The corpses lie in rows across the matted and festering grass. At the end of each row grows what you could only describe as a tree, if forced. However, growing down from each tree is a saggy, bulbous tube, positioned over the head of the first corpse in the row.

  Suddenly, the trees simultaneously convulse, letting out a miserable retching sound. From the openings of the tubes a clear, yet rancid, liquid splashes out sloppily.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  With gasps of delight, the first corpses in each row wake up, greedily swallowing the liquid over several more dousings. After the trees are done, the corpses sigh contendedly before twisting their heads to repeat the regurgitation onto their closest neighbors.

  When they are done, one by one, each row locks eyes with you, manic grins stitched on each of their faces.