By Wes Leigh
This is a work of fiction intended solely for the
entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is
purely coincidental. Readers who would
like to chat are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
This story is the property of the author and is
protected by copyright laws. The author
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Sometimes a friend gives
you an idea that sparks a story. This story wouldn't have been possible
without the help of Danny, an amazingly ordinary fellow who just happens to be
from Denmark and provided invaluable assistance in making this story
believable. You're the best, Danny. Thanks again.
"Zombies take your
positions, please."
"Oh, come on people,
MOVE, MOVE, MOVE. The light is
perfect. Get in your spots as quickly as
possible." SQQUEALLCH.
Ouch. I covered my ears when the director's
bullhorn squealed with feedback. Naturally,
he was two feet away and pointing it in my direction when it happened. That's how things go for me.
He lowered the
bullhorn and glared at me. I guess
zombie extras aren't supposed to protect their ears. I quickly lowered my hands back to my side. I did NOT want to be fired on
my first day. Even if they were only
paying a hundred bucks a day, I needed the dough. Rent was four days past due and I needed cash
asap. Sure, my landlord was my dad, so
he was pretty lenient when it came to expecting money, but I still wanted to
pay him on time.
I suppose I could
have raised the money some other way, such as standing behind a counter,
smiling a fake grin, and asking if I could super-size your order. God, I hated fast food. I even hated the SMELL of fast
food. Yes, my dad was right. He often told me I'd never find a job if I
majored in History. Well, that wasn't
quite true. Since graduating from
college, I've found plenty of part-time jobs, but nothing that pays more than
minimum wage and doesn't involve hours of torment that makes a medieval torture
chamber seem tame in comparison.
So here I was, an
extra in a zombie apocalypse movie, getting a hundred dollars for a day's work,
which so far had involved standing around waiting for the film crew to get
their shit together. I'd have been
getting more, if I had joined the union, but they wanted $50 for dues, and
that's half my first day's pay. Besides,
I didn't plan on doing this ever again.
Moving from job to
job is more my style. Fuck a
career. I don't want to be rich or
comfortable. That's not my thing. I'd much prefer to be amazingly
ordinary.
SQUIRRRCHHHH. The director was back at it. "Okay, now
listen up, people. Quick reminder. When action begins, I'll call out zones. REMEMBER WHICH ZONE YOU'RE IN! When you hear your zone number called, fall
to the ground where you are and DO NOT MOVE!
Once you are on the ground, you are DEAD. You will not move from that point on. If your nose itches, you will not scratch
it. If you get a muscle cramp, you will suck
it up and endure the pain, but you will not move. If you have to pee, wet your pants."
Most of the extras
chuckled hearing that. I wished the
director had kept the last comment to himself.
My bladder was beginning to feel a little pressure from the cup of
coffee I'd had earlier.
The director
continued his speech. "When every zone
has fallen to the ground, STAY WHERE YOU ARE.
Don't get up until I tell you, because we'll be filming the next sequence,
and all you dead zombies need to stay dead!
Now if everyone is ready ... cameras start rolling."
I glanced at the guy
next to me. He was probably still in
college, because he looked my age, maybe a little younger. But unlike me, he was decently muscled. Curly black hair. Green eyes.
Cute. I was jealous. I wished I looked that good, but I'm just an
average-looking dude, hoping one day to be more than 5'8" tall, wishing I could
lose a few pounds and grow a few muscles, and thinking my light brown hair and
hazel eyes are boring, boring, boring.
At least to me they're boring. As
boring as my name ... Johnny Johnson.
Yeah, my parents could have made just a tiny bit more effort coming up
with a name for me when I was born, but they probably knew how average I'd end
up being and thought, `Why not give him a boring name to match his future
personality?' That's why I'll never have
a boyfriend like the college guy standing next to me. He's probably not even gay, not that you can
tell that sort of thing with just one look, but I think I saw him chatting up
some girls earlier, so ... yeah, he's probably not gay and the two of us don't
stand a chance.
I continued looking around
at the other people nearby. I guess they
wanted different types of people for their zombie extras.
The old dude on the
other side of me was definitely Different with a capital D. Fat and saggy and overweight! Geez!
And he's already dripping with sweat.
It's only 9 a.m. Sure, it was
April in Albuquerque, and the morning was warming up, but the dude was
seriously coated with sweat and it was pouring down his face. Gross!
"ZONE ONE ... drop!"
yelled the director.
I was in zone three,
so I knew I had a minute. I kept
checking out the other zombie-wanna-be's in my vicinity.
There was a teenage
girl on the other side of the stairway from me.
We were both standing in one of those concrete stairways that led from
the ground down to a door to this bunker-like place. I was standing a few steps from the top, and they'd
told me to fall backwards when I die, with my legs still inside the stairway
and my body flopped out on the ground next to it. The teen girl was across from me. She was told to die the same as me, but flop
over on the other side of the stairwell.
I was sure her boobs would be part of the action. She had nice ones, not that I was the best
judge of that, not being a boob connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination. I like guys, okay, so give me a break. I glanced at her boobs. I had to admit they're a pretty good size,
which is probably how she got the job.
The director started
screaming in his bullhorn again. "For
all you brainiacs in Zones Two, Three, and Four who died when I yelled for Zone
One to drop ... please get back on your feet and LISTEN FOR YOUR ZONE NUMBER TO
BE CALLED!!!"
Wow. This guy had a serious Napoleon complex. I wondered if he was compensating for
something.
"Cameras keep
rolling ... pan to zone two. And ZONE TWO
DROP!"
I had to snicker. Three people in Zone Two stood there, staring
as their buddies all around them collapsed to the ground.
"DAMN IT!!
Cameras keep rolling. Zone Two ...
everyone back on your feet." I couldn't
help myself. I started laughing quietly as
Zone Two stood back up and the director screamed, "ZONE TWO ... ALL OF YOU, AT
THE SAME TIME ... DROP!!!"
They got it right
this time. I wondered how many of them
were in the union.
It was a struggle,
but I managed to get my giggles under control.
Our zone was coming up. Zone
Three. The stairway-to-the-top-secret-bunker
zone. Here we go!
"Annnnnndddd ... ZONE
THREE, DROP!"
I threw myself backwards
to the ground, outstandingly dead. It
was actually not a bad spot to die. The
grass under my back was comfy. My lower
legs were hanging down in the stairwell.
The concrete wall was cool underneath my knees. The sun wasn't in my eyes, thanks to a tree located
conveniently nearby. I was a very lucky
zombie.
I decided I would
die with eyes wide open so I could check out all the action as the camera crews
moved through the mayhem. Who
knows? They might even be impressed with
my acting skills and keep me on for the rest of the movie. After all, how many other zombies died with
their eyes open?
I guessed that Zone
Three nailed it, because Director Guy never yelled at us. Yea, us!
The director and
cameras kept moving, and he was soon yelling at Zone Four to drop.
I decided this was a
piece of cake. I was chilling out,
stretched out on a cool, grassy spot, enjoying some fresh air, and I'll get a
hundred bucks at the end of the day. It
beat standing on my feet for ten hours, asking, "You want fries with that?"
͠
͠ ͠
I was so glad I decided to die with my eyes open when Kristian
Hansen walked by.
What a gorgeous boy! Wavy
blonde hair, styled like all the cool kids do it these days. Sort of cut short on the sides with extra
length on the top so he's always flipping it out of his eyes. And those eyes ... pale blue gray, at least
that's what they look like in close-up's when the camera's in his face and he's
delivering his lines. Sometimes those
eyes are like shining stars that draw you in.
Other times, they glisten with tears when his heart is breaking, and
then his lips will quiver just a little bit as he speaks. And his voice is so sweet. Well past puberty, it's starting to get deep,
but every now and then it breaks. Makes
you shiver to hear it. And when he
smiles, with those dazzling white teeth and those deep ruby lips, it makes you
sigh.
Well, it makes me sigh.
I know I shouldn't be attracted to the kid, but he's seriously
cute. He was one of the cutest child
actors ever to star in a movie, in my humble opinion, and now he's a seriously
sexy teen. He's also the reason I quit
my job at a place I choose not to name out loud (they can stuff their
hamburgers right up their Golden Arches for all I care) just so I could get on
the movie set.
When I heard they were filming a new zombie movie here in
Albuquerque and they were looking for extras, I thought, `Meh, could be
interesting.'
When I heard Kristian Hansen was starring in it, I thought,
`I gotta get a part, even if I do it for free.'
Because who knows? I
might get a chance to meet Kristian Hansen, the hottest fifteen-year-old on the
planet.
He's from Denmark, so I think his first movie was some
artsy-fartsy thing about two boys who fall in love during a summer in
Greece. I don't think Kristian is gay;
he's just an incredible actor. But that
movie made him famous all over Europe.
For months, all anyone could talk about was the incredible love story
between two gorgeous boys. Of course,
the people here in America made a HUGE fuss over it too, either loving it or
hating it, depending on their political point-of-view, but there was one thing
everyone agreed on: Kristian Hansen was
amazing. Now the American producers are
eating their shorts for a chance to cast him in one of their movies. He's done four, so far, and I've seen every
one of them. He's so darned
delicious! Why he chose to do a zombie
apocalypse movie, I can't imagine, but I'm glad he did, because ...
... here I am, draped halfway outside a concrete stairwell
leading down to some kind of bunker thing, my eyes open in a perfect death
stare, when Kristian Hansen walked past me.
THREE FEET AWAY! Oh my God, he was
as cute in person as he is in the movies.
From where I'm stretched out on the ground, I could see him standing there,
checking out all of us dead zombies.
The director was standing next to Kristian. "Cameras, get in position, please. Mr. Hansen, are you ready?"
I began to chuckle. I
don't know why I thought it was so funny.
But Director Napoleon was sucking up to Kristian Hansen in a painfully obvious
way, and it just made me laugh. Kristian
noticed and glanced over at me. He smirked
a little, so I knew he thought it was funny too.
He lifted his arm and pointed down the stairwell. "That's my spot, right?"
I gulped. When Kristian
lifted his arm, his t-shirt gapped open and I could see right up to his
armpit. Just the tiniest tuft of light
brown hair. Oh, damn, he was scrumptious.
Kristian's voice cracked in the sweetest way when he said,
"I'm ready to go. Let's do this!" Then he walked down the stairway, glancing
over at me with a shy smile. Our eyes
connected. My brain shut down. Kristian F'ing Hansen!! He continued down the stairs and waited at
the bottom next to the door.
The director activated his bullhorn again. "Listen up, everyone. Mr. Hansen will be making his entrance in the
next filming sequence. He will climb up the
stairwell and collapse on top of one of our zombies, apparently having been
shot in the back by the invaders.
Zombies in ALL ZONES will remain DEAD AND UNMOVING until I yell
CUT!"
Because the director was three feet away from me, my ears were
ringing.
But my stomach was turning somersaults. This was soooo cool. Kristian Hansen was going to come up this
stairway and die next to us! Then I
remembered what the director said. Kristian
will be collapsing on top of one of us zombies. It would be amazing if he chose me as his
final zombie resting place, but the girl with the big boobs would probably get
the honor. He's a teenager after
all. What teenager wouldn't choose
breasts to cushion his fall?
"Annnndddd ... ACTION!"
The director yelled.
The camera guys started slowly walking behind us, filming
all the dead zombies scattered out around the bunker.
I caught movement out of the corner of one eye. I saw Kristian sneaking up the stairway,
looking around, terrified. Poor
kid. He was all alone, nowhere to hide,
with death all around him. He dashed halfway
up the stairwell, groaned and arched his back in agony, the victim of a
sniper's bullet, no doubt! Special
effects would add the explosions later, I decided. But ... DAMN, Kristian was an incredible actor! You could see the anguish in his face and
feel his suffering!
Then it happened. He
fell over, dead. ON TOP OF ME!
I grunted and moaned softly.
Besides being caught completely by surprise, he sort of smacked my balls
when he fell over on me.
But I didn't move. I
was proud of myself. I was supposed to
be dead, and I was doing a great job of it, despite the fact that Kristian Hansen
was draped across my body. His head was
on my chest, his eyes staring into mine.
I could feel our warm bellies pressed together, both of us breathing
slowly. And—I couldn't fucking believe
this—his groin was right on top of mine.
All our boy bits were smashed together.
An airplane roared through the sky above us. Its shadow passed over us.
"CUT! Damn it!" the
director screamed. "Let's try that
again. Blasted airplanes!"
It seemed there weren't supposed to be any airplanes flying
over the zombie killing fields in this movie.
Kristian pushed off me.
His eyes locked onto mine. I couldn't
be sure, but he seemed to be smirking just a bit.
"You were brilliant, Mr. Hansen," the director oozed. "Same intensity. Same fear.
Zombie guy ... try not to move when he falls on you this time."
He was talking to me, apparently. I thought I had been pretty good. Hell, I thought I was great. You try having the cutest kid in the planet
land in the middle of you and not move.
We repeated the scene, and this time, I made damned sure I didn't
move. I knew Kristian was gonna land on
top of me, so I was ready for it. He
managed to miss my balls the second time, so it was easier to stay frozen. He collapsed on me, his cheek pressed into my
chest, his belly pushing gently against me as he breathed, his boy parts
settling down on top of mine, making themselves comfortable. I was in heaven.
Clouds passed in front of the morning sun.
"DAMN IT!!" the director shouted. "What happened to the sun? Keep rolling.
Wait for the clouds to pass."
So we stayed right where we were. Kristian Hansen on top of me. I was dead, but my eyes were wide open,
locked on his. I saw the faintest grin
on his lips.
Then I felt it.
Something poking my dick.
Something hard and getting harder.
Kristian smiled a little more. His hips moved just the tiniest bit,
thrusting against me. There was
definitely something hard down there, poking me, and my dick betrayed me, as it
so often does, responding to the poke by chubbing up.
Kristian could tell.
How could he miss it? He was
smiling even more now.
The clouds disappeared.
The sun came out. The director was
happy again. He had the cameras moving
all around us, catching us doing nothing but dying.
"Okay, Mr. Hansen," the director whispered, "and ... ACTION!"
Kristian stopped smiling and began looking around, just his
eyes, desperately hoping no one would notice he wasn't really dead, wanting to fool
his pursuers, knowing it was his only chance to survive unscathed. The cameras moved closer. Closer.
But I was the closest to Kristian.
I was amazed at the terror he was emoting, all the time his boner was
pushing into mine. How did he do
that? He really was an incredible actor!
"Okay ... Mr. Hansen, hold your position. Cameras pan out. Zombies stay perfectly still."
Kristian was no longer terrified. Now his eyes were squinting just a bit as he
slowly humped me. I could feel his boner
pushing against mine as he slowly moved his hips on top of me. I moaned.
He groaned. I felt it
coming. I couldn't stop it. I bit my lips and my body tensed underneath
him. I felt the spasms and my cock
lurching as I filled my underwear with cum.
Kristian stopped moving and pushed down hard. Then he blew out his breath slowly.
`What the hell!?' I thought. `Did Kristian Hansen just use me
to get his nut off?'
"CUT!" the director yelled.
"That's a wrap! Good job
everyone."
The end of AMAZINGLY ORDINARY, Chapter One