zombiesurvivor's Blog

I sure will, thanks Doc!

Well, what can I say besides another excellent episode? But you know that I love it don't ya Dr. pus? I think you do...

You're welcome Darkwingmantis...

Dark rain clouds packed together above the graveyard and the funeral of Edward Grease. Everybody wore expensive suits and dresses with different shades of black and had sad expression on their worn-out faces. Edward was loved and praised by the community with his charity work and donations to the orphanage. In his spare time, you could always find him in the church, talking to the priest about raising money for the less fortunate. Yeah, it seemed that a lot of people liked or even admired Edward, except his wife. She couldn’t believe how many people showed up to say goodbye to that bastard. Behind his friendly eyes, permanent grin and shaggy beard, was an obsessive, manipulative son of a bitch that like to absolute authority over his wife and children. He always yelled when the children didn’t had good grades. He always cursed when she forgot to pick up something from town. He would always hit her, and sometimes even the children, when things didn’t go as planned. Needless to say that Amy was glad that her husband was finally dead. Even if it was under “suspicious circumstances” and an investigation was started. If it meant that some nosy police officers checked her record, it was fine. If they searched the house for something unusual, no problem. Even if they traced his and her activities back from the day they met each other at the fundraiser fifteen years ago, it didn’t matter. They would never find any evidence, witnesses or suspects. Even if they did, they would never believe it. Who on Earth still believes that black magic works? Except for some crazy religious lunatics and witchdoctors, the outside world will dismiss the various books and artefacts made out of clay, feathers, fabric, hair and chicken bones as a hobby or a fascination with the occult.

She had planned his murder for years. She would often fantasize about it when she was working at her desk in her office. A stab with a kitchen knife here, a strangle with a garden hose there… nothing was too difficult or too sadistic in her mind. She also made several attempts to dispose of that man. Poison is his coffee, cutting the brakes of his car and making the bathtub extra slippery. But, it all failed miserably. She had underestimated his iron stamina and cat-like reflexes, which he by the way always brags about. No, the inspiration for the final idea and the eventual cause of death of Edward came to Amy when they were on vacation in Haiti. During one of the staged ceremonial dances near the hotel, she saw an elder man with curious necklaces and a cane making circles in the air with his index finger and silently chanting. She didn’t paid much attention about it then, until one of the dancers suddenly dropped dead with a twisted back and neck. Panic and cries erupted in the resort and the man was nowhere to be seen. With a lot persistence and patience she asked to the locals in the town and was finally able to track him down. She found him in a small shack in the deep jungle. The old man wasn’t happy with intruders, but after hearing her story, she could stay. He was more than happy to help. After all, helping people in trouble was his speciality. His name was Jacque and he was a Bokor (a magician for me and you) for forty years now and he has helped many women with their husbands. She was sceptical at first, but she couldn’t forget what she saw at the hotel. She had to answer some questions about Edward, whilst he was grinding some herbs and softly hitting a small drum. He needed something from her husband to make it a personal spell (or curse if you will). She gave him his sunglasses which she accidentally left in her bag. The Bokor smashed the sunglasses in pieces and took some fragments with him in the dark. She was asked to return in a couple of days. It would be ready by then. She left him heavily shaking and singing in an unknown language. She felt like winning the jackpot.

As the first raindrops landed on the casket, the priest gave a speech about the life of Edward and our place in the universe. It didn’t matter to Amy, she was just filled with joy and excitement. She finally did it. She got rid of that tyrant that destroyed her life. She faked a few tears and sobs before she replayed her murder again in her mind. It was relatively easy to kill him. All she had to do was repeating the same sentence the Bokor taught her, mixing magical power through his food and drinks and light candles near the dolls with the fragments of his sunglasses. The results were immediately noticeable. Edward began to develop a nasty cough and nose bleeds. He first thought it was his allergies working up again, but the symptoms increased with each passing week. He kept getting weaker and weaker. His hair would fall out, he couldn’t keep his food down and his sight began to blur. Edward kept complaining about terrible nightmares involving a dark man slaughtering goats, pigs and even humans. Every time he woke up, he swore that he heard drums playing. They kept going from hospital to hospital, but no one could give a diagnoses. There were many theories, but no evidence to back I up. Eventually, the doctors gave him up after a few months of endless testing and discussing. Amy kept reassuring him and continued doing the rituals until one morning Edward didn’t cried out in terror after one of his nightmares. She checked his pulse several times to make sure he was really dead before she called 911. She looked at her children. They were the only things that was not miserable in her marriage. They were her angels and she would do anything for them. Poor things, they were heart broken about the loss of their father. They shouldn’t be. She would like to tell them that she made daddy good again by killing him, but she understood that they would take that the wrong way. No matter how angry Edward was, they loved him. Unconditional love. Amy stood by the grave long after everybody left. The rain was really pouring down and the graveyard slowly turned into a muddy mess. But she had to stay here. She needed to make sure he was gone out of her life forever. Her eyes kept staring coldly at the casket as it was being buried by two grave-diggers.

Amy took a long drag from her cigarette and exhaled loudly as she sat in her favourite chair in front of the fireplace. She hasn’t experienced such a quiet evening in a long time. The children had gone to bed and now she was alone, enjoying the serenity of the living room. Normally, Edward would yell obscenities at the television if one of the football players had made a mistake, or he would complain about the taxes or something more trivial than that. Now there was nothing except her, the radio and her favourite book. After she read a few pages or so, she was interrupted by a loud thump that seemed to come from the front yard, near the front door. Another thump. She closed the book, discarded the cigarette in the ashtray and cautiously walked towards the door. There had been several cases of vandalizing teenagers in the neighbourhood lately, so she prepared for the worst. As she approached the door, another thump, accompanied with a unholy moan made her uneasy. Maybe it was someone that needed help, or maybe it was a drunken drifter that was lost in the suburbs and was now trying to come inside. She grabbed on of her umbrella and held it as an improvised weapon in her left hand as she turned the doorknob with her right. She slowly opened the door. A penetrating odour entered her nose, making her tear. It was god-awful, did that guy ever heard of a shower? She continued opening the door and was confronted with a staggering figure that was dragged his feet through her flower bed. The man, at least she assumed it was a man, seemed too preoccupied with the flowers to notice her or the curious neighbours that peeked out of their windows. The man was digging with his hands through the soil like a dog, causing lumps of dirt and flowers flying through the air and scattering on the sidewalk. Amy had seen enough. She walked to the man and poked him with the umbrella. “That’s enough! Please leave now!”, she yelled. But the man continued his rampage through the garden, but this time the bushes were the victims. He ripped the branches off with all his strength and threw them at the house. He picked up rocks and other solid objects that he could get and tossed it rather clumsily at Amy. She screamed and quickly retreated. He was obviously insane. She locked the door, ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. As she dialled, a loud crash came from the living room.

The man was inside. She grabbed a kitchen knife and ran to the living room. “This fucker is going to wish that he was never born.”, she thought but immediately stopped when she saw the man in the light of the fireplace. No, it can’t be. It’s impossible. In front of her sat Edward, lacerated and penetrated with sharp fragments of glass. His clothes were covered in dirt and his hands looked broken as if… he crawled out of his grave. He didn’t breathed or coughed like he always did. Instead, he rasped as mud dripped out of his mouth. Edward didn’t do anything. He just sat there, staring at her. His milk white wyes concentrated on the knife. He smiled. “Now darlin’, you ain’t gonna stab me do ya?”, he said with a distorted and broken voice. “It’s just me… Edward.”, he continued and he slowly stood up. His face was ash grey and his teeth was stained with blood, dirt and plants. “It would be very rude…” Amy couldn’t believe her eyes. She dropped the knife and fell on her knees. “You have been a very bad girl… now it’s time to punish you.”, he said in his usual threatening tone. Amy closed her eyes, like she always did, and decided to let Edward have is revenge if not for the little feet that raced down the stairs. “Daddy!”, the children shrieked with excitement. “Kids!”, the corpse replied in the same manner, but only a little more stiff. The kids ran past her traumatized mother who now watched in amazement as the children jumped on their father and gave him hugs. “We knew you would come back!”, Eric said with tears in his eyes. “Yeah, even though mommy said otherwise.”, Lisa said and she cuddled her little stuffed bear. “Did she now?”, Edward asked and he looked at Amy. The zombie patted the small heads and walked to the kitchen. The harsh fluorescent light revealed more gruesome details of Edwards new appearance. Amy slowly stood up and ordered the children to watch a DVD as she and daddy would have a talk. She let them watch a cartoon and closed the door of the living room. She turned to face Edward. She still couldn’t believe it, but she had enough being a mute. “What are you doing here?”, she asked with furious eyes. “Is it not enough that you’ve beaten and abused me for many years when you were still alive?” The corpse that once was Edward laughed and slammed one of his broken hands on the table. Cracks and pops made Amy flinch, but she never stopped staring into his dead eyes.

There was a brief silence as Edward shuffled to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He gulped it down eagerly and most of it spilled on the floor. “Digging out of the grave sure makes you thirsty.”, he said and smiled once more at Amy. “Enough!”, Amy screamed hysterically as Edward grabbed a second beer. “Get out now!” Her face was bright red and her voice ached from all the screaming. The corpse stopped drinking, placed the beer on the table and sighed. “So you want me to go straight to the business?”, he asked and took a few menacing steps towards Amy. Amy, in response stepped back, but soon leaned against the wall. Edward licked his cracked lips. “You won’t feel a thing… I promise.”, he whispered and opened his mouth, revealing a breeding ground for all sorts of insects that already nestled in his body during his short stay in the ground. Amy didn’t say a word as she swiftly planted a fork in his head. Edward stumbled back and fell on the floor twitching. Amy grabbed her car keys and went to the garage. She had to dispose of the body, now that it’s still dark. It would look very strange if someone saw the body of the deceased husband lying on the kitchen floor. She opened the trunk, threw away some tools and blankets Edward always used to keep in case of an emergency. High pitched screams made Amy racing back to the kitchen were she only found a dark puddle of coagulated blood and maggots. The blood trail went to the… living room! She almost smashed through the door and screamed at what she saw. Edward was holding the lifeless bodies of Eric and Lisa. They lay in their own blood. The cartoons on the television were blurred as the blood splatters covered the screen. Edward wiped his hands and mouth and looked at the shaking woman in front of him. “I’ll take my half.”, he explained as he wriggled with a nail between his teeth. “If you don’t want me, you can’t have them.” Amy cried and cried as she never did before. She lost the only thing that mattered to her in the world. It was taken away from her by the living corpse of the man that made her live so miserable. From her clouded eyes, she saw the crooked figure approaching. She felt the cold hands grab her throat. She heard his maniacal laugh as she slowly faded away. She was finally free from him. She was somewhere he couldn’t follow. Never.

!!! Update !!!

Two poems posted (The unlikely friendship of Ted and Dave & Until death do us part)

That so cool, our stories match perfectly! More kudos (compliments) for you Robert!

Looks great Dr. Pus, that many more titles may follow...

- - - - -
The following document has recently been released by Oak Asylum located in Riverdale. It was found in the public restroom of Columbus park right after the famous massacre on the 4th of July 2003. There’s no recent information available about the author. Currently there’s an investigation going on behalf of the loved ones of the casualties to discover what exactly happened and why no one is allowed to see the suspect.
- - - - -

Alright, alright... I need to get myself together... need to get organized... to get the hell out of here if I want to survive this hellhole. I don’t know why I’m writing this on a useless scrap of paper that I just found in the garbage can, but I guess I have to do something or else I’ll become insane. My mind still can’t process what exactly happened back there. Does it really matter? Everybody’s dead, so why trying to puzzle this thing together and write it down for the sole purpose that anyone will find it and knows what happened here? Is this even real? Are those things that stalk outside not one of my hallucinations? It has been a while since I took my prescribed medication and when I don’t take them, I start seeing things. Horrible things. I’m talking about pulsating walls covered in veins, voices commanding me to kill and destroy, deformed babies walking on spider legs, laughing and all kinds of other sadistic and twisted things like that. It has always been this way. Since I was a little boy, I dreamt about the end of the world. Corpses crawling out of their graves, seas turning in a putrid pool of blood, pus and intestines... It seems that I’m having another episode. I need to write it down, read it again and realize how absurd it is. Let’s see if Dr. Hallmann’s technique still works.

Okay, so I was just hanging around in the park. Feeding the ducks, watching children and dogs play and enjoying the warm sun touching my skin. Suddenly, I heard a thumping sound accompanied with an explosion. I saw everybody looking in the distance, pointing and talking to each other. The dogs barked and the ducks flew away in terror. I slowly turned around and saw smoke. I figured that it was somewhere near the shopping mall. Another explosion, this time larger and louder than the one before, threw me on the ground. I heard screams and yells around me. I stood up, regaining my balance and saw many people lying on the ground, choking in their blood or holding their torn limbs tightly against them. What the hell happened here? Why was everybody lying on the ground dying, whilst I didn’t have a scratch? I tried to help people, but they all died in my arms. The sky slowly turned purple and it rained bits of... well, tadpoles are the best way to describe them. They fell with loud thumps on the ground and wriggled themselves to the wounded. Suddenly, I heard a little boy screaming. My eyes scanned the park and I saw the boy near the body of her mother near the playground. He was crying hysterically and he was very scared. I ignored the tadpoles and ran to the child. I grabbed him by the arm, lifted him and carried him away from the approaching pulsating wave. The tadpoles entered the corpses by the dozens. I saw them penetrating their wounds, ears, mouths... eyes... every entrance imaginable. Somehow, they ignored me and the boy. I figured that it wasn’t the time to think. We needed to get away from this. The tadpole rain stopped, now replaced with a dense fog. The fog curled around my legs and slowly increased in volume. The boy stopped crying, but I could see that he was still shocked about the events that unfolded a few minutes ago. He wore a T-shirt with a dinosaur on it, his pants and shoes were covered in dirt from the sandbox and his hairs were wet of sweat. I reassured him by saying that this would be over soon and that she would see his mommy again. I gave him some of my candy bar I kept in my pocket. It was a little melted, but that didn’t matter to him.

By the time we moved on, I couldn’t see shit. I was walking like a blind man, trying to get a hold of something. Something that could tell me where I was. I ignored the crunching and squishy sounds under my feet and slowly continued to walk on what I assumed was a gravel path. I cursed out loud, but realized that there were young ears listening. I looked at the boy who fell asleep. His face, what I could make out of it (it was very foggy) was peaceful. He reminded me of my own son. My son... he was the best. If it wasn’t for that drunk, I would be here with him. I held back the tears and pressed on. A sudden wave of stench greeted me. It smelled like a mixture of urine, rotten eggs and something I couldn’t place. It was a little sweet... I saw some shadows moving in the fog. At least, I thought it was something, it might as well be my imagination that was now hyperactive. I was getting a little nervous and I walked faster. We went downhill, I nearly slipped, but could remain my balance. I checked the kid. He was still asleep. Rustling and scraping made me look behind me. I saw something coming towards me in a slow and irregular fashion. It made a rasping sound. “Hello, is anyone there?”, I yelled. There was no reply. My eyes were strained on the figure that became clearer and clearer with each step it took. It looked like a human. Its legs were broken and dislocated, and yet, it walked. It’s head rested on its shoulder. Glowing eyes pierced through the white fog and I knew that it was not good. I ran, with the boy on my back, as fast as I could towards... well, nothing. A hand grabbed my ankle, piercing it with sharp nails and yanked me to the ground. I fell in the grass and lost the boy... I lost the boy! My mind was racing. I looked around, but only saw the white of the fog. I quickly looked at the hand that still held my ankle in a tight grip. I tried to kick it off me, but another hand appeared from nothing, grabbing my other leg. It dragged itself towards me using my legs as a support and it was making all kinds of disgusting sounds. I saw the same glowing eyes again, staring at me. I yelled and wrestled against my assailant. Another figure grabbed my head with black, skeletal hands. I looked up and saw a decomposed face looking back. There were no eyes, just wriggling tadpoles. Its nose was ripped open by more tadpoles and it’s mouth was agape. Stinking green drool ran down its chin in threads. Some of it even landed on my shoulder.

I gathered all my strength and managed to wrestle free from the rotting creatures. I didn’t do it to safe my own skin, but that of the boy. I frantically ran around, but I only found other creatures that wanted to grab me with their distorted bodies. That’s when it suddenly hit me. These creatures are the wounded people. The tadpoles somehow reactivated the bodies. I was sweating buckets and everything went in slow-motion. The cries and roars of the monsters were muffled. I avoided every one of them and I never gave up. After what seems like hours of close encounters with the undead, I gave up. I didn’t found the boy. The rotten bastards must have eaten him. I felt the rage build up inside me. My tired body and ached legs were suddenly refueled with a strange energy I’ve never felt before. With tears running down my cheeks, I grabbed a shovel that was discarded in the bushes. The loss of the gardener was my savior. I hit the closest creature with all my strength. An explosion of blood, skull fragments and brains washed over me. There were also some of the tadpoles and I made sure that I squished them under my feet. They could never make any victims again. The fog began to decrease and I saw more of the creatures in the distance. They also saw me and they marched towards me with a hungry gaze in their illuminant eyes. I continued with disposing every creature that came near me. I had to revenge the death of the innocent boy, I had to take revenge for every life that abruptly ended that afternoon... I had to take revenge for my son. After killing fifteen creatures or so, I was completely soaked with blood and unidentifiable pieces of flesh. I panted, but I kept moving. I had to destroy them all. Some of the corpses hid behind trees or beneath tables. Probably waiting to grab me when I least expected it. My last memory of this all was the cracking as slurping sound as I removed shovel out of the smashed skulls. The fog disappeared and I saw bodies scattered everywhere. I looked at a few tadpoles that were splashing around in a puddle of blood. They were dying. Serves them right. The bastards... I planted the shovel in the ground and walked to the public bathrooms to collapse from exhaustion on the floor.

So that’s everything. Let’s read it again... Just what I thought. It really happened. I know it happened. It’s probably a terrorist attack or something. That would explain the explosions, the fog and the tadpoles. A bio-organic attack. I’m sure I read about it somewhere. What was the name of that magazine again? Oh well, it doesn’t matter now. When the authorities arrives, I will tell them about the bombs, the artificial fog and the tadpoles. There was something about the creatures though that struck me as odd. Except that they were walking corpses, I swore that some of the pleaded for their lives or cried to others that they needed to run away right before I destroyed the brain. That might have been a trap or an illusion induced by the lack of my medicine. Yeah, that must be it. When they see the bodies and the tadpoles they must believe. If they don’t, they are lying or involved with this somehow. Maybe the government did this. I’m no expert, but there’s something fishy. I’ll devote my life to find out what exactly happened here. I still need to find the boy. I never found his body, or the living corpse of him... Don’t worry kid, I’ll get you. It’s going to be okay.

I hear sirens outside! Maybe they can help me finding the boy...

Signed,
Bob

Another excellent podacast doc! I've enjoyed it once again!

I've finished "All Kinds of Things Kill", which was an excellent read by the way and I'm beginning with Robin Cook's "Clone". Yeah, it's not a zombie novel but I'm also very interested in SF novels. After that, I think I'm gonna read a zombie novel again. You can never have enough zombies!

That's just awesome! Who doesn't love zombie farm animals?

Thank you for answering my question so quickly doc!

Yeah, I was wondering the same thing as well...

Nice writing! I think the doc will feature it on the podcast. I mean, he does that with my stories and I don't think I'm an excellent writer (good, but not better than anyone else), so why can't you?

!!! UPDATE !!!

Two short stories posted (My hate for the dead & Joseph's Atonement)

Wow, that's great! Good job Babygirlminxi!

I think it's trying to eat my soul...

Nah, it's not creepy. It feels like Dr. Pus is my guardian angel... the decomposing and flesh eating kind that is...

Thanks guys (and gals)!

You really have to include "Reanimated Man"! That was so awesome!

Do the good librarians who unfortunately can't attend at the Zombie Fest 2008, have a chance to get a copy? Or maybe a download at the podcast site?

Thank you, thank you.

I already had braces a couple of years ago, so I don't need one Darkwingmantis ;-)

But it's indeed a historical day... I can't wait to get the Library Card in my hands...

I'm so happy!

Finally, after many posts, I've passed the 100 post boundary... words can't describe how I'm feeling now that I get a library card... sweet... :-)

Sounds great, but I've not even started with the first one yet, so this will have to wait unfortunately...

It's not much, but this is the place where I'll publish my stories after I've posted them here on the forum. It's sort of a archive where you can read all my creative gibberish in one place. Cool isn't it? I'll try to update as much as I can. There will be a lot of updates in the near future since I'll need to put the stories I've already posted here on my blog.

So, visit if you want and don't forget to vote on my polls. After each month I'll put a new poll on the blog. That way, it will be even more fun :-)

Link:
http://zombiesurvivorshideout.blogspot.com/

Yeah, I've heard it and read it... It's a real shame... RIP

I've finished "Headshot Quartet" of the Undead series from Permuted Press, I'm now going to start with "All Kinds of Things Kill" by Robert R. Best...

C'mon Monkeybutt, it's really worth it!

I've just received my copy today. I was pleasantly suprised with the tenth chapter. So go to the "Tiny Zombie" section to read it. Thanks Robert, I loved it!

I'm going to read the rest of the book very, very soon. Oh yes, there will be blood...

Zombie Survivor lowered his rifle, watching the zombie fall. He'd lost count of how many zombies he'd put down.

He walked over to check his work. The zombie was splayed on its back. A name tag was on it's chest, apperently from whatever job the zombie had worked before the apocalypse.

"Zak" the name tag said.

His eyes moved to Zak's head. His shot had hit the headband Zak was wearing. Zombie Survivor frowned at the headband.

"Where have I seen that material before?", he asked to no one.

Zak sat up, laughing.

"From a bullet-proof vest", groaned Zak, and sank his teeth into Zombie Survivor's leg.

The last I heard about it, is that both books are in production. So we'll have to wait a little bit longer for those excellent books.

That certainly is great news! Thank you Doc! We're lucky to have such a dedicated host like you. I really mean it...