way he wanted them. If she showed any hesitation, he'd start having sex with her with such vigour that she found herself unable to deny him anything.

She couldn't recognize her husband or her marriage, torn between missing the comfort of how things had always been and thrilling at the excitement of Basil's newfound virility and unpredictability.

~+~

Of all Giovanni's preparations for summoning Yamesh-Lot back to this plane of existence, the torches laid out in the shape of a star was the one he'd had to work the hardest to convince Judith to accept. She just didn't like fire -- was quite afraid of it, in fact. Maybe these creatures were particularly vulnerable to fire_ In any case, after a weekend outing at a fleshie slaughterhouse -- where, for a fee, you could watch a zombie butcher rip apart live humans and, if you were lucky, maybe even get splattered by a bit of gore -- followed by a five-hour sex session next to a lake of raw sewage, she finally relented.

Judith wanted to be loved, and Giovanni was grateful that Basil had done such a poor job of it all these centuries. It made his work easier now.

So the big day was finally here. The guests had started to file into the backyard, the torches had been lit in the proper order, the animal skins had been hung just right, the appropriate mystical sigils had been painted on the available surfaces.

These abominations wanted a party. He'd show them a good time.

~+~

George and Raymond were the last of the guests to arrive. "Happy anniversary!" Raymond squealed while George handed Judith their gift.

Judith gracefully accepted the Negro curtains from George and Raymond. "Did you guess that we were sounding you out that day at the mall_" Raymond asked. "We were so thrilled that you liked this shade."

Maybe she could "accidentally" burn these curtains or something_ Maybe Basil's torches would be good for something after all_ There was no way she was going to put these up in her house.

Biting down her irritation, Judith disentangled herself from her neighbours to see how Basil was dealing with the guests.

Why was Basil embarrassing her so_ Yes, Judith liked all the sex and romance in their lives nowadays, but she had to admit that, in the end, she'd made up her mind that she preferred the old Basil. The one she could predict. The one she could control. The one who wasn't so weird.

Basil was lining up the confused guests in a spiral around the torches. He asked them to join hands; he was so excited it was as if he were standing in front of an open vat of fresh brains.

Basil waved to Judith, "Come on, darling! The fun's about to start!"

~+~

Yes! Giovanni could feel Yamesh-Lot's presence prodding at the edge of his consciousness with increasing force. The ritual was working. Soon the dark lord of nightmares would once again roam the Earth. He would rid the world of this zombie pestilence. Giovanni would once again be free to prey on mortals to assuage his god's hunger.

These zombies were merrily chanting the invocation that Giovanni had taught them, following the steps that the sorcerer had marked on the ground. These fools had no idea that they were summoning their own doom!

The chant reached its conclusion; the dancing stopped. The sky grew dark; and Yamesh-Lot appeared: a gigantic chaos of dark tendrils that sprang from the centre of the star defined by the torches. Yamesh-Lot towered over the zombie suburb, blending with the darkness of the sky. The god's power flooded Giovanni's mind, and the sorcerer laughed loudly.

Yamesh-Lot's thick, gooey substance fully materialized. He captured the gathered zombies, wrapping them in His dark tendrils, preparing to consume their essence and transform them into nightmare acolytes who would haunt humanity's dreams in His name.

And then the zombies started to eat Giovanni's god. They chomped ravenously on the tendrils; they chewed and swallowed the black god meat like it was the best meal they'd ever had.

Giovanni felt his god's pain sear through him. The sorcerer screamed and fell on the ground writhing.

Berserk with feeding rage, the zombies ate through Yamesh-Lot's body with relentless ferocity.

Giovanni felt his god's presence fade. The ancient sorcerer -- still ensconced within Basil -- fainted, and then finally died, along with his god.

~+~

Basil never did tell Judith that he'd been possessed by the spirit of a fleshie animal. It was just too embarrassing. He had witnessed everything that Giovanni had done with his body, but he had been unable to act.

He'd noticed that Judith hadn't been altogether displeased by Giovanni's behaviour, and he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that it had been someone else who had been so romantic with her. He'd never hear the end of that.

After that weirdness at the wedding anniversary party, as far as Basil could tell, the animal who'd invaded his mind was gone for good. What a relief! And the guests had sure enjoyed that unexpected snack. On the other hand, his suave jet-black eyes had turned a dull brown, and whereas they had seemed impervious to rot before, he could feel them start to go mushy on him. He sighed. More spending.

No more black eyes for him, though. He'd get the cheapest eyes he could find next time; and he'd go alone. It had been Judith who'd insisted on the black eyes. That woman and all her ideas!

The funny thing, though, was that, a few hours after the party, Judith's eyes turned black. As did the eyes of all their guests.

The next day, Judith started to complain about bad dreams in which fleshies hunted her down, burned her body, and dropped the ashes into a dark pit, while gigantic black eyes looked down from the sky.

Judith gouged out her eyes, but they only grew back.

[ end ]

About Claude Lalumière:

Based in Montreal, Claude Lalumière writes weird fiction and opinionated criticism. He's the motive force behind the webzine Lost Pages (lostpages.net). As an anthologist, his books include Island Dreams: Montreal Writers of the Fantastic, Open Space: New Canadian Fantastic Fiction, and (in collaboration with Marty Halpern) Witpunk.