Tag Archives: sci-fi

Trifecta 36/ Zombie Bunnies – The Reckoning Pt. 2

The Word of the Week is: NORMAL
3: a form or state regarded as the norm : standard


Will things get that way in the Zombie Bunnies world? Well everyone is doing their part – whether it helps or hinders…well, we’ll find out soon enough.

The Reckoning is still at hand, now we’ll see what Emma has been up to. When we last left her, she’s was at the lab/tv show, working on something...


Emma leaned back and considered the bunny in the cage on the lab table. It couldn’t consider her back; the walls of the small box were tinted on the inside, so that it couldn’t see out, or even its own reflection. Still the bloodshot eyes unnerved her, the constantly twitching mouth, as though waiting for release, or feeding.

She worked as hard as the others to figure out how to counter the zombie-ism. Would it be a cure to bring bunnyism back to normal, an antidote to prevent other bunnies (and other species) from infection? Or would it be a poison targeted towards bunnies, zombiefied or not, to wipe them out completely? Whatever brings the best results, I guess.

‘The result’ depended mainly on the person and their motives & motivation. Emma’s name had not yet been called; she knew that it was only a matter of time. And when it was, she knew her peers (some she knew, others had been flown in under one pretense or another) were working for themselves; there would be no support, advice or well wishes. She would never let another see her research. Emma thought back to what Dr. Hodgkins did to Dr. Siria when he caught her going through his files after a tryst.

A timer went off. Well, here goes… something. She stood and walked to a refrigerator which contained a row of prepared test tubes, and samples of ‘pure’ rabbit meat. From the tubes, she chose ‘Solution C-1’, and took a sample as well. Using slender tongs, she dipped the meat into the tube, then carried it to the cage and opened a small latch at the top. The zombunny began to shift and scratch at the slippery walls, knowing the meal was coming, and snatched the morsel from the tongs. It rolled and tore at the meat, devouring it in seconds. Now we wait.

We. Emma watched closely, knowing another set of eyes was deciding if it was her time as well.

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Better Late Than Never 2: The Odds of Survival Are…

Continuing the BLTN series, here is another Trifecta prompt that I missed out on during the July 4th weekend. It was something almost tailor-made for Zombie Bunnies, but our heros and villains might have a little more time than that before the wascaly wabbits take over completely.

So I went with a little nerd humor. Ok a lot. (Yes as opposed to the high literature of ZB)

For the weekend challenge, we’re playing the ambiguity card again and leaving interpretation up to you. Give us 33-333 words with this as your inspiration:

The world will end in three days.

Meh, I ignored the word limit, since it doesn’t matter at this point, right? Enjoy!

* * *

“Well,” Peter commiserated, as they watched the news of the world’s impending demise, “at least we’re getting more notice than the people on Alderaan.” He and his friends were sitting in a bar they found called ‘Moss & Ivy’. The name was so familiar, it was pointless for them to resist going in.

“Or the Death Stars, particularly the first one,” Kelly added. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Hey even Earth, in the Hitchhiker Series!” Christopher pointed out.

“I don’t think that counts,” Kelly argued, as she sipped from her glass. “They were notified months before, they just never filled out the paperwork.”

“Oh give me a friggin break, we…I mean they, didn’t have space travel abilities to get TO the forms. They didn’t even know about the construction. So they WERE notified last minute.”

As they began to debate their points more animatedly, the bartender stomped over to them, irate. “Listen nerds, the other customers are getting annoyed at your stupid conversations. And no,” he remarked as Peter held up his empty glass, “I’m not making any more of those ‘blue milks’. This is a bar, not your parents’ basement.”

The trio knew they should get out before the sabers started flying. They had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to influence these weak minded people anyway (a notion that made Kelly reconsider her level of Force premonition skills). They got up to leave, pulling their robes on, hoods up so they wouldn’t have to make eye contact.

“Go back home, we don’t need your ComiCon dollars!” one patron berated as they left, the front door shutting out the rest of the taunts.

“I knew it would just be a wretched hive of scum and villainy,” Christopher gloated as they headed down the street.

“Who needs these nerf herders anyway,” Kelly grumbled. “Let’s just go home and put on the original trilogy.”

“Blu-ray?” Peter asked warily. “I know you bought that new box set Christopher, you know, with the pink sabers and blinking Ewoks. Laserbrain.” Feeling irritated (especially since he would likely never sell that stupid set), Christopher gestured to Peter with his thumb and index finger almost touching, while Peter fussed with his lightsaber replica (purple blade for Mace Windu; Peter preferred the Vaapad fighting style), which was snagged on his belt.

Kelly interrupted their argument. “No, I have the VHS tapes, HSF* edition. These don’t even have those stupid interviews beforehand.”

The other two looked at each other and nodded, forgoing their rivalry. Together they headed home, each wondering if the story of Earth would be retold many, many years from then, somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy, and thankful that Jar Jar Binks wouldn’t be a character in theirtale.

*Bonus to anyone who gets this reference.

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Trifecta XXVI / ZB XI – Heroes and Villians

This Week’s word is:

enig·ma noun \i-ˈnig-mə, e-\

1: an obscure speech or writing
2: something hard to understand or explain
3: an inscrutable or mysterious person

Please remember:
Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
The word itself needs to be included in your response.
You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
Your post must include a link back to Trifecta.
Please submit your post’s permalink, not the main page of your blog. For example: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/03/trifextra-week-eight.html not http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com.

You know what time it is?
Come along and sing the song!
Z-O-M-B-I-E B-U-N-N-Y!

Well our heroic siblings have been rescued, so we can all take a deep breath and relax…

Emma and Allen’s uneventful ride in the helicopter should have been relaxing, but with McMuscles sitting across from them, opening walnuts in his fists (Somehow, he managed to keep the brain shaped nuts intact) they shared an uneasy feeling.

“Where are we going?” Emma asked, after deciding Allen wasn’t going to.

He paused. “Empire Media Headquarters, ETA 10 minutes.”

Allen then spoke up impatiently. “What, are you collecting survivor stories?”

“We brought your father in this morning. Mr. Connar wants you all together.” Crack. End of conversation.

Despite Richard Connar’s public presence (and self- financed documentary), Emma and the general public still saw him as an enigma. Having watched ENN, she doubted his intentions were for some tearjerker reunion footage. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

* * *

They landed on the rooftop helipad as scheduled and were unceremoniously led to a penthouse conference room. Emma noticed the wall sized screen as they entered, broadcasting the neighborhood where they had been only a short time before. Bodies, both human and bunny, were scattered around the area, with gratuitous closeups of the grenade impact zone.

“Yes that’s the aftermath,” Connar announced with no introduction. “We shot your escape, and got another chopper out there making a little extra news for us.”

“Where’s our father?” Allen asked looking around suspiciously. Connar gestured impatiently.

“He’s doing his part, reassuring the public that KillEmAll will end this crisis.” He reached in his pocket and presented a thumb drive. “This information we rescued with him contains data on the project you and your colleagues worked on, Ms Appleby- the one that created the outbreak. Your father’s appeal to save you was more than paternal, thankfully.”

“We’re securing a government-grade laboratory for your use, and will monitor and even broadcast, your progress. Refusal is not an option. Oh and Allen,” he turned and nodded to McMuscles, who unholstered a very large handgun, “Push aside those thoughts of attacking me. We’re only looking for one type of hero right now.”

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Trifecta XXV / ZB X: Get to the Choppa!

The Word of the Week is:
thun•der noun \ˈthən-dər\

1: the sound that follows a flash of lightning and is caused by sudden expansion of the air in the path of the electrical discharge
2: a loud utterance or threat
3: bang, rumble [the thunder of big guns]

Ok Emma and Allen are STILL about to be fed to the bunnies while the cameras are rolling…but wait! A wild helicopter appears!


PJ Appleby jumped from his seat towards the screen. “Emma! Allen!”

Connar turned to him, a curious expression on his face. “You know those two?”

“I know my kids when I see them.” PJ replied evenly.

Connar’s demeanor changed; Appleby doubted his smiles were ever a source of comfort. “Really? Well, that changes things.” He clicked his remote again and sound burst from the speakers on the wall. The thumping of the rotors was in the background. “You hearing us, Murray?”

“Loud and clear,” Murray Bedward, EM Carchase Correspondent, replied.

“Good. Scratch that last plan. Screw the cultists, get me those prisoners.”

* * *

“Move!” Allen turned as he shouted the order, grabbing the cultist behind him who was distracted by the looming helicopter. They wrestled briefly for his gun, but the other man shoved and sent him sprawling over an air duct. He moved to Allen, bunny ears askew, and leveled his weapon.

*Blam!* The man’s head, and bunny ears exploded. Sprayed with bone and blood, Allen looked at the ‘copter and saw a camera, no wait, a side-mounted cannon spit another salvo at the other cultist, who was ignoring Emma and preparing to fire on them. His fate was even messier.

A ladder rope was lowered to them and they climbed on, Emma first. As Allen neared the top, the copter swayed, and a man in a cheap suit and deafening tie leaned over to block him. What the hell?, Allen thought.

“Too much weight,” the man proclaimed, and moved to hit Allen. Suddenly, he pitched forward, then tumbled out, taking a screaming nosedive into the pit of bunnies. Allen hauled himself into the passenger hold.

“That better?” He heard the voice and noticed a man sitting next to Emma, seemingly made of muscles, a green mohawk, and a grimace. He nonchalantly pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin, and tossed it down to the bunnies. “Try hiding that egg,” he catch- phrased as the thunder of the grenade explosion rumbled below them.

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Trifextra XIV / ZomBunnies IX: On the Edge

This weekend, we return to the 33-word prompt, but this time, a 33-word prompt with a twist. Your task, should you choose to accept, is to take a scene that involves (or affects) at least three people. You should then write this scene from the point of view of three of the characters, using 33 words for each character.

We left Emma and Allen in the clutches of the Hare Band, who plan to offer them as a sacrifice to the Zombie Bunnies. Each characters’s location/situation in the scene is italicized, POV is bolded.

Emma, looking down from a makeshift plank on the roof of the pet shop, at the horde of bunnies waiting underneath, trying to think up a plan –

Where’s an Artoo unit when you need one? Hell, I’d settle for a chick in a metal bikini. Great, my last thoughts are a nerdy fanboy’s. What the… a helicopter?! Allen, quick!

Richard Connar, watching the scene from the EM CopterCam video feed and talking to the reporting staff on board–

“We’re going live now, keep the camera on the victims… closer! I want to see and SMELL some fear. Right, interview the cultists afterwards, we can work a weekly series out of this.”

Allen, standing behind Emma, with zombie bunnies underneath, thinking typical guy thoughts –

We should have stayed with the other cult. I could have found out how furless that babe was. That Peep is repeating on me; nice last meal. What, Emma… ok they’re distracted! Move!

 

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Trifecta XXIV / Zombie Bunnies VIII: Off-Balance

This week’s word is ‘confidence’:
3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy <took his friend into his confidence>

b : reliance on another’s discretion <their story was told in strictest confidence>

c : support especially in a legislative body <vote of confidence>

In the interests of a cliffhanger for our two heros, let’s pick up the story from some other characters, and see how THEY are faring…


“I expect that our conversations will not be held in any form of confidence,” PJ Appleby chided Rich Connar, Overlord of Empire Media. They were in Connar’s executive meeting room on the penthouse of Tower Watch, EM’s flagship building. Appleby had just arrived by helicopter, spirited there by Connar’s security team from his own headquarters, and just in time; the bunnies were everywhere. Only he had made it.

“I’m glad we have that understanding,” was the others’ reply. “But it’s not what we know, but what we tell that matters.” His attention was focused on the wall covered in television panels showing simultaneous news reports; from pandemonium on unknown streets, to desolate farmlands, the horde was spreading across the screens. He was examining one video feed, a close up of a bunny’s tackily furred torso. It paid no mind to the camera as it fed on what remained of EM reporter DeeDee Lottagams.

“Such a waste. She was our finest looking reporter,” Connar explained. “DoubleDee could wear a bikini during Armageddon and have you convinced it was a Spring Break kegger.” He turned to Appleby. ”Another team is headed to a new hot spot. We’ll follow up with that. In the meantime, we’re setting up your interview with Don.”

Appleby winced. Donald Carcharias was the anchor of ‘Rake & Shovel’, the nation’s highest rated interview program. Q&A’s with Don reduced more than one world leader to tears, and just last month, a well- known actress had attempted suicide on- air during a frenzied grilling.

Connar noticed Appleby’s expression and gave a cruel smile. “Oh don’t worry. You have information we need to mine and refine for the public good. Now, let’s…” He paused and tapped his earbud headset. After listening for a moment, he pulled a small remote device from his pocket; the screens combined to one large live video. Appleby’s heart dropped as he watched the scenario unfold.

“Now this,” Connar shouted with mad glee, “this, is a story!”

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Trifecta XXIV – Zombie Bunnies VII – Peeple are Peeple

This week’s word is ‘confidence’:
3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy <took his friend into his confidence>

b : reliance on another’s discretion <their story was told in strictest confidence>

c : support especially in a legislative body <vote of confidence>

On the heels of a second place finish (which made my week), and some of the awesomest feedback ever, I too wondered, what happens next? I’ve actually started an outline and will probably create some page that links them chronologically.

For now, let’s continue where we left off…


“What occurred here must remain in the strictest of confidence. We put days of effort into building this new order, and will not have it bastardized by others. Particularly ‘The Hare Band’, as they are known,” he spoke with obvious disgust. A rival faction of crazies, Emma thought. Some things never change.

“Well we’re just passing through, but your secret is safe with us,” she promised. Like anyone would believe it. Echo sighed and shook his head. “Know that we can offer no protection when you encounter them.” As they re- slung their backpacks, they were each offered a yellow marshmallow Peep attached to a simple nylon lanyard from the un-furred young woman. “For luck,” she stated, holding them out proudly. “I made them myself.”

** *

“You’re actually wearing it,” Emma badgered Allen, as they pulled out of the garage.

“I like ‘em stale,” was his reply.

** *

WHEN you encounter them is what he said, Emma reflected, not IF. Should have known. She didn’t share that epiphany with Allen, who was cursing at having missed the now obvious nail strip that blew out the van’s tires.

Several figures emerged from an abandoned pet shop on their right. They were armed with automatic rifles, a juxtaposition to the, yes, Emma realized, rabbit ear headbands.

“We don’t want any trouble, we were leaving town,” she declared.

“Leaving?” One man said nasally, a rubber pink nose twitching on his face. “Then why’re you wearing the talisman of the Bunnymen!?” he shouted accusingly. She turned and saw Allen attempting to eat the evidence, but it was too late.

They were herded out of the van, their backpacks confiscated, to their captors’ burrow. As they walked, Emma tried to think of some escape plan.

“Listen, how about we join…”

“No, you’ve likely eaten of the Hallowed Bunny,” Pink Nose stated, “and therefore are impure. However, you are still useful to us in ensuring our survival. Rather than waste our ammunition against unending hordes, we placate them with… a sacrifice!”

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Zombie Bunnies Vl – Welcome to the Fold

This week’s word is observe – to celebrate or solemnize (as a ceremony or festival) in a customary or accepted way.

We’ll continue the Zombie Bunnies adventure, as Emma and Allen head for the city.


An hour later they arrived at Delta Springs. By that point, the truck was running on fumes, they were shorter on patience and hopes of safety were even lower still as they entered the city. Cruising down an empty, wide boulevard at a steady twenty, a flickering light caught their attention. “Dammit, who’s trying to blind me?” Allen complained. Emma leaned forward and realized it was a mirror reflecting the sunlight; a crude but noiseless beacon. Someone had spotted them, and was at least willing to take them in.

“Go straight, three more blocks,” Emma directed, then opened her pack. She checked the clip on the handgun and put it on the armrest for him, drawing the machete for herself.

As they approached, an oversized metal gate at the bottom of a four story brick building was pulled up, two men wearing long heavy coats emerging. They were armed with flamethrowers, and leveled their weapons at an angle away from their truck; looking at the rear view mirror, Emma noticed the bushy tailed swarm hopping only twenty feet behind them, suddenly awash in fire. They pulled inside the garage and the door slammed shut.

* * *

“We’re not savages you know.”

This, from a guy wearing zombie rabbit pelts, Emma thought, you doth protest too much. Just the danger of nicking your finger while skinning them; if that meant status, she’d prefer anonymity in this group.

“Call me Echo,” he continued, his tone heavy with self- importance. Emma had a feeling she knew what the survivors were called*. Emma and Allen introduced themselves, but were interrupted from asking any questions.

“Before proceeding further, let us observe a moment of reflection and celebration for our newest members.” A non- furred young woman approached and handed him a colorful rectangular cardboard box. Opening the top, he pulled out a chocolate Easter Bunny. As he broke it into pieces for the others lining up before him, Emma absently fingered the two bullets in her pocket.


*Bonus points for anyone who guesses the name of the group 😉

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Write On Edge – Indebted (Cold Brain, Warm Hands ll)

Yeap, I joined another assignment/ contest/ challenge. Why not right? There are two things that inspire me; good ideas and good feedback. Which makes this one stop shopping, and I got plenty of words to spend.

So WriteOnEdge has their own legit thing going, and you should check it out/get in on it, especially if you follow any other challenges.

The theme here is Paying What you Owe. From bills to contracts, oaths, promises and maybe even a judgment from Judge Judy, everybody owes something. Word limit is a healthy 500 woids.

This is a continuation from Cold Brain Warm Hands which I recommend you read the first part to, well first, to see where this action picks up from. The theme inspired this story faster than Zombie Bunnies, buuuut I hope you enjoy it anyway 😉
Feedback is always appreciated!


Diggs didn’t move, but his mind ran through their options, Whomever it was knew what was on the other end of that camera. The mystery man stood frozen, and that was his mistake; Diggs was going to show no quarter here. If he had a post in this place, he was the enemy. The line between their sides was clear.

The other man thawed out and made a move – not to the terminal beside him, where a simple command would set off lights, klaxons and certain death for Diggs and his men. Instead, he stepped towards the door. Diggs signaled, sensing his team getting into position immediately. The agent moved closer, and as Diggs tracked his movement, pulled out a small device and put it to the door. A soft signal in his helmet told him the lock was released. Wordlessly they sprang into action.

It was three seconds before they had the agent pinned up against the wall, the room secured, and the door closed again. Because of the suits, to anyone watching, he was held accosted by phantoms. Diggs continued to hold the hostage while the others studied the computer display and attempted to gain access without setting off any alarms.

“Stop! Stop, I can…” the agent struggled to get his words out, his throat held tight by Diggs. He didn’t struggle too much; smart move, as a quick twist of the wrist would have been quick and easy. He tried to speak, sputtering random words, and Diggs suddenly recognized something he said. He released the man, and tapped a command on his wrist. The stealth suit became visible.

“Sir?” one of the team asked. Diggs turned towards the shadowy form.

“He knows the infiltrator code,” Diggs answered, turning back to the agent, who was lightly exploring his tender neck. “You could have said it before opening the door. Other teams wouldn’t let you get a word out.”

The man spoke, his voice raspy. “Right, I know. I just figured you knew I have been getting you all through since Beta.” He turned on another computer screen, which showed a series of hallways one by one. “All the alarms were put on rotation by me, as soon as I recognized your pattern. I have to admit, you have perfect timing. No anomalies whatsoever; The Brain has no idea you are here.”

“Well thanks, then. Your name?” Diggs asked.

“Dysen. I’m from Alliance Corps.”

“Dysen, we owe you.” Diggs patted the man’s shoulder and nodded approvingly. With a flick of his other wrist however, he released a blade that found its way to Dysen’s chest. The agent slid to the floor, wordlessly. Diggs knew his men would never question his action, but he looked at their vague forms to explain.

“The code he gave was ‘stone, base, one’. That was Peters’, an infiltrator confirmed dead six months ago’s call sign. I knew Peters and that wasn’t him.”

He looked back at the body. “Guess I settled two debts then.”

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Trifecta Challenge – Cold Brain, Warm Hands

This week’s word is: brain (noun)
Third definition–
3: something that performs the functions of a brain; especially : an automatic device (as a computer) for control or computation

Something between 33 and 333 words. I got the limit 😉
Enjoy! Feedback, if you please!


The soldier double-timed it silently through the corridor; not even a squeak from his boots could be heard. Ahead, the hallway was clear, unfurnished, subtle details making it seem as though the corridor was part of a film loop. It would be all too easy to lose one’s bearings, and he had one shot at this.

Diggs, the squad leader, stopped and gave a level fist to the others. If they were even there. The cloakers were good; without a helmet, a slight blur would be all anyone’s eyes and brain registered. He had to assume though; they were his soldiers.

Diggs had stopped beside an unmarked door; the map he was following on the HUD told him this was the place. He didn’t have a GPS link; he and everyone else would know exactly where he was. When your target was the central brain of an AI network, multitasking was their forte.

Well counter-insurgency was his specialty. It was going to be a test of wills.

A small bundle was passed to him by the men who were indeed there; he uncoiled the thin rubber cord and uncapped the camera lens at the tip. There was the minimum amount of space under the door, but the cord, perfectly matched in color to the flat gray door, pancaked flat as it slid under. Diggs grimaced as he slid the connector into his helmet port; it reminded him too much of these fucking machines. The enhanced outfit was tolerable only because of its effectiveness.

The sound of their breathing was almost audible; a low hum made the air vibrate ever so slightly. Like blood flowing through the veins, he thought; I guess we’re the poison.

There was audio as well as video, and the HUD came to life. He shuddered at the sight; it was everything they hoped it wouldn’t be.

The coldest machine still needs a warm hand for guidance. Diggs found himself staring back at a face as shocked as his.

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