The middle of nowhere is always the middle of somewhere on the map, the middle of this somewhere is deep in the rural forest of New England. Not off the map as one would think, but secluded to the point where one can escape the rush of traffic and the doldrums of office life.
Quiet.
This is where one finds a balance of nature within, a certain level of tranquility with the world around you that can only be described as bliss. Life moves slower here, people breath deep, if you stay long enough you may not want to leave.
Calm.
Through the labyrinth of trees, taking comfort under the shade next to the lake rests a log cabin. From a distance it looks to be made of the same wooden log toys one played with as a kid.
Peaceful.
These are exactly the reasons Tim Macame moved here, he’s not sure how long his stay will be but with little in the way of electricity and only the basic amenities the hardball corporate life is fading into a distant memory.
Chaos.
The back door to the cabin burst open as Tim darts in breathing heavy like a race horse, sweating profusely off his round bread role body and chubby cherub cheeks. As fast as Tim bursts in he is frantic to shut and lock the door behind him, his presently plump weight gives him extra push to slam the door shut but his slipper digits betray him from locking the door.
A strong kick back from the door pushing from the other side knocks Tim back a step. This extra thrust is enough for a hand to reach in, craving much of what Tim has, flesh. Not the hand so specifically but raging ragged dead, biting and clawing it’s way to get in. Drool from the beast spills out of its mouth as it roars in it’s feeding fever trying to get in. Tim is holding the creature out, but he is tired, too much running from things like this today, exhaustion has taken its toil, but the nightmare continues to bark down the door does not letting up its pursuit.
Tim eyes the shotgun on the counter, the weapon is just out of his reach, holding the door and stretching out to reach is the only way to end this. Tim places both palms of his hand on the door, and uses his foot as a stopper with his forehead pressed against the door staring at the creature he utters the words “you suck”.
Spinning around Tim reaches out with his right hand for the gun but the motion has caused the gun to move further away. He grunts with frustration extending his arms out further giving the nightmare enough leeway to push the door open some more, Tim catches the door with his left hand whitening the knuckles at the strength of his grip.
The nightmare bites, “ARGH! FUCK!” Tim screams, the pain is enough incentive to lunge back and grab the shotgun. With the nightmare's mouth still clinging to Tim’s hand, Tim puts the barrel of the shot gun right in the creatures face and pulls the trigger.
Bang.
The sound of the gun on such a quiet day can be heard for miles, but all of those who would be startled are dead. The door is shut and the gun lays smoking on the floor. Pain who’s threshold ranges from a slight pricking inconvenience to a thrusting spear whose only relief is death. Tim is too shocked to decide which he feels; he stands motionless pale face by the horror that has occurred.
“That didn’t go well” Tim unclenches his left hand that had been tucked under his arm pit, or what is left of his hand.
“Not even enough left to flip someone off” his monotone humor was enough to give him a smirk before collapsing.
Sleep.
What felt like hours to Tim were really only minuets, he awoke dazed in a cold sweet but well enough to stand. Like a zombie, Tim went through the motions of preparing a pot of baked beans, he is not infected nor will he turn into one of those nightmares, he’s just hungry. Tim continues his making his gourmet feast still babying his decrypt hand, Tim add some spice to his meal by taking out what he calls “his little helpers”, several bottles of pills that include high dosages of multi vitamins, calcium and a jug of water.
Prepared and served, he sits at the table eating the beans out of the pot he cooked in, spooning mouth full after mouth full with his right hand. Although still the sloppy antics of an over weight compulsive eater, Tim’s face and wonder bread rolls have significantly slenderer since earlier today.
Tim picks up his jug of water and chugs gulp and gulp, leaving little room for air until it is empty. A sigh of comfort and relief expunges from Tim followed by a well desired burp.
Tim looks at his left hand which is not so decrepit now, “almost done”, short of a boney figure and a opened splotch, Tim’s hand had almost entirely grown back. Not surprising to Tim as this is his bodies natural ability, in lies the reason for his more to love physic. It’s not that he doesn’t care what goes into his body, it’s more of make sure that when something comes off, it grows back.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Zombies - Blood Queen
Scarlet lays spread out on her bed, a naked goddess waiting to be scarified. She takes another drag and blows smoke rings one inside the other, tits she calls them and sucking the life from some real ones is what she desires.
An alarm in her room goes off, she wets at the buzzing sound; “play time” she says. While the alarm is perfectly capable of going off on its own, the device has been cleverly rewired with an electrical board and other wires labeled “go green,” these wires weave up to the top of a seven story apartment building where it’s connected to a solar power panel. The panel heats the cell of water vapors inside causing them to move about, thus moving electricity into the basement of the building where it’s then stored. Although the true nature of this modified device is to act as a sun dial, to tell Scarlet when the sun has gone out of view.
The water from below jets out and Scarlet’s body is bathed in a variety of sweet spices, a women of stunning beauty and a well endowed chest does not need such trifles to attract her pray; but goes through the motions because she likes it. Makeup on the other hand can sometimes be a chore, a rather difficult task when you have no reflection. But after touching every inch of your body over and over again, thousands of nights when it never ages, you get to know it pretty well.
Sunglasses at night only add to her allure as she gazes out from over them, Scarlet sticks a naked leg out from underneath her coat and waves “Taxi!” Even in a major city the cabbies all stop for this red headed bombshell. She gets into the cab; the smell of curry is overpowered by the sent of her fragrant hair.
“The Smell of Sex” she says calmly.
Even the Taxi driver’s hands are sweating from her words, “I'm sorry where are you going?”
“The Smell of Sex, it's a club over on 4th”, she remains emotionless.
Thunderous sounds of techno can be heard down the street, her taxi pulls to the front and she steps out a movie star. The line is long but Scarlet takes no second look, the bouncer only smiles and un-clips the reins to let her in. She giggles to herself, "I've been so patient this week" she licks her lips showing off her sharp fanged teeth, "time to eat."
An alarm in her room goes off, she wets at the buzzing sound; “play time” she says. While the alarm is perfectly capable of going off on its own, the device has been cleverly rewired with an electrical board and other wires labeled “go green,” these wires weave up to the top of a seven story apartment building where it’s connected to a solar power panel. The panel heats the cell of water vapors inside causing them to move about, thus moving electricity into the basement of the building where it’s then stored. Although the true nature of this modified device is to act as a sun dial, to tell Scarlet when the sun has gone out of view.
The water from below jets out and Scarlet’s body is bathed in a variety of sweet spices, a women of stunning beauty and a well endowed chest does not need such trifles to attract her pray; but goes through the motions because she likes it. Makeup on the other hand can sometimes be a chore, a rather difficult task when you have no reflection. But after touching every inch of your body over and over again, thousands of nights when it never ages, you get to know it pretty well.
Sunglasses at night only add to her allure as she gazes out from over them, Scarlet sticks a naked leg out from underneath her coat and waves “Taxi!” Even in a major city the cabbies all stop for this red headed bombshell. She gets into the cab; the smell of curry is overpowered by the sent of her fragrant hair.
“The Smell of Sex” she says calmly.
Even the Taxi driver’s hands are sweating from her words, “I'm sorry where are you going?”
“The Smell of Sex, it's a club over on 4th”, she remains emotionless.
Thunderous sounds of techno can be heard down the street, her taxi pulls to the front and she steps out a movie star. The line is long but Scarlet takes no second look, the bouncer only smiles and un-clips the reins to let her in. She giggles to herself, "I've been so patient this week" she licks her lips showing off her sharp fanged teeth, "time to eat."
Zombies - a Necrophilia’s dream
“I’m so fucking hard right now.” said Geoffrey dazed over his dream becoming reality.
Reality, it’s a dream for some, and a nightmare for others. The nightmare is what Lisa is hoping to wake from and while “I’m so fucking hard right now” is a line from Lisa’s favorite fantasy romance novel it is far from what she wants to hear.
Lisa looks back to see if her nightmares still follow her. "Ah!" she tearfully screams "someone fucking help me!"
Geoffrey's bubbled dream is blown harder at the site of Lisa running towards him seeing Lisa’s nightmare chasing after her. If Lisa knew what state of mind Geoffrey was in, she would agree; she would be better off facing her chasing nightmare to be devoured.
A shattering rip of sound whips through the air as Geoffrey’s gun makes a needle pricking precision shot into Lisa head.
“Not a miss” Geoffrey thinks to himself, the bullet enters smooth and clean through Lisa temple, chewing through the memories of her life; her first kiss, her grandmother's death, moving into her apartment, running away from all of this and out the crack in the back of her head.
Bullets fly and not being satisfied with just one death, this speeding bullet enters gunk filled mind of Lisa’s nightmare! Disappointingly, Lisa’s nightmare is already dead, sort of dead, more like undead, although now really dead. The reanimated nightmare of dead is now still and his blood clots out in chunks. Lisa’s body remains lifeless and much to her dismay the physical blow and shock has separated her soul with her body, she stands as a ghost looking down at her broken body.
“This day really suck” Lisa speech is useless now. She talks to know one but her self, but continues to do so over the shock over her own dead.
Geoffrey skipped over almost joyously to his two victims.
“You asshole you where suppose to shoot him!” Lisa yelled when nothing could be heard.
“Ha! Mine!” Geoffrey yelled at the deceased living dead. A school boy with a new toy, Geoffrey sticks his tongue out, biting it as he flips Lisa’s body over.
Lisa’s soul is confused, “what the hell are you doing? Aren’t you going to burry me at least?”
“Well can’t do this here” Geoffrey tucks the gun into his shirt, “no telling when another one of those things could circle about.” He picks up her legs and drags her along the ground, “you and I are going back to the Morgue.” A sales pitch and a promise, Geoffrey smiles and gives a wink to Lisa. Lisa is quite literally in her own world of the dead, she can watch, touch, yell, pout, but her ghostly manifestation is to at this point invisible to all and has no physical bearing on the world of the living.
“Oh good, well at least he’s taking me to the Morgue” all she can do is watch, sadly her naïve mind which has been blown out the back of her head, can not comprehend the true insidious nature that Geoffrey has for her physical body. The only thing she can concentrate on is how she appreciates Geoffrey for dragging her on her back so that her face doesn’t get messed up, “Its better this way since my hair is already a mess.”
Reality, it’s a dream for some, and a nightmare for others. The nightmare is what Lisa is hoping to wake from and while “I’m so fucking hard right now” is a line from Lisa’s favorite fantasy romance novel it is far from what she wants to hear.
Lisa looks back to see if her nightmares still follow her. "Ah!" she tearfully screams "someone fucking help me!"
Geoffrey's bubbled dream is blown harder at the site of Lisa running towards him seeing Lisa’s nightmare chasing after her. If Lisa knew what state of mind Geoffrey was in, she would agree; she would be better off facing her chasing nightmare to be devoured.
A shattering rip of sound whips through the air as Geoffrey’s gun makes a needle pricking precision shot into Lisa head.
“Not a miss” Geoffrey thinks to himself, the bullet enters smooth and clean through Lisa temple, chewing through the memories of her life; her first kiss, her grandmother's death, moving into her apartment, running away from all of this and out the crack in the back of her head.
Bullets fly and not being satisfied with just one death, this speeding bullet enters gunk filled mind of Lisa’s nightmare! Disappointingly, Lisa’s nightmare is already dead, sort of dead, more like undead, although now really dead. The reanimated nightmare of dead is now still and his blood clots out in chunks. Lisa’s body remains lifeless and much to her dismay the physical blow and shock has separated her soul with her body, she stands as a ghost looking down at her broken body.
“This day really suck” Lisa speech is useless now. She talks to know one but her self, but continues to do so over the shock over her own dead.
Geoffrey skipped over almost joyously to his two victims.
“You asshole you where suppose to shoot him!” Lisa yelled when nothing could be heard.
“Ha! Mine!” Geoffrey yelled at the deceased living dead. A school boy with a new toy, Geoffrey sticks his tongue out, biting it as he flips Lisa’s body over.
Lisa’s soul is confused, “what the hell are you doing? Aren’t you going to burry me at least?”
“Well can’t do this here” Geoffrey tucks the gun into his shirt, “no telling when another one of those things could circle about.” He picks up her legs and drags her along the ground, “you and I are going back to the Morgue.” A sales pitch and a promise, Geoffrey smiles and gives a wink to Lisa. Lisa is quite literally in her own world of the dead, she can watch, touch, yell, pout, but her ghostly manifestation is to at this point invisible to all and has no physical bearing on the world of the living.
“Oh good, well at least he’s taking me to the Morgue” all she can do is watch, sadly her naïve mind which has been blown out the back of her head, can not comprehend the true insidious nature that Geoffrey has for her physical body. The only thing she can concentrate on is how she appreciates Geoffrey for dragging her on her back so that her face doesn’t get messed up, “Its better this way since my hair is already a mess.”
The Suck, leads to writing
I am at the point with my job where I am almost sick and tired of everything about it. Sure I love the people I work with, and the core components of my job (the writing part) can be fun. But it has come to the point where the thick layer of bullshit is just driving me crazy!
If I could do any job in the world what do I want to do...
Design web sites, video games or write fiction.
That about sums it up, out of everything in the world, that’s what I’d like to be paid to do, so I’ve decided, why not start one now?
I am going to write in this blog anything and everything that comes into my head in terms of fiction, when a story starts to begin I’ll run with it, when I get stuck on a subject, I’ll jump to something else, as long as I’m pouring my mind into something other than this suck job.
If I could do any job in the world what do I want to do...
Design web sites, video games or write fiction.
That about sums it up, out of everything in the world, that’s what I’d like to be paid to do, so I’ve decided, why not start one now?
I am going to write in this blog anything and everything that comes into my head in terms of fiction, when a story starts to begin I’ll run with it, when I get stuck on a subject, I’ll jump to something else, as long as I’m pouring my mind into something other than this suck job.
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