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Week Nine [Weekly Writing Challenges] Read 1080 times

Krystal Itzume

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Week Nine [Weekly Writing Challenges]
« on: September 29, 2014, 02:26:37 pm »
It is October, lovelies! That means themes more along the horror genre (though you need not make them horror, it is your creative opportunity to make them romances or comedies if you see fit!).

~***~

Theme of themes: Zombie Apocalypse

Words to use: Week(s), Memory(ies), Bible.

Other: No other requirements ^-^

Runic Blade

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Re: Week Nine [Weekly Writing Challenges]
« Reply #1 on: September 29, 2014, 11:57:48 pm »
Zombie apocalypse -- couldn't you come up with anything more silly?!   :ninja: :eyeball: :pikachu:

I was bored enough, so here ya go

---

*** Zombies versus Aliens ***

{ Somewhere above Earth }

A shimmering chrome disc descended into the atmosphere of the blue planet.  Wisps of clouds passed the windows of the disc.  The inhabitants peered out the windows.  Their eyes were big black orbs, without irises.  The beings stared intently, quite curious about this new world.  The spacecraft's engine whirred, but otherwise the ship was silent.  Soon, brown and green land forms could be made out in front of the ship's hull.  The ship sunk further as it approached one of the desolate cities.

"They called their planet Earth," one of the aliens said.  He held his thin gray fingers to his chest.  "And they called themselves the Humans."

Another alien, who was taller and had wrinkled skin, stood beside the first alien.  He said, "A sad story.  The humans seemed to have had everything going for them but they decided to kill themselves off over imaginary ideas.  Now they're extinct and all we have left are the ruins of their world."

A short alien, with softer skin and who was younger than the other two, jumped onto the window sill so he could see out the spaceship window better.  He asked, "Grandfather, what are the ideas that proved so deadly to them?"  His voice was lighter than the rest, almost musical.

The grandfather alien looked to the young alien.  "First, they divided themselves into 'countries' or 'nations' for no reason in particular, except that they needed an excuse to have an enemy to kill.  Each of these so-called nations set out on a path to become stronger than all the others so they could kill all the people in the other nations."

"But why?  Why didn't they just get along with one another?" the younger alien asked.

Grandfather frowned.  "Well, it does seem strange, but it is simple to explain.  One person--let's call him 'the asshole'--made himself a leader of each imaginary nation.  He then tricked all his followers--let's call them 'the army'--to believe that all the other people in other places were 'the enemy'.  Not only that, but the army had to risk their lives to hunt down this supposed enemy!"

"Surely not all the humans would fall for such a foolish plan!  Why didn't they just talk to one another to work out their differences instead of fighting?"

The grandfather alien laughed.  "It does seem ridiculous, doesn't it?  This is a barbaric race.  Enough humans were fooled by their leaders to put their species in perpetual warfare for nearly their entire existence.  Millions of humans killed each other over trivial things like oil wells and religion."

The first alien shook his head in sorrow and said, "Son, the human story is a tragedy.  Please climb down from that window sill -- the ship is going to land in three minutes."

"Alright, father," said the young alien as he jumped off the window sill.  He strapped himself into a nearby chair.  Grandfather and father alien then sat and buckled themselves into their seats next to the child.

{ On Earth's Surface }

A finger of rotting flesh flipped through the pages of an open Bible.  The pages were stained with mucus and blood.  The zombie's long yellowing fingernail moved through the words of each verse, trying to find something appropriate for the occasion.  As was the case with most zombies, the priest's memory was poor.  Although he'd studied the Bible before he died, in his zombie form the priest had trouble remembering even the most basic teachings of the book.

His followers, also zombies, surrounded him in the city park amphitheater.  The stench of their decay wafted on the hot afternoon breeze.  Rather than sitting, the zombies stood.  Some held their arms out in front of them in the stereotypical zombie fashion.  However, most of the zombies kept their arms at their sides.  They were ordinary except for the poor condition of their flesh and the ratty clothing they wore.  Having risen from the dead a week ago, none of them had changed or bathed since then.  Such things were unimportant to them.

Each zombie had a weapon of some sort.  Most zombies had small weapons like steak knives or hammers, but some had gone all out with actual swords and homemade armor.  One particularly inventive zombie had removed a stop sign from a pole to use the sign as a shield and had sharpened the pole into a makeshift spear.  Another had made some chainmail out of the pull-tabs of beer cans and carried a garden hoe as a weapon.

"This was foretold in the book of Revelation," the Zombie Priest announced.  "Allow me to list the signs of the apocalypse:

"One: Hail and fire from the sky.  Did we not see this with the Russian nuclear bombs that fell upon our city, destroying the world?

"Two: A star falls from the sky.  Look... behind me, the falling star appears."

The zombie pointed up at the alien spaceship.  The underside of its hull glowed from the heat of the atmospheric re-entry.  The spaceship was on a direct landing path for the city park.  "Satan is coming in his vessel!" the zombie priest shouted.

"Three: Locusts with human faces came forth from the vessel to torture man."

The zombie spread his arms wide.  "My children, the beings that descend upon us now are the locusts of Satan!  We must destroy them all!  Kill them each and every one of them."

The zombies beat their makeshift weapons together and roared in celebration.

{ Back on the Spaceship }

The ship's lights dimmed as it approached the landing site.  They had chosen a grassy clearing in one of the ruins of the old human cities to land.

*kuh-chunk*  The ship's landing gear hit the ground and its passengers rose from their seats.

Grandfather alien said, "I think we should collect the remnants of human cultural artifacts.  Their artwork and books would be a good addition to our museum.  This is the best way to preserve the memory of the extinct human species."

The three aliens waited near the exit of their ship.  Once the landing plank lowered, the spaceship door whooshed open.  Much to the aliens' shock, a horde of undead humans was waiting for them below.

"Look!  The locusts of Satan!" shouted the zombie priest.  He pointed at the three gray-skinned aliens.  "Destroy them!!!"  The zombies raised their weapons and clambered towards the alien spaceship.

The alien child shrieked.  "Grandfather, I thought you said the humans were extinct."

The grandfather alien's face paled--or at least as much as a gray-skinned alien can pale.  "The humans are extinct--these are ZOMBIES!"

The aliens tried to close the gangplank and spaceship door, but it was too late... the zombies had already crowded into the entrance of the alien ship.

The zombies grabbed the aliens and ate them.

The end.

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Week Nine [Weekly Writing Challenges]
« Reply #2 on: October 05, 2014, 05:37:14 pm »
Cremation was starting to look like a great idea to the Cleric of Ananke, as she sat huddled in a barn, far away from the chaos of earlier. With her also sat two others of a party that had once numbered five. There was Longinus, a powerful warrior, and Brendan, the beast-master who had lost all control over most beasts they encountered. After all, most beasts they encountered were dead.

Most anything they encountered was dead.

Their sorceress, a bit fire-happy, was dead. Their paladin, another servant of Ananke had been corrupted when they found the reason behind the dead-rising. Despite all Kachee’s yells at him, her brother by blood and faith, she couldn’t reach him. Brendan and Longinus had to drag her out in their retreat.

“We need to venture south,” Brendan was saying, “There’s a dragon I know there. He’ll help. He must help.”

“Unless he’s dead,” Loningus grumbled.

“He might retain his mind even then.”

“Do you want to risk that? We can’t kill a dragon, if we have to, Brendan. We aren’t strong enough.”

“Do you want to just surrender then?!”

Kachee tuned them out and buried her head in her knees, thoughts drifting far into the past. “It doesn’t seem like we have a choice. There’s no fighting this.”

The memories overtook her.

She could see the castle looming before the five. The rain was torrential that night. “We’ll end this,” Mercury told them, white lion stepping up to his side in agreement. That was not Brendan’s, but a gift of Ananke for his faith and power. “We can still save this world if we can kill the evil within. It is necessary that we do.”

There was silent agreement, and the group trouped forward. The door was unlocked. That should have been the first sign to worry. They ventured in, but at the room with the stairs they needed, they encountered a hoard of the undead—no doubt, the villagers.


Kachee shivered. It was why this village now was so quiet.

“I’ll take care of it. Go ahead, just go!” Ari had yelled at them as she took her place at the base of the stairs, shielding them all from the zombies with her powerful spells. Up they ran, up and up to the top where they were being waited for.

They had expected a lich, but what they found was a simple, mortal, mage, who was running an experiment that got out of control. The mage had no control over the magic’s spread. It had infected the earth. The dead were rising everywhere, and all those who were killed became one of their numbers. He knew of no way to reverse it.

At least, that was the story he wove when challenged by Mercury for an explanation, winning Mercury’s sympathy and the promise to help him get to a location where he might better research a way to reverse it. Then the damnable wizard touched Mercury’s armor, and it began to blacken. The screams from Mercury were heart-rending as something else seemed to take him over, something that caused him to kill his loyal lion when it tried to rip the armor off of him, something that caused him to stand at the wizard’s side and protect him from Brendan’s two wolves and her spells.


“If we could save Mercury—”

“Mercury is dead to us!” Longinus snapped, and she looked up from her knees to glare at him. He was unphased. “Your deity is the deity of necessity. What is necessary is for us to stop this, by any means. Look at your own bible once in a while,” she flinched there. She was often told she was too compassionate for this path. “There’s no time to waste saving Mercury. We could endanger what is left of the living human race.”

A fireball raced by the open barn door and struck a building not far away. “I think it is necessary that we escape and head south. We can check the dragon, but there’s a magic school just past the Antas mountains. Perhaps they’ll…be able to help.”

“I’ll run ahead and see if I can find us some horses or something,” Brendan rose. “Meet me at the clearing from earlier,” he said, but Longinus grabbed his arm.

There were tears in the warrior’s eyes now. “No more splitting up.”

And outside, it was their sorceress that laughed as the barn suddenly caught fire.

~***~

“And that’s where we have to end for today!” The Latin man behind the books told them all, to a mixture of groans and exclamations. Dice fell on the table, those who were preparing to roll to evade burning death, clearly irritated.

“You son of a bitch!” The blond who played Mercury declared, “You corrupted my paladin. I told you just once, just once, I was going to play a good guy and you do this!” He didn’t sound angry at all.

“Yup.”

“So, wait, is there a way to save him?” Their sorceress, a mousy girl with glasses, inquired. “I know I’m re-rolling a character this week.”

“Maaaybe. He should re-roll, though, too, if he wants to be a part of main-party shenanigans.”

“If I re-roll, do I still get use of Mercury in your evil sideplots?”

“Of course. I mean,” he motioned to the sorceress, “She gets to play with us, too, but away from the good guys.”

“You’re a jerk,” the cleric was not serious, though she tried her best.

“Fucking Tyler is. You killed my wolves, mate. My wolves.”

“I killed our MVP. My lion….”

“We’re all screwed.” The warrior at last declared, and there was silent agreement with him.