theblackempty's Blog

ZS, that particular take on the subject was totally unexpected and it kicked ass, well done.

Doc, you’re a busy man with a whole lot on your plate and we know it. Your show is worth waiting for so do what you got to do and when there pod cast is done, we’ll still be here waiting with great anticipation just like always.

Discovered inside a fire safe in the ruins of the City of Detroit Michigan, in the former United States of America.

***

It doesn’t matter anymore, nothing matters anymore, its over.

When all the craziness started my wife and I thought about leaving the city, but with the new baby and of course having nowhere to go, we decided to stay and tough it out. I worked day and night to fortify the house. I double boarded the windows and doors inside and out. Blacked out all of the windows so no light would shine through at night and stocked up on nonperishable’s as much as possible. The only thing I didn’t put enough thought into was escape, that was my big mistake it seems.

We should have gotten out of the city when we had the chance, there’s just to many of those things outside now to even attempt a run for the car, I know because we tried. That’s where I lost my wife, lover, mother of my only son and best friend Katherine.

I thought we had all of the bases covered, but I never even considered the fire that even now rages just a few houses down. When we saw the first of the flames over the houses across the street we knew we couldn’t stay. Those damn walking dead things never even knew we where still in the house until we made the run for the car. Maybe it was the fire that drove them out in such concentrated numbers, I don’t know.

When we were ready I went first, I had the only gun I ever owned in one hand and a little league aluminum baseball bat in the other. The gun was for Katherine to have in the house, though I think it was more for me to feel ok about leaving her there alone while I went to work everyday. She never really warmed to the idea of having a gun in the house until this mess started up. The bat was mine from my little league days, I’d really hoped to see my son Charles swing it some day.

I had checked the yard between the house and the garage before we made the attempt, only forty feet to cross to the safety of the garage. I’d left our Ford Explorer in the garage to keep it hidden from thieves and boarded up the garage just as solid as the house. Only forty feet, it might as well have been forty miles.

There had been only a few of those damn things in the yard when I checked, and we both decided it was now or never. The fire was only a few hours away at best, we could smell nothing but the putrid stench of it at that point. I had the weapons, Katherine carried a knapsack of supplies, the key to the garage and my son.

When we burst through the back door onto the driveway, the first of them saw us and made that god awful sound they make. It send chills down your spine that sound, its like nothing you ever heard before. It’s all the horrors of death itself given voice, and our reaction to it is as primal as it gets. It makes you want to cover your ears and scream as you run for your life, its almost disabling.

I had expected more of them to come from the street when we made our run. There were only a few in the yard, less than ten, and I was sure I could get through them. I never thought that they would come from behind the garage like they did, the back ally must have been choked with them.

They made splintered kindling of the privacy fence that boarded the ally when they heard the call. They came though it like a tidal wave of flesh. I had killed four of the things in the yard between us and the garage when they came through the fence. In less time than it took to cry out in terror they were on us. Retreat was the only option then and we tried to make it back to the house.

I tried, oh God please believe me I tried to save her and my son. Damn those things, damn them and he who made them.

They got hold of that damn knapsack on her back and pulled her down and away from me. I was bitten several times tiring to free her from them. Somehow I managed to pull Charles from their grasp and make it back into the house. Katherine’s screams haunted my every step, I could still hear her agonized screams as I bolted the door.

They know that we’re in here now, their relentless pounding and scratching would drive me mad before to long I’m sure. Their still trying to get to us, even now with the fire raging only a few houses away. They’ve gotten into the house through one of the front windows and we have had to retreat to the attic. They can’t get to us here and it sounds like it’s driving them insane. Given enough time I think that they might rip the entire house down to get to us. I’m not worried about that anymore, the fire will get to us long before they can.

I was bitten terribly during our escape attempt and I don’t have much time left. Miraculously, Charles was untouched and at this very moment he is looking up at his father with tear filled hope in his eight month old eyes.

I have no hope to give him, though for his sake I struggle to pretend. I gave him one last hug and begged for his forgiveness as my tears mixed with his on his precious little cheeks.

There’s only one bullet left in the gun, it’s for Charles I think, and God help me I pray for the courage to use it.

***

In the afore mentioned fire, all records of the local inhabitants of this area have been destroyed along with the city they lived in. As the writer never identified himself by name, identification is impossible. Though as this letter is added to the archive his story will be remembered and he and his family mourned, as are all those who suffered the apocalypse.

Here I go repeating myself again, but its worth a repeat anyway.
Another great show Doc!
I only wish you had the entire production crew that Library of the Living Dead deserves so much, so we could get MORE…
It still amazes me that you do this show all by your lonesome, but you do have the love and support of all the good librarians to keep you going.
And congrats to the winners…
See Doc, I’m one of those good librarians that listens to the bitter sweet end.

Peace

TBE…

That is a tough question to ask of anyone. I don’t think that I could answer that question honestly, I would have to be in that unthinkably nightmarish situation before I could even guess at my reaction. I would like to think that if I was confronted by the reanimated bodies of those that I love and there was no one left that I cared enough about to brave the apocalypse, that I would have the courage to join them in death.

TBE…

Wow, what a great take on the subject, well done ZS. It truly deserves the very best treatment that the Doc can give and you can bet that the good Doctor will do it up right.
Oh and I loved the “Pus lover” crack.
You wrote it as puss lover which is a type o I’m sure but I was still laughing my A** off.

You Pus lover you…LOL

TBE…

P.S.
I guess you could say that we’re all Pus lovers right…LOL

Well, for better or even worse...I'm in.

Exploratory

Benjamin leaned over the cadaver strapped to the gurney, his shielded face only inches from the dissected head. His eyes moved between the corpse’s motionless face, and a stopwatch in his hand. The eyes twitched beneath closed eyelids, like a sleeper in REM state. Benjamin’s eyes widened excitedly; the thing’s eyes opened slowly, focusing on him after a few seconds.
He clicked off the stopwatch and looked at the display, “Six hours, twenty six minutes and thirteen seconds,” he mumbled to the room. The limbless torso began to shift on the gurney, wet groans gurgling up from the open maw where the recently deceased’s entire jaw had been removed.

Benjamin stepped back to examine the top of the head. In preparation, he had removed the scull cap. The thing’s brain lay exposed before him, held secure by a plastic net attached to the metal band holding the head immobile. Reaching out to his instrument table, he selected a pointed stainless steel probe, and then stepped up to the glistening organ.
Studying the reanimated corpse’s face intensely for reaction, he inserted the probe into the cerebellum without result. Methodically moving forward over the brains surface, he continued his search.
“Large areas of the outer surface appear to be completely inactive,” Benjamin mumbled to the room as he paused to take a few notes. Moving to the frontal lobes, he inserted the instrument into the left frontal lobe. The reanimated cadaver’s right eye immediately twitched and rolled in reaction to the probe.
“Ah, there you are!” Benjamin said triumphantly as he gently withdrew the probe. The lobe popped like a punctured balloon, spraying a yellowish grey fluid onto his face shield. Benjamin barely twitched, as the fluid hit his shield and dripped down the clear plastic. His eyes narrowed, he watched in dismay as the body trembled and relaxed, the life fading from the eyes.
Benjamin took in a deep breath, and let it out in a disappointed sigh. “Very fragile, seems to be some swelling and considerable pressure,” he said reaching for his note pad.
After removing his protective gear and the straps securing the body, he pushed the stilled corpse out of the room. Entering into a sparsely lit hall, he turned left and pushed the gurney to an open window at the end. Benjamin reached down and pulled a lever; the gurney tipped up and spilled the corpse out of the window. He heard the thump of the body’s impact, and the following cacophony of groans that rose up from outside.
“Enjoy,” he said. Turning from the window, Benjamin walked purposefully to the far end of the hall. A pair of terrified teenage eyes looked up at him, as he opened the last door on the left. Muffled screams of protest drooled from the young boy’s gagged mouth as he struggled against the gurney straps.
“Hello,” Benjamin said, in a deadpan nice to meet you voice, “Your next.”

M. M. Johnson

This is the third story I summitted to bits of the dead, and the second to be passed on. He said he wanted to see the carnege not see other people seeing it. I understand where he's coming from, so if at first I don't succede, try try again right. Anyway I'm in the mood to share so here it is. And of course you can use it if you lke Doc.
TBE...

Breaking News
By M. M. Johnson

The program director, Charles Patrick, along with everyone in the newsroom and their entire viewing audience, watched in fascinated horror as a city bus collided with the barricade and police vehicles blocking an intersection. One of the cars flipped over onto two fleeing officers, crushing them from view.
“Do you want me to kill that, it’s pretty graphic?” Keith Pulaski, the head technician in the broadcast booth asked, referring to the thirty-second delay on their live broadcast. Charles shook his head, “No leave it!
The blood and gore covered bus, crashed into another of the police cars blocking the street and veered towards the camera. The obviously terrified driver was clearly visible through the bloody shattered windshield. The camera view bounced along turning to follow the bus. The mobile broadcasting van came into view, someone off camera shouted a warning, then the broadcast abruptly cut to static as the bus collided with the van.
Cut to anchor!” Charles shouted, but Keith was already switching. Their anchorman, Clifford Scott, a distinguished looking man with clear blue eyes and dark brown hair graying at the temples, looked slightly startled as he realized he was back on the air.
“Ok, it looks like we have lost the live feed,” he said coolly as he recovered. “I hope their all right down there; alright it looks like we are going to our channel Five helicam, and Kari Davies.”
The view changed to an aerial shot of the downtown area, the mist-shrouded streets were aglow with police lights flashing blue to red. Large and small groups of people, some walking slowly, and some running, could be seen moving randomly through the fog.
The disembodied voice of Kari Davies joined the view, “Thanks Cliff, ok it’s hard to see exactly what’s happening on the ground, everything is obscured in the fog that’s been rolling in for the past hour.” The camera panned around showing the downtown buildings protruding up like stalagmites on a mist covered cavern floor.
“If you look here,” Kari said, referring to the current view on camera. “You can see the flashing police lights marking one of the many road blocks the police have set up around the downtown area. We can see a large group of people, slowly moving up to and through the intersection there.” “Some people seem to be fleeing from the main crowd, and it looks like there are some altercations occurring” Kari paused for a second as shock accompanied the realization of what she was seeing. “I am not sure but… I believe those flashes of white light… I think those are guns being fired, it appears that the police are firing on the advancing crowd!” she said in an awe stricken voice.
“What’s happening out there,” Keith said to no one in particular.
“I don’t know,” Charles answered excitedly, “but it makes for some great television, our ratings are going to go through the roof!”

M. M. Johnson

Of course you can use it if you like Doc, I only started writing stuff like this for your podcast anyway.
P.S. the first story I submitted made it into the second round of reading, though only on concept. He had the same complaint, that it suffers from to much telling. Does that mean I'm telling to much and not showing enough? Oh well, happy podcasting Doc

TBE.

This story was written for and rejected by the bits of the dead submission call. To much telling they say, well I am a bit long winded.

The Empty Man

The bow creaked slightly, as he increased the tension from a hold to a release position. The man who once answered to the name Stephen, took in a deep calming breath, and focused on his target.
The young Caucasian soldier’s laughter cut off suddenly, as the bolt slammed into his back. He took one staggering step forward, the gun in his hand clattered to the pavement as he looked down in disbelief at the arrowhead protruding from his chest. Only seconds from death, he took a step back and turned to looked up in the direction from which he’d been shot. At this moment the other soldier struggling with the beautiful young woman, noticed the arrow pierced through his partner’s body.
At this distance, Stephen couldn’t hear what the Latino soldier said when he saw his partner dieing. From his facial expression though, Stephen was sure they were words better left unheard. The corrupt young soldier released the woman he’d been dragging to the Humvee, and took cover on the wrong side of the vehicle. He’d obviously misjudged which direction the shot had come from, a costly mistake.
Stephen’s shot caught the second soldier in his upper right shoulder. The arrowhead pierced though his flesh and into the Humvee’s doorjamb, pinning his back to the side of the vehicle.
He dropped his gun and screamed in agony, all the noise was drawing in walkers from every direction. No longer worried about being seen, Stephen stood up from his hastily chosen position. The young woman was now in danger of being eaten alive, a fate she may very well not deserve. The walkers were getting close to the Humvee, reaching out for the living and freshly dead flesh around it.
Stephen dropped the bow, and picked up his rifle. Kneeling down, he prepared to make a few head shots in defense of the woman. He found her in his scope, crouched over her murdered lover’s body. When he saw the gun in her hand, he nodded in grim understanding. She turned and cast a tear stained glance in Stephen’s direction. Seeing him on a rooftop across the road, she nodded in thanks. Turning away, she placed the gun under her chin, and joined her lover.
Stephen walked to the edge of the rooftop and watched dispassionately as the pinned soldier struggled to pull the arrow from his bloody shoulder. As the walkers closed in around him, he reached out for his dropped weapon, and then they were on him. His screams didn’t last long, unfortunate, Stephen thought as he turned away.
Stephen’s family had taken his soul with them when they were killed. In the killing of the wicked, he had found new purpose in this hell on earth. Around the Humvee, a large crowd of the dead had gathered to feast. An incendiary round into the vehicles gas tank ended the feeding frenzy. The undead bodies writhing in the flames, created a vision rivaling Dante’s own inferno.

M. M. Johnson

Great story, so how did you format it so it didnt run off the right side like mine did?

Sorry I tried to fix this because you can't read the right side, it seems to run off. now it's been cut in half??

Need some Help Doc

All the President’s Men

 Pulled from his sleep as if from some psychic intuition, the leader of the free world sat bolt upright in the bed only seconds before his bedroom door was thrown violently open.    
“What the hell is going on Steve?” the President bellowed with questioning outrage. The first lady sat up in her marital bed pulling away a blindfold to reveal shocked sleepy eyes.   
“Sorry sir,” Stephen replied with cold confidence, “the grounds have been compromised.”       
“Alright, alright, Steve just give us a few minutes to get dressed” the President exclaimed as he came to his feet.   
“I’m sorry sir there’s no time, the house may not be secure for much longer, we have to move now as you are sir,” Stephen replied in a firm respectful tone.   
The president and his wife both nodded in understanding as they put their lives into the hands of the men sworn to protect and if necessary die for them. They were quickly ushered out of their room and into the hall.      
“We have them” Stephen spoke into a microphone mounted on his sleeve cuff, “we are on the move to L.Z. one E.T.A. four minutes.”  After moving through the house for less than two minutes, Stephen held up his hand bringing the group to a halt.   
 “Jesus” he whispered to himself as he listened in disbelief to the sounds coming over his earpiece.    “L. Z. one is compromised, I repeat L. Z. one is compromised” the man spoke loudly into his mic with just a touch of panic in his voice. “Their coming over the fence, no, no there’s to many, fall back, fall back god damn it!”   
Stephen could hear the pounding of the helicopter blades just under the machinegun and handgun fire, and high pitched screaming mixed in with the shouting voices of fighting men. Stephen cut off his earpiece, and turned to his men, and then another message came over the radio.   
“Sanctuary is breached! We have multiple subjects, multiple points of entry, repeat sanctuary is breached!” breaking glass, gunfire, high pitched shrieking, screaming, Stephen tuned the earpiece out and turned to his group.  
“Sanctuary is breached,” he said to them gravely. . Sanctuary was breached; everyone in the group knew what that meant. Those three words washed over them like a slowly breaking wave of dread. Sanctuary is breached, whatever it was that was happing outside, was now in the house.    
Stephen’s mind was working fast, “Emergency exit,” he declared loudly.    
Suddenly a new sound broke through the still silence in the early morning home, the running footsteps of one pair of feet could heard from around the corner of the hall. The two men, who had moved to the front ahead of Stephen, now took up positions on either side of the hallway to face the possible coming threat.   
A man came bounding around the corner of the hallway, and misjudging the turn, he ran into the wall at the curve. He stumbled back away from the wall to turn and for the first time notice the people standing in the hallway. His eyes were black shining orbs that seemed to move and shift in his head like living things. His clothes in bloody tatters hung from his body, but his face was what everyone was looking at in horror. Most of the flesh from his left cheek and throat was torn away, so that the windpipe was visible and his teeth shone out from his face like a living skull. Upon seeing them his mouth dropped open issuing an ear-splitting shriek, and he rushed toward the nearest man blocking his path.  
 Michel and Anthony stood several yards ahead of the group covering the hallway, both had their guns drawn, pointed at the floor, and stood shoulder to shoulder about five feet apart. When they heard approaching footsteps they both brought their guns to bare and prepared to deal with who ever was coming, be it friend or foe. However, nothing could have prepared them for what came running around the corner.   
The man was dressed in what had probably been a business suit, it was now covered from the neck down with still wet blood and gore. The shirt was torn and shredded showing many bloody scratches and claw marks on his chest but the bloody suit jacket remained.  
“Stop right there,” Anthony hollered with authority, “stop or we’ll shoot.”   
The man turned and looked directly at Michel with his glistening black swirling eyes. Michel looked on in disbelief at the wounds on his face and neck as the man dropped his mouth open and shrieked, running towards Michel reaching out with twitching clawed hands.   
Michel reacted instinctively to the trespassers aggressive approach and squeezed off four rounds into the mans chest, every bullet hitting its mark within inches around the heart. The shots barely caused the man to falter in his steps as he slammed into Michel’s gun hand. The hollow point bullets had torn through the mans chest and left a sizable cavity into which Michel’s gun hand sank as the man slammed into him baring him to the floor.   
Michel’s mind could not process what was happening, the man should be lying on the floor only seconds from death with the placement of those shots. All his training told him so, and still the man continued his attack. He was hit hard by the apparent psychopath, and was slammed into the floor knocking his breath from him. Michel struggled to free his gun to no avail; the man stopped that insane shrieking and opened his mouth wide baring his teeth. Michel grabbed the man by the throat with his left hand, pushing snapping jaws away from his face.   
The enraged lunatic growled as he tried to bite Michel’s arm, as he clawed at Michel’s face his thumb sank into Michel’s left eye. He could not free his gun, in a panic Michel began squeezing off rounds. The bullets tore apart the mans body, and Michel’s gun hand burst through the mans back just to the right of the backbone. Michel realized that the screaming he was hearing was his own, as the man took hold of Michel’s wrist and pulled it away from his bloody torn throat freeing himself from Michel’s hold.     
Only seconds had passed since the man had appeared, six or seven at the most as Anthony watched his best friends eye ooze around the mans thumb in Michel’s eye socket. He could hear Michel screaming and wanted to help, but from this angle, he could not get a shot off without hitting Michel. The man pulled away Michel’s neck hold, and Anthony watched in horror as he bit into Michel’s right cheek, blood spraying across his ravaged face.   
“Nnnnoooooo!” Anthony heard himself scream as he grabbed the man by his jacket and tried to pull him away from Michel’s face.   
He heard another sound through all the screaming and looked up just in time to see the blood splattered girl running towards him, shrieking with her arms out…reaching.  
The girl was young maybe sixteen or seventeen with long blond hair around what was once a pretty face before her nose had been bitten off, in her eyes, cold swirling blackness. She wore a blood spattered hospital gown torn to shreds just below her breasts; she was naked from there down to her bare feet… It appeared that she had been pregnant recently, but all that was left of her belly was a gore soaked hole where her organs hung out to drag behind on the floor.  
Anthony could hear the shots being fired from behind him as the bullets impacted into the girl’s body. Three shots hit her in the chest almost simultaneously, a fourth in the right side of her neck vaporizing the flesh, a fifth found her right shoulder destroying the joint and leaving her arm to swing uselessly from a few strands of sinew. Then she was on him, they both stumbled backwards as she grabbed a hold of Anthony’s left arm and tried to bite through his suit coat sleeve. When he felt the girl’s teeth against the cloth covered flesh of his arm, Anthony reacted in panic turning and throwing his arm outwards, spinning the girl away from him and into the agent behind him.  
Roger Murray Saw the girl come around the corner of the hallway, his mind could not believe what his eyes where telling it. The girl was so badly injured that she could not possibly be still standing or breathing, or for that matter running down the hallway attacking secret service men protecting the president. But her intentions were clear and Roger acted accordingly, centering his aim on the target…he fired. One, two, three, shots to her heart, the blood spray from the impacts splattering the wall, floor, and ceiling, and she kept coming. Another hit on the right side of her neck and the flesh exploded out as if she had swallowed a small explosive and it had gone off in her throat, and she kept coming.  
Again a hit into her right shoulder, almost severing her arm, no effect but that her running gait shifted as she regained her balance, what the fuck?! He thought open mouthed.   
And she was on Anthony, trying to bite him? Anthony spun throwing the girl into Roger. The girl hit Roger her back to his front, and they both fell backwards. He held his balance and stopped himself from falling, as the girl turned impossibly fast and grabbed at him with her only good arm, snarling noises bubbling up from her ruined throat. She was to close and he could smell the overwhelming stench of freshly spilled  blood coming off her body. Roger tried to push her away, but she held on tight and snapped her teeth at his face. They slowly spun as the two of them struggled in the center of the hallway like two dancers on a prom date from hell.   
Roger did the only thing he could think of to stop her; he brought his gun up under the left side of her snapping jaw and fired. Blood, brain matter, and bits of scull hit the ceiling nano seconds after the bullet. Roger had his mouth and eyes wide open as he fired, the blood spray blinded him and he tasted the girl’s putrid essence in the back of his throat. Even as the bullet was leaving the barrel of Roger’s gun, the girls jagged broken fingernails found the side of his throat and dug into it with a vise like grip, rending the flesh and ripping his carotid artery open. He bent over gagging, and as he tried to stop the blood gushing from his ruined neck, Roger felt a hand grab him by his collar. He moved to bring his gun up and felt another hand on his wrist.   
“Its ok I got you buddy” Stephens voice yelled into his ear. But it was already to late as Stephen could see, and he gently laid his fallen comrade down on the hallway floor.  
 Stephen backed up against the main group around the President and his family in the hallway and watched in disbelieving horror, as the rest of unreal scene played itself out.                 
Anthony watched as the girls head exploded from Rogers shot, and looking over Rogers shoulder, he could see more people coming from the other end of the hallway, at least six crazy shrieking people running down the hall fearlessly like invading Huns. He turned back to the corner of the hallway in front of him, and saw three more were coming from around the bend.   
In addition, Anthony who appeared for the first time in his career to be frozen in shocked disbelief, heard Michel’s screaming turning into a gasping gurgle.   
Michel’s hand still protruded from the guys back, and almost seemed to be growing out from it, looking like a macabre circus freak show. He had dropped the gun and the hand was in spasm, reaching, Fingers gripping and opening. Anthony watched helplessly as the man ripped into Michel’s neck like a starving man at a long awaited feast, gnawing at the flesh, growling in obvious pleasure. Michel’s eyes looked into his as he gurgled his last cry and expired. Again, Anthony looked back over his shoulder,  and into Stephen’s eyes with a look of absolute horror and indecision twisting his features.  
“Come on man!” Stephen shouted to him, gesturing for him to join ranks with Stephen and the rest of the team around the first family, but the main group was at least twenty feet away.   
Anthony knew he couldn’t make it, the people in front of and behind him were to close, only seconds away, and in a split second knew what his fate would have be. Anthony locked eyes with his commander and Stephen knew what he was about to do, and he knew Anthony had no other choice.   
Stephen watched as Anthony ran forward to meet his oncoming attackers head on, he got off one shot into the face of the first guy, an over weight man dressed in what was once a very expensive suit. It was now covered in blood like the two behind him; His reaching right hand had only a thumb left on it.     Anthony’s shot destroyed his face and most of the left side of his head, but his momentum carried him into Anthony, and they both fell to the floor trapping the Secret Service agent under him. Strangely enough, Stephen thought he recognized the person as a congressional representative, but could not place the name. The other two assailants fell onto them, scrambling around the body of the fat man in search of Anthony‘s flesh.   
Stephen’s eyes tracking movement came back to the man attacking Michel; he appeared to have lost interest in his victim and was now looking at Stephen. As the man moved back to stand, before he could get halfway up his head exploded, covering the wall behind him with what was left of his face. As Stephen lowered his gun his mouth dropped open in horror,  Michel sat up and turned to look at him with what looked like living black ink moving in and covering the whites and color of his eyes as he shrieked at Stephen. He could not understand what he was seeing, but it didn’t matter as their time was almost up. The last thing he saw before they were surrounded by the attackers, was Anthony bringing his weapon up under his own chin. The hallway was filled with spraying blood, screaming, and the smoke and chaos of gunfire, as the last of the Presidents guardians fought to the last man. Then there was only the screaming.

M. M. Johnson

Greetings good librarians!
Nice to see the good Doctor has gotten another forum up and running! I hope to enjoy many long hours perusing the threads on this forum.

Happy flesh eating!!

TBE…