In your studies, you will have the opportunity to
observe firsthand many of the oddities to be
found in the natural and preternatural worlds.
Possibly the strangest and the most ubiquitous, is
the common animated corpse—the zombie. The
animate is the oldest of the class of unliving
forms, having made its initial appearance some
two hundred years ago. Since virtually the
moment of its appearance, the scientific mind has
struggled to understand the mysteries of this
phenomenon. Where did it come from? What are
its causes? What is the principle that imbues an
ordinary clay corpse with movement and the
appetite for the living flesh of men? Despite two
hundred years of earnest inquiry, the answers
are still far from clear. The animate—the zombie—remains to us nearly as mysterious as now as
they were to the first scientist who ever brought a
scalpel to bear on that rotten. unliving flesh.
The biology of the zombie itself is extremely interesting. We will review later in this class the
physiological changes that can be observed in a bitten individual. These alterations, beginning in
the later stages of the infection, transform the physiological attributes of the human material into
the unusual adaptations observable in the physiology of the new animate. The creature's tendons
become stiff, giving a rigidity to the frame that is readily apparent in its movements. The bones
grow dense and heavy, particularly in the face and jaw, the muscles becoming tense and corded.
Over time, the teeth will break away from the jaw during use, leaving a jagged edge of extremely
durable bone that is used in biting. Overall the creature is strong and very durable, having
tremendous strength especially in the hands and jaw, but lacking somewhat in agility. A new
animate can move at a slow run and retains some ability to climb but lacks the manual dexterity
to do so much as work a doorknob. The senses are as they were in the human prior to death with
the exception of the sense of smell, which becomes exceptionally acute. If the animate is denied
opportunities to feed, these abilities will decline, leaving the zombie as little more than a slow,
shambling husk.
The decline of a starved animate has been well documented in numerous labs. The process is
not dissimilar to ordinary decomposition save that the process occurs much more slowly. A fresh
animate, kept captive and deprived of opportunities to feed, will maintain its full speed and
strength for up to several years. Over time, the small encroachments of decomposition and
desiccation will take their toll. As the muscles decay, the creature will lose strength and speed.
The eyes and the soft tissues of the nose rot, depriving the creature of sight and smell. The skin
will tighten over dry bones and desiccated muscle, giving the creature the appearance of a
walking mummy or skeleton. At last, the creature's dry bones and ligaments will become too
fragile to support the weight of the monster, and the creature will cease to move.
You may observe all this for yourself.
[Here, the Professor makes a gesture, and a cage is wheeled onto the podium. Inside is an
animate of great age. Decomposition is far advanced in this specimen. The face is a staring skull,
eyes shriveled, nose decayed to the bone. The skin is grey parchment stretched over bone,
beneath which desiccated muscles writhe abominably. The creature moves awkwardly within the
cage; the head lifts and turns, seemingly testing the air. The creature lurches forward, straining
against the bars of the cage, striving to throw itself forward into the front rows of students. It
makes no sound.
The students in the front rows start and cry out. Several drop their books and flee. The professor
continues.]
From a transcript of the introductory lecture
given by Prof. Jacob Highman at the
University of London, last autumn term.
and 