Hair Rising, Heir Raising, Erasing
Zachary Wilton-Cough
What can I say about Zach? The first time you encounter him you will not like him a tad. I wrote him with his sheer stupidity aligned with his false cleverness. Zachary Wilton-Cough is a character as daunting as a sponge which was left to absorb vitriol until it is so poisonous, your guts instinct are to just leave it there and ran away without dealing with it or squeeze it out of the bullshit it is full of.
What can I say about Zachary? His first name starts by a Z, unlike his father. He symbolises the end of the alphabet, the end of culture, the end of love. Zach poses as a dreary dead end, the final error of an answer which no one wants.
What can I say about that ghoul? He was a child, loved and cherished. His father prioritised him above all else, left him his entire fortune (in the nightmare) yet it doesn’t explain the way he turns out to be.
When his own father found him plundering his grave, he fails to understand his son for he had given everything to him. Yet Abraham will not get any respect for whatever he gave. Zach is soulless, heartless, materialistic to the core. Zach can eat his own parents without remorse. He became a ghoul.
How to discuss with Zach in his state is an impossibility. He is a killer with a gain and aim which render your murder negligible compared to his fast feasting reward with your bones.
Of course Zachary is a metaphor for the worst, we encounter in our century. Explained or not, Zach is a threat which will cull without a reasoning heart, swearing to whoever, just mass murdering.
Zachary is a brainwashed fool, a ghoul, a killer: no longer a son, nor a human. Zachary meets a deadly end, the one he gave to many. However we will meet him again as his ghostly father will haunt the living in order to save his eldest son from becoming a ghoul, desperately seeking to lift the curse of Wilton Town.
Zach in quotes:
Trying to fix up the part of his flapping scalp, Zachary winked at his father with a cocky smirk as he answered,-I am not too worried for them two, for the less we are the more we feast. Apart for that missing bit of brain now don’t you think I look dashing and very well preserved, dad? I will let you into our little secret to great longevity: we eat people dead or alive, the fresher the better.
Stepping away from his son, seized by an uncontrollable shiver, Abraham was in total disarray. It dawned on him that Zachary Wilton-Cough went through his tomb: was he looking to eat his very own father? He pointed to his grave shakily then to himself repetitively a few times wanting explanations, demanding,
-Do I truly look like a happy meal to you?
Turning around his father ever so slowly, considering him as meat for the grab, making Abraham tremble of fright doing so, Zachary finally stated,
-Not as very well conserved as I expected, I am afraid. I thought your money would have bought a decent coffin with tin like quality attached to it. Yet I am very much mistaken, you are pretty much rotten all over. Your bones might still make perfect toothpicks for dirty nachos.
The terrifying Zach went to pick up a piece of Abraham’s rib that laid flat at his feet from the shooting, and put it in his mouth to illustrate his point. Then he showed a silver flask of whiskey, waving it slightly to his old man, before commenting with his brightest grin, and licking his purple lips,
-When I thought this little silver baby with it’s vintage golden content was the most precious thing I could grab from your grave, I come to the realisation that your good old bones taste like cheese straws so full of marrow they are.
Calling out his companions at once, Zachary Wilton-Cough shouted, pointing at his father,
-Guys! Snack time! Cheese straw bones down here!
Forgetting his intentions to pick up all his pieces of shattered bones within his top hat at once, Abraham legged it out of there as fast as he could.’