The Bitter Ends. "Scotty."

A Bitter Ends Preview- ScottyI selected this story as the preview for The Bitter Ends for multiple reasons. It doesn't reveal too much. It's short... and of all the stories in the collection it is the most bizarre. It's a fun story. 
This material is under copyright, any copying or redistribution of this story is strictly prohibited without the author's consent. "Scotty" Copyright 2013


And without further ado, here's... Scotty He was winning the race.

To show his persecutors what would come of his plan, he stood, his hip creaking eerily. At the door was a revelation, a defiance to his sense of order. The undead faces growled and lashed, and it was then that he understood. They stood in morbid defiance of the underground, refusing, even in death to join the worms and be recycled by the natural order. The worm had his own streak of rebellion, and in that moment, with his beliefs centered on the indisputable truth that the hounds outside the door had come to cheat him of his immortality, the gibberish came spilling from his lips. As he went faithfully forward with his dialogue, Scotty felt his body grow lucid, his mind was washed out. With his eyes planted on the door pane, he raised his meaty forearm to his face. To his surprise a puff of dust shot out of the door molding. He was aware that he must press on, and that it would be a hard-won victory. He would deny them his flesh. They wanted to imprison him like a brain-dead landlocked salmon, useless other than to spawn more deviants. He would refuse all of them, joining the underworld, where one day he would rise up and snatch away the above-grounders, enslaving them to his earthen domain…His unshaven stubble pricked at his skin as he placed his mouth over his brachial artery. His jaws clamped down, a signal was sent to his brain, a mechanism of self-defense triggered by his nerves. He refused it, biting harder, his incisors cut through his epidermis, where the pain grew maddeningly overpowered. Then he shut down his mind, focusing on his new existence to come, where power is not measured, but rather lies waiting for the end of it, to find another planted in the earth, where all stand, roots flourish, and foundations are built. It all came from the underworld, Scotty saw that now. The zombies were still at the door. But that was not what terrified the worm, no, it was his final fleeting thought, before his front teeth finally broke the wall of his artery. “What if I’m wrong?”  And then it was over, blood spurting forth crazily in rhythm with his pulse, his legs weaker, the rising howls against the door… he slumped.And there was nothing.