Sunday, May 5, 2013

Z is for Baby Laura lay in bed as sweat beds formed on her face and chest. She was nine months pregnant and was starting to show signs of going into labor. Her husband had to tie her to the bed; she had been bitten by one of the crazies in town recently. No one was sure what they were. Some people started to attack others, and the disease had spread like wildfire. The town came together and killed them all, except Laura. Her husband had kept her being the fact that she was bitten a secret. Laura was not coherent anymore; she was an animal. Her family hoped the baby would be fine, so they continued to hide her. She looked up at her husband; foam dribbled down her chin. She snarled and snapped when he tried to force food into her mouth. He had to keep her alive for now, but was worried about what to do with her once the baby was born. How long could he keep her tied up? Night had set in, and Laura reverted back into a calm trance-like state. Emotionless, she stared up at the ceiling. She was quiet; instincts told her something was about to be born. Her family had drifted off to sleep except for one. The baby was coming. He was not aware of what he was, just that he was hungry. He saw an opening and reached for it with his little hands. Pushing his small body as hard as he could, he struggled and finally came out of his mother. Now crawling along the sheets, he felt something tug at him. He was stuck. Looking down, he noticed the source of the problem: a cord was attached to his stomach and he could go no farther. He ground his teeth together. So hungry, he thought. His small hands held the cord up, and he chewed through the skin, releasing himself. Hunger was making his little tummy ache; baby needed food. Scurrying along the floor, he went to his brothers’ and sisters’ rooms. They were all asleep. He climbed up into each of their beds and took small bites out of them. His teeth where small and sharp, so they slid into flesh so smooth and delicate. Each child flinched but did not wake up. Having his fill of blood and flesh, he was satisfied and crawled back into the bedroom to be with mommy. He snuggled up next to her and fell asleep. In the morning, the father awoke and noticed he heard no children’s voices in the house. Normally by this hour, they were up and moving about. He went to their bedrooms and saw they were all still in bed. When he touched them, he realized they were all burning up with fever. He noticed small bites on their arms and necks. They were infected, but how? he thought. Daddy ran down the hall to his wife’s room and opened the door. His wife was still tied to the bed and looked up at him blankly. Next to her lay a small body. He picked up the baby and held him tight to his bare chest. He felt a small prick and looked down. The baby looked up at him with milky white eyes, and blood dripped down his chin. The father held him closer. Sobbing, he muttered, “It’s a boy, Laura.”

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Slacking

I've been slacking with this blog. I put my writing on hold for awhile so I could just have some free time to myself to just think. I feel like I've been watching my life through a key hole. I'm starting to feel inspired again so wish me luck.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

A Cure for the World. Sample from Twisted Tales of Terror

A Cure for the World I removed the needle from my arm and sighed, relieved that I’d finally developed the right serum. So long had I been stuck in my homemade lab trying to find the right formula. Those idiots I worked for at Biotropy had fired me for not following company procedures. They had other plans for my research, but I had my own agenda. They said I was self-destructive and walked me out. What did they know? Everyone in the world would see what I had created, and understand what I’d accomplished. I smiled and blotted the blood off of my arm with a cotton ball, certain that everything would be fine. I’d really done it this time; the lab rats reacted favorably to the final tests I performed. Stupid assholes at Biotropy had no idea I had snuck several samples out from under their noses. But what did it matter? This was my creation. And I’d use it how I originally intended. I sat down and felt the warmth of the injected liquid coursing through my body. Just relax and let it do the job. I’ve discovered the cure for mankind. I couldn’t wait to share it with the world. Suddenly my blood felt like it was boiling. Sweat poured down my face. I screamed in agony, dropped to the floor and began to convulse. “Take the pain; this is for the good of mankind,” I moaned out loud and then passed out. When I woke, my body screamed with aches. I pulled myself up off the floor. Fever had set in, and my legs wobbled as I walked. Looking up at the clock on the wall, I saw that I’d been passed out for the entire evening. Hints of sunlight beamed though the curtains. I smacked my lips. They were dry; I needed something to drink. It took me a while in my weakened state to make it up the basement stairs. Once in the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of water and hungrily consumed it. I noticed that my hand had red splotches on it. I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. They were all over my body. Already. That was fast, I thought. Still burning up, I splashed cool water on my face. My long black hair was making the heat worse, so I pulled it back into a ponytail. I noticed my eyes had developed reddish lines around the irises. How strange; I had never noticed this symptom. My clothes were covered in sweat, so I decided to change before I went out. Time to let them know about my discovery. I tried to drive as fast as I could, but my eyesight was getting blurry. I wondered if this was normal. I pulled the car over and got out. At least I’d made it downtown. So many people were walking around at this time of day. I began to walk as well. The sidewalk was so packed with people that I kept brushing up against others and would graze their hands with mine. Some people looked at me strangely, probably because the blotches on my hands had gotten worse. I’m sure my face looked the same. My throat began to burn and fill up with mucus. I started to cough like crazy, and saliva flew into the air. More people began to look at me. This was all happening so fast. I had to make it to Biotropy. I kept walking and bumping into crowds of people; it was a game of human bumper cars. I laughed a little. I wiped the mucus away with my hand as it dripped out of my nose. One man looked at me with disgust. I reached out for him, and he backed away. I needed help to get to the lab, because my eyes were watering so much as to impair my vision. I coughed harder. Someone spoke to me. “Do you need some help?” It was a male voice. “Yes, please. I’m trying to make it to Biotropy labs. Can you help me?” I asked. He took my hand and guided me. He spoke, but I did not listen to his words until he asked me, “Is this the place?” I could barely see the front of the building. My legs went numb, and I fell to the ground. The stranger asked if I was OK. I could feel a wedding ring on his hand. “I’m here, thank you. Go home to your wife and kiss her,” I said. He released his hand from mine, and I smiled. I could hear a familiar voice. “Ms. Smith, are you OK? It’s Hal from the front desk. I saw you as I was walking into the building.” I was coughing like crazy as Hal tried to help me up. Someone yelled, “Dial nine-one-one!” Then I blacked out. I woke up in a hospital bed and could hear people chattering. I gathered that they had no idea what was wrong with me. I tried to lift my head and could see blurry images of other patients around me in the ER. I coughed again and tasted blood in my throat. I moaned. The pain was so bad I could hardly take it anymore. The nurse put a needle in my arm, and I started to feel numb. I was glad; the pain was getting to be too much. Trying to remember … Did I make it to the lab? Then a memory flashed of Hal helping me. I remember him walking back into the lab after he’d had contact with me. Good, I thought. I was let go from the lab because of the kind of research I was doing with a virus. This particular virus had almost killed off an entire monkey species. My co-workers discovered that I was trying to create a form of it that would infect humans. The virus in monkeys had no cure: 100% airborne and lethal, except in the case of a few monkeys that had a natural immunity. Biotropy had no idea that I had taken samples home and created a virus that would cleanse this wretched world. We needed a cure for the human race and a fresh start. I had infected enough people today to cause a world pandemic. They had no idea what I had unleashed upon the world. I laughed as I began choking on my blood. As I faded away, I could hear someone say, “She’s delusional and laughing from the fever.” If they only knew. Soon the world would know.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The Dark Man

I live in fear of the faceless thing. Its evil and not a human being. He seems to always be watching me. I never feel completely free. His name is the Dark Man. For me he has an evil plan. He comes from some void. Trying to plague, with typhoid. He always appears from behind. Black cold fingers, reach into my mind. A chill surges through my body. Paralyzed until released, brain choppy. Dark Man wants something from me. Face is tar, formless, I can never see. A blur of darkness, sticky and terrifying. He’ll take me to a place, that’s dark and chilly.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Help me.

So cold. Bleary, dark consumes. Horrid buzzing. Sound vibrating body. Aware, can not speak. lips stuck. Delirious confusion. Where am I? Body is numb. Can't feel anything. Eyes covered with film. Why can't I move? Flash, a vivid light! I can see, covered in plastic. There's a man. He looks at me. He touches and laughs. I hear a crunch. He speaks, "Almost frozen." Door slams, I see nothing. No screams or escape. I'm being murdered. By the man I loved. Help me!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Murder Poems

I've been writing alot of murder poems lately and ran across this story. Banaz Muhmod was murdered by by her family for loving another man and not going through her pre-arranged marriage. The scary thing is she looks like me. I'll include the link. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-461378/The-tragic-story-Banaz-Mahmod--fell-love-19-family-killed-her.html

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Beauty Must Die

Smooth hands glide over my face. His touch sends, tingling vibes. He leans closer and kisses my red lips. Cold lips touch mine. I shiver with anticipation. Releasing he moves behind me. In a drunken daze, I fall back into him. He whispers, “Beauty must die.” My hair was grabbed and pulled back. Exposing my white neck. I remained still, anticipating. Feeling a quick pinch. Wet warmth flowed. Gagging for air. He held me tight. Fainting away, I heard. “I love you.”