I Came Back As A Zombie And They Wanted My Kidney Chapter 05

I Came Back As A Zombie And They Wanted My Kidney Chapter 05

Dash stared at the shriveled, blackened arm on the floor, his knees buckling as he sank down onto the balcony floor.

He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out.

Sera pressed herself into the corner, clutching her own arms and inching backward nonstop.

Harrison finally moved, positioning himself between Eleanor unconscious body and me.

“What… what the hell is this?”

I looked at my empty shoulder. Looked at the arm.

Fifteen seconds ticked by before I finally put together a sentence.

“Um. It’s just broken. Probably, it should still work.”

Dash got up, hand shaking.

“Bullshit! This is some special effects prop you put together to scare us!”

“This is a trick to get out of the transplant!”

He lunged over, picked up the severed arm, and flipped it over and over, searching for silicone seams or any hidden trick mechanism.

There was nothing. It was a real, human arm.

Just bone. Dried tendon. No moisture anywhere.

Dash’s hands shook so hard that the arm slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor.

Sera screamed. “Don’t fall for it! It’s a prank!”

“Any movie makeup artist could do this in an hour!”

“She just doesn’t want to give up her kidney!”

Harrison stared. His sanity was hanging by a thread.

“Wren. Explain. Right now!”

I walked over to the severed arm and slowly squatted down.

I picked it up with one hand, lined up the broken end with my shoulder socket, and pressed it into place.

Bone clicked against bone. But it didn’t hold.

I let go, and the arm wobbled twice before falling right back to the floor.

“It used to stay on,” I said flatly from my spot on the ground.

“Not anymore. I’m running out of time.”

Eleanor woke up, and the second she laid eyes on my empty shoulder socket, she let out another bloodcurdling scream.

Harrison held her face. “Don’t pass out! It might be fake!”

Sera shook her head, manic. “Fake! It’s all fake!”

She summoned up her courage and charged at me, grabbing my right arm.

“I don’t buy it! There’s no way her right arm is fake too. This one must be rea—”

She pulled.

My right shoulder made a sick crack. The joint popped out of place.

Seraphina screamed and let go immediately.

I pushed it back in. It worked. Sort of.

My phone buzzed.

The priest: [YOU IDIOT! On my way. Don’t let them call the cops. I want that money!]

The doorbell rang.

A middle-aged man in a dusty gray robe, with greasy, matted hair and an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, sauntered in.

It was the priest.

He took one look at the scene and clicked his tongue.

“Alright. Cat’s out of the bag.”

He tossed his bag on the table, and rummaged out a handful of books and a thick stack of crumpled receipts.

“Let’s settle accounts.”