I know I’m a bit late to the zombie thing. But I am surprised at how all the movies seem to follow the same zombie rules. If I were to make a zombie movie it would be a bit more sci-fi.
The zombies that come back to life would be our very selves and they would interject themselves into our lives. If you were in 5th grade, your older dead self would show up on the playground, and tell Kristy Jenkins that you have a crush on her. Or if you were in a dead end relationship your future dead self would tell your significant other, you no longer loved them.
Yes, the zombies would still be rotting and staggering, but they wouldn’t eat flesh or anything for that matter. Though I would like to have a scene with a zombie sitting alone in an old station wagon by himself, eating icecream. Perhaps he would drop the ice cream and try to pick it up to eat it, only to become self conscious once he realized he was being watched by a child.
The difficulty with my zombies is they couldn’t be killed, they’re already dead. Sure you could butcher them and make them into a zombie puree but they would just reanimate and come back, only now with more vigor. Your dead friends and relatives would also come back and because they were already dead and couldn’t pester their alive selves they would visit friends, family, lovers and or tormentors. There would be a serial killer who is driven to kill himself by the throng of zombie victims that badger him day and night. Others would kill themselves too, out of guilt and more complex reasons.
Sometimes the zombies would want strange things and they would need help as they can’t do anything on their own.
My dead uncle wanted to look at porn on the internet. Luckily the porn he most wanted to see was pictures of sleepy looking women in various stages of undress and not some weird zombie porn. I end up giving him a cheap computer tablet that had a slide-show of the images I collected for him. He wandered off never to be seen again.
I found it best to just give them what the want and found in doing so their presence would lessen. I had a little puppy that came back. He’d been hit by a car. He just wanted to play. It seemed to make him so happy and me too, but one day I threw the ball and he ran for it and disappeared. Strange how I cried harder when he died the second time.
