Night of the Living Rev
On All Hallows’ Eve, as the full moon rises above campus, 32 adorable but decayed little paws pop out of the graveyard just north of Kyle Field and begin to claw their way back into the world of the living. The eight deceased Cadet Generals have awoken and begun their quest for revenge, brains, and kibble.
A couple sits in a parked car in Lot 62. They are oblivious to the rebirth of the dead dogs, who exhume themselves from the loamy soil and approach the parked car like a pack of wolves. The Reveilles move like a synchronized unit, but they are a motley crew of various breeds from a time before the university settled on one specific breed to sell more easily recognizable merchandise. The couple kisses passionately, barely listening to the old car radio, which feels like a deliberate anachronism in modern times. The radio fades to static, and the couple, for the first time, is made aware of their surroundings. “We should go,” the girl says, pulling on her costume, a ‘50s style poodle skirt that matches the boy’s greaser outfit. The boy sighs, then turns his keys in the ignition. Reveille I, remembering an old trick from her past life, darts in front of the car and lays down. The couple feels the car hit something. They hear a sickening crunch and the boy slams on the brakes. The girl screams. They open their doors and run to see what is beneath their wheels, then the seven other Reveilles approach and make a snarling attack. The dog pack has started its rounds on campus.
Later, a group of girls decides they are too quirky to go to a traditional college Halloween party and dress up as a “sexy” variation of something, so they instead spend this spooky night on top of West Campus Garage. They are all vibing, carefree as they hold a dance party to Mambo No. 5. While the girls are lost in the rhythm, the approaching sounds of crackling, aged dog bones hitting the cement fade into the music. One of the girls finally notices the darkened shadow of a beast made bigger by the lights atop the parking garage. She turns around to see this newly awakened Reveille, too far away to smell the scent of death emanating from the mangled fur. “OMG guys!! Look, look!!! It’s Rev!!” the girl squeals to her other friends, still unaware. She motions toward the shadowed Reveille, allowing the fellow dead dogs to creep in closer on the girls, with their eyes glowing red with vengeance. One girl reaches Reveille and begins to pet her. With horror, she realizes the majority of Reveille’s fur is missing and that the skin is pulled haphazardly over a mess of rotting bones. “This isn’t-” the girl starts to scream as Reveille lunges, biting her neck off. The fellow Reveilles jump out of the shadows. In that moment, all those years of canine Corps training kick in, and they pounce on the other students, ending their lives in similar ways. The dance party ends in loud, shrill screams, and bodies surrounded by pools of blood. WAP plays on with no one remaining to dance to it.
A lanky freshman walks back to his dorm alone, his arms full of Legos. He has not yet realized that deodorant is not optional and has no friends to walk with him through the night. His mind is not on the Legos or even campus, but on the topic of his parents deciding to replace him with a Bichon Frise the moment their only child went to college. More than a feeling of being replaced, the smelly freshman feels he has been rejected, as his severe dog allergies will prevent him from returning home for more than a few hours at a time. Soon, his childhood bedroom will be transformed into a home gym, complete with a treadmill that would only be used as a clothes rack. He feels a familiar tickle in his nose, then he sneezes. That was weird. He’d only been thinking about the crusty-eyed, four-legged replacement; there were no dogs around! Unbeknownst to him, the rebirthed Reveilles watch him hungrily from the shadows. He sneezes again, then lifts his disgusting sleeve to wipe away the snot. As he lowers his head to wipe his nose, the dogs spring into action. Legos fly in the air, then scatter across the pavement.
As the first rays of sunlight kiss the skyline of campus, the Reveilles begin to retrace their steps, then dig their way back into the earth for another hibernation, waiting for next Halloween.
— Ring Chunks & Midnight Smell
