Category Archives: Horror

Trifextra 53: Zombie Bunnies – Leveling the Playing Field

For the weekend prompt we’re asking for exactly 33 words of dialogue.

Each and every week I think about how I can get more Zombie Bunnies in on this. There’s plenty of dialogue (but I am working more bunnies into the story). Anyway, the story is a little further along, and some of the characters are hatching a plan.

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“I’ll set off the bomb with this detonator.”

“This is an old game controller.”

“Yeah I made some… modifications.”

“Can this get us 30 more guys, y’know, backup?”

“Haha! Sorry, no cheat codes.”

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Trifecta 54: Zombie Bunnies – Breaking the Seal

CRUSH (transitive verb)3 : to reduce to particles by pounding or grinding

This week’s challenge is community-judged.
For the 12 hours following the close of the challenge, voting will be enabled on links.
In order to vote, return to this post where stars will appear next to each link. To vote, simply click the star that corresponds with your favorite post.
You can vote for your top three favorite posts.
Voting is open to everyone. Encourage your friends to vote for you, if you wish, but please don’t tell them to vote on a number. The numbering of the posts changes regularly, as authors have the ability to delete their own links at any time.
You have 12 hours to vote. It’s not much time, so be diligent! We’ll send out reminders on Twitter and Facebook.
Good luck!

It’s been a while (2 months?!) since the last Zombie Bunnies installment, and I did work on it during NaNoWriMo. It’s not quite done (November is always my busiest work month -not to mention holidays!), but I have over 20K words at this point, which was double the amount I had started with! New characters, side stories and the beginning is in the books (pun intended)!

For continuity, and because by fantastic coincidence the word CRUSH was mentioned, let’s pick up where we left off.

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McMuscles was bored, and that irritated the hell out of him. He slowly rolled three walnuts in his hand, the calming ritual achieving a minimal effect. He would rather crush them into dust; damn the snacking. One crackle might blow his cover though.

It had been a boring and irritating campaign in Delta Springs. After dropping the little prick off (on Connar’s terms; McM wanted to give him a complimentary flying lesson), the chopper’s recording had stopped, so no one saw it land later that day across the city, in Eisley Park (where he had camped and LZ’ed in and out several times). He had shadowed the religious nuts as they spread the word about the rotting rodents, and Connar had arranged that Allen would never chance upon him or the chopper (and a few other areas that were off limits, for whatever reasons). He had a comm unit like Allen’s, but it was usually off. He knew his mission. Plus, fuck Connar. Only dogs wore leashes.

Just before this whole fiasco came around, he had his own show (“The Four Horsemen“) but everything was on hiatus, including the season finale; a ton of logistics was now for shit. Good intel was worth more than the expenses – fully covered by Connar – but the contract (which was money AND reputation) was off the table for them. Needless to say, the other members had started recruiting in his absence; The Book said nothing about five harbingers of doom. Just thinking about that, his fist began to close tighter…

And there he was. Alone, probably heartbroken (he had watched the show earlier), and probably looking for him. Well, I found you first. McMuscles smirked as he stored away the nuts and leveled his rifle, sighting him quickly. The OVK-1 was a perk of working for Connar. He nicknamed it “Overkill”; with all the high tech shit they crammed into it, in the end, a simple twitch of the finger unleashed final judgement.

McMuscles squeezed the trigger.

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All NaNo’s Eve

It is several days after ‘Sandy’, and I have power, heat, light. There’s no damage to my apartment or car. Work is cancelled for the entire week, half of NYC has no power, and the subways are flooded – so I am not exactly celebrating. The 4 hour blackout that was in my area was planned, as they needed to repair a neighboring area’s transformer, literally the next block. Yes I am lucky, and I appreciate every second of being able to be writing this.

Among other things, Halloween will be rescheduled.

This was the extent of my costume. It was an instant buy when I saw it.

Not shown: Nasty big pointy teeth.

This should segue nicely into some interesting news. You may understand the shirt’s reference, as my first Zombie Bunny post refers to it. Yes it was an instant buy when I saw it (teefury.com).
Also tomorrow is the beginning of NaNoWriMo. I try to do it every year, and have not had that much success with it. Even if I do ‘win’, I usually do not ‘finish’ it.

Until now.

This year, I will use NaNo to complete the Zombie Bunnies story. From the very beginning to the end, adding new people, places, plotlines, and fleshing out what I already have.

After it’s done, I have a few people who can edit it, and maybe even help along the next couple of steps as well. Whether or not they can help, or that I even finish it this month, that’s the goal; I want to get the Zombie Bunnies story published. I draw inspiration from the efforts, advice and success of those of you who write every day, and give advice not only on the product, but what to do with it – I’ve been listening, and value your words. Now I want to take that advice and use it on to accomplish what you have.

In just a few more hours it begins, during one of the busiest months of my job, and that’s without a long weekend of holidays. I have a head start with the outline and these couple of days off, but most of all, the backing of Zombunny fans.

I will try to keep up with other prompts as well, and may tease you further with some parts along the way.

Part of NaNoWriMo, or just want to watch? You can find me here.

Here’s to opportunity, inspiration and knowing the value of everything.

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Well Met, But Not Well Done

Ok, well this week’s prompt was to write about something that we feared as a child (or maybe even now) and how we deal with it (unless you haven’t, and it is a veritable time capsule under your bed because no way, no how, are you sticking your head, hand under there to look for something!). I tried, but was inspired by another idea, one terrifyingly true to life, and so while I did use the word (sinister) I will not be ‘entering’. If you click the tricycle though, it will take you to it, so’s you can comment and lavish warm commenty goodness on them. (After reading my story first, of course!)

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I watched the old building, knowing the location was correct- but were my instincts? Months of endless reading, sending transmissions, infiltrating a hidden circle. The message I discovered was no accident, did the radar blip and find me? Fear instincts threatened to creep in like the October breeze. Was it bait? I would know soon enough.

My shadow stretched to the door before I did, the sun giving its last light for the day. I pulled at the worn metal handle, the correct choice reassuring me, as the door creaked open.

It was darker inside than the twilight I had left. Trying to adjust my vision, I swear I could see shapes. Were there people milling about, or their souls, still not finding the solace they once sought within these walls ? It was hard to tell, the worn leather and wood chairs groaning, the large metal oven still ticking, waiting for a spark.  There was life here, and if it was a sinister presence, I was dead meat.

Various altars of heavy wood were scattered about. Symbols were carved upon all of them; the rough edges of blades  scratching and puncturing from determined hands; others drawn and painted on. Messages, testimonies, memorials?

What did I know about the Divers anyway? They were loyal, single minded – sworn against the systematic Shackers, forcing their own to wait, single file, in any weather, to feast.

“You’ve arrived.”

I jumped, turning to find several figures standing in a half-circle behind me.

“Huh? I was, just… you were expecting me?”

“In a way. You obviously decoded the subtle message I posted, meant to summon Divers, but sometimes new acolytes find us.”

“But let’s not grill you further.” He put his cloak aside, and waved his hand towards the oven. There was a louder click and it ignited, burning bright, warm, hungrily. Another member handed me a glass filled with a thick, dark brew.

The group gathered at a large altar and looked towards me expectantly.

“Medium well ok?”

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Lady or Not wants YOU to link your spooky stories!

So as it turned out, the wait for a table was not hellish, the Guinness WAS dark,
and the Bistro Burgers were sin…fully delicious.

Love & Lunchmeat, El Guapo, and I.

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Ketchup With Us #4 – Who’s Laughing Now?!

In 57 WORDS OR LESS, retell the plot line of your favorite horror movie. And, if you can find one, be sure to include a movie clip of your own. Ketchup With Us

Ms Mel and ODNT are at it again with Ketchup #4. Get in on it!

After racking my brains out over all of the (ridiculous) horror movies I have been watching, it came to me, why overthink it? Get back to basics, the movies that got you INTO horror. Freddie, Jason, Michael, even the Toxic Avenger are all legit. To me though, the icon of cheesy horror is Bruce Campbell, better known as Ash in the Evil Dead series.

And so I decided to go with the cult favorite: Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn.
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Sam Raimi’s horror classic, starring Bruce Campbell’s chin, comes complete with a 1973 Oldsmobile, tape recitation of the Necronomicon which unleashes evil, possessed hands & chainsaws (never a good mix), sight gags (A Farewell to Arms), and a cellar dwelling monster who provides an eye- popping scene. The climactic ending proves you can’t escape fate. Groovy.
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Oh a trailer was requested. I found one for the Evil Dead (remake). Rarely do I endorse that idea.

Rarely am I actually terrified by a trailer. Part of me wants to see this in theaters. Another part wants to hide now.

Seriously, the trailer is crazy. Click at your own risk! Enjoy!

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Trifextra 37: On 3 – 1…2…

This weekend we are challenging you to write 33 of your own words to build upon the following:
On the count of three…
You can choose to include those words if you want, but they do not count toward the 33 words of your own.

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On the count of three…

I’ll open my eyes; those 19 year old supermodels (twins!) will still be in bed, but my wife won’t be standing at the doorway, with the gun.

Aw, crap.

-Me, 96 years old.

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Inspired by the Irish- attributed adage/toast

May you die in bed at 95, shot by a jealous spouse.

I got away with it a little longer 😉

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Trifecta 45 / Zombie Bunnies: No Love Lost

This week’s word is: UNEASY
1: causing physical or mental discomfort
2: not easy : difficult
3: marked by lack of ease : awkward, embarrassed <gave an uneasy laugh>

There is little ease in the Zombunny world right now. Some of you were wondering what led up to the latest parts of the story, which we saw from both Allen and Carly’s POV. Let’s go back about 5 minutes and answer that…in 333 words or less.

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Allen strode into the bedroom of his apartment, where Carly was carefully arranging her pelted headpiece for the evening rituals.

“Allen… hi,” Carly greeted Allen with an uneasy smile as he walked to her for a kiss. She glanced over his shoulder to the camera, then to him. “Is everything ok?”

“No, nothing’s ok,” Allen confessed. “Instead of sticking with my sister like I should have, I got caught up in this stupid idea, hooking up with some freakish…” he checked himself when he saw Carly’s expression.

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s just, this is why I’m back. She’s in danger on that show. I gotta get her out. Before that though, I need to get you somewhere safe.”

“I am safe… here.” Her tone was hollow, unconvincing.

“No, you’re not, nobody is.” He began to pace. “There are hordes of bloodthirsty undead animals hopping around and society’s either about worshipping or killing them. Doesn’t something seem odd there?! I just want you and I… don’t shake your fucking head Carly!” he stopped and shouted at her.

Carly’s voice was a whisper. “I care for you, Allen, it was something that we knew would happen… he knew it would.”

Allen’s face flushed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“That big man with the mohawk came by shortly after you had started this show. Connar wanted to help protect us, show the viewers how we are a peaceful sect, but we had to agree to some ideas first. They said you were attracted to me and he wanted us together as a side story, but I was betrothed to Barry. Then… his accident, and…” she broke down into sobs. “You weren’t supposed to know…”

The blood rushing in Allen’s head drowned out her words. Reaching behind to the shoulder camera, he ripped it off the backpack and threw it across the room. It struck the mesh lined window, shattering it. Carly yelped at the crash, as Allen stormed out of the room, not looking back.
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