Eneter the father, the president

What I saw next horrified me. More women in suits and sunglasses entered, but that wasn't what caught my attention. Led by a leash, hands behind his back (presumably handcuffed), his legs also cuffed together only allowing enough wiggle room to walk, was the president of the fucking U S of A! In his suit. Oh my god. This was not good. His eyes were burning with rage, and most notably, normal. Not white. He snarled. He would probably have shouted, were it not for the gag in his mouth. He was **** to his knees before us by the women in suits.

I nearly fainted but tender hands grabbed my face from behind the throne, comforting me. Stroking my cheek. I took deep breaths. Yeah. Ok... Don't panic. The most powerful man in the world is currently on his knees in front of you boiling with rage and wanting to send every FBI, CIA, FDA god knows what to **** my ass. Yeah, no need to panic at all. I told myself. Damned Zombies. And these FBI Zombies. Or Zombies in suits. No wait. I had a better name. Suit Zombies.

To my horror, the suit Zombies untied the cloth gag, allowing the man to speak. "YOU! Who the fuck are you? What the hell is going on? If you don't speak..." He let the threat hang in the air. He finally spotted his daughter his eyes wide. I didn't know if this was the first time he saw the Zombie eyes, since you couldn't see the eyes of the Suit Zombies behind their black sunglasses.

Maybe he saw his daughter loose her free will before being dragged away. Maybe this was his first time seeing her like this and he thought it was just a ****. Maybe he didn't know what that his daughter was missing before now? So many questions.

"Speak! God damn it! Or are you mute too you evil bonzo?!" He shouted. "What happened to my Kelly? Kelly! It's me! Papa! Snap out of it! What the hell are you doing here naked? What happened to your eyes?!" He shouted at her, but no response. Oh, right. I can talk to him. I reminded myself. He can actually talk back. This last day with the Zombies I hadn't really spoken much. Mostly because I was shocked. One crazy thing after another had me gaping, but not speaking. And the Zombies wouldn't respond anyway, so I hadn't talked much if anything.

"I.. I don't know sir! I'm as much prisoner as you." I said to him. "Bullshit!" He spat back at me. "Look! Goddamn it! I'm restrained. I'm trapped to this throne. I'm not some evil overlord. You got to believe me." I said earnestly with a hint of panic and desperation. The kind of desperation you give off when telling the truth that you are innocent, but the jury sentences you to **** anyway. I hope this can convince him. I desperately need a partner now. Not an enemy.

My pleas are short lived however as the first daughter, whose name I just learned was Kelly, now frowns. I gulp. I sweat. Hands from behind the throne press against my moth. "mphh.... mmm... phhhh...!" come out of my mouth. It's just muffled nonsense. A hand also covers the mouth of the president, preventing him from speaking also.Oh god. I try to remember. Have one of the Zombies ever frowned? This is bad. Potentially super bad. Catastrophic.

The tension is high. At least for me and the president. Not so much for the Zombies. I feel dread. It's like one wrong breath could spell the doom of humanity. Or one wrong glance. Or a twitch of a finger could mean **** and nuclear war. I didn't doubt for a second that they would kill the president on the spot if he made one wrong move. Or kill him if I made a wrong move. And was it unthinkable to start a war against the man who executed the president? No. Not at all. And then NATO would help. Because if I executed the president, I obviously have attacked the US in some way. And for NATO they said that an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them. And I could only imagine what that would mean if I attacked the most powerful and influential military nation in that treaty.

My body was filled with dread. Either I could doom the world with world war III or I could doom the world with Zombie slavery. I was balancing on a knife's edge between the two. One twitch could decide which of those outcomes happened. And I dreaded which one.

I just sat as still as I could. Not blinking. Holding my breath.