Bloggaday 157 – The Supernatural Handicap Battle Royal of the Century Christmas Party Spectacular pt 6
I’ve got to say, this piece has become MUCH longer than I had originally planned. It’s longer than any other fiction I’ve released on the Bloggaday. Initially, I was going to end it shortly after the zombies were eating the baby Jesus* and the Intestines Guy turned. Then I created a zombie explanation, and now the vampires and werewolves have got to go and do something. I will say though, things are about to get real, and when I say real, I mean really real, stuff’s about to hit the fan real.
Unfortunately, due to the length and limited Christmas theme, I’ll probably have to write something else for the Charity Anthology that I initially wrote this for.** If you would like to help some foster children this Christmas season, you can go over to http://www.undeadinthehead.com/p/call-for-submissions.html and get more information.
Really, the length isn’t that bad. I’m at about 3,500 words and will probably close out at 5k. The contest parameters state 3-10k, but I should probably come up with something a little more Christmassy.
To get you guys caught up, you kind find the first 5 posts of The Supernatural Handicap Battle Royal of the Century Christmas Party Spectacular
Bloggaday 5… Kinda
You’re reading it right about now…
“So why don’t you think the original zombie isn’t among these ones?” Paul asked.
“Because it’s nearly impossible for this advanced of a zombie to occur naturally. Such a positive mutation takes much longer than it would take for a degenerative zombie to go wild and kill every other zombie around it.”
Paul gestured to the chaos and said, “Then how did this happen?”
“That’s where you come in, Paul,” Henric said.
Paul offered his own arched eyebrow and waited for Henric to continue.
“You said you handle a lot of the custom work around here.”
“Yeah,” Paul said, “but… Ohh, you’re thinking someone was breeding zombies around here.”
Henric nodded and continued, “It would have to be large to accommodate so many zombies. Also, it would have to have multiple smaller chambers to segregate the positive mutations from the dangerous zombies.
“I don’t… No, I think I know what you’re talking about. I thought it was just for… Well, it’s just best if I not say what I thought it was for.”
“At any rate, we must got to this house and eliminate the zombie. As long as we do this, we will be fine. The city can take care of itself.”
“But what about Steve?” Melinda whined.
“Don’t worry, Honey. I had to kill Steve like 5 minutes ago,” Paul said, finally dropping the dead weight.
“Son of a catea.” Sandra cursed. “Now I have to train another man for it.”
“Oh, Sweety Pie. Why?” Melinda asked.
“He zombed out on me. I’m sorry, Melinda. I know how much you liked him,” the baritone explained
“Oh, that’s okay, Paul,” she said, patting him on the arm.
“Well,” Sandra said, “I guess we do not have to worry about the hospital anymore.”
“Yes,” Henric agreed, “we really need to get to this house you built. Do you remember where it was?”
Paul scanned past the immediate carnage and chaos before saying, “Um, yeah. It’s… Yeah, we’ve been heading in the right direction. We just need to hop over a few blocks to the east. If we go up another street we can loop…” As Melinda sprinted into the yard of a house, Paul trailed off.
“I suppose it would be considerably quicker to just cut through a few gardens,” Sandra said.
“And much more dangerous, even for us,” Henric said.
Paul broke into a trot to the darkened and echoing housing. Meekly, he yelled softly, “Honey, wait for me.”
Henric bowed toward the houses and offered Sandra his arm. “Shall we, my love?”
“Oh, yes,” she exclaimed. “Zombies and gore. You truly do know how to show a woman a good time.” The two only cleared the asphalt before they broke into sprint.
The couples continued to pick up speed, slashing through the occasional zombie that managed to combine the unfortunate attributes of being smart enough, but also fast enough to get in their way. They cleared the blocks after only a few seconds, but Paul had already taken the lead and stopped them. He pointed to a towering Brownstone that stood as only one among the mansions that surrounded it.
“It’s that one there,” he said.
“Ooo, are you sure, now?” Melinda asked. “Don’t want to be breaking into any ol’ house, don’t you know. They might go ahead and shoot us, thinkin’ we’re zombies and all of that, trying to eat their brains.”
JoCo and Thing a Week
Part 6 of my Christmas zombie story is up and linking to the first 5, only on Bloggaday
Exit stage right to my corner of the interweb > \/
http://twitter.com/daviddysart Plaster Caster Twitter Strutter
http://daviddysart.tumblr.com/ Hung My Head in a Tumblr
http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/ A Little Less Conversation and a Whole Lotta Love
http://www.facebook.com/thedaviddysart?ref=sgm If I Never See Your Face Again
http://www.youtube.com/user/DavidDysart Still deciding to try to capture it or let it slip
For the Piccaday
http://s1000.photobucket.com/albums/af128/daviddysart/Piccaday/ Says I broke it twice, I must have done it half a dozen times
http://thepiccaday.blogspot.com/ Because Yesterdays ain’t got nothing on me
http://www.flickr.com/photos/daviddysart/sets/72157623465996877/ From the nest in the hills chillin’ with Flynt
New to the Bloggaday? These are the essential posts to see
1 The basics
3 Get PWND with story content
73 Mash-up of science and relatable humor? It’s just Bloggaday
85 Deadpan humor and drama, what more can you want?
118 Maybe some practical real world advice drowned in humor.
137 My new favorite segments, the Sotw and PoM with Tom and Chuck
157 July 21
* It’s a Christmas story, so he attacked a decoration
** Is it bad that I enjoy ending sentences with prepositions?***
*** After all, that’s why I got into writing. It wasn’t for the fame and the money****. It wasn’t for the cathartic release; it was to piss off grammar Nazis***** and be able to through creative license in their face.
***** Everybody should hate Nazis******
****** It’s the American Way.