Bloggaday: Bloggaday 178 – PWND: The Supernatural Handicap Battle Royal of the Century Christmas Party Spectacular

Bloggaday 178 – PWND: The Supernatural Handicap Battle Royal of the Century Christmas Party Spectacular

After this Bloggaday, you are exactly 4,700 words into the story, about 1k shy of myself. I still need to write a few more thousand before sending it in by the 20^th. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like I’ll have much time to edit it, not like that would help though. Enjoy!

The call for submissions that inspired me

http://www.undeadinthehead.com/p/call-for-submissions.html

Bloggaday 1

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/06/bloggaday-136-pwnd-supernatural.html

Bloggaday 2

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/07/bloggaday-139-post-pwnd-supernatural.html

Bloggaday 3

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/07/bloggaday-140-post-pwnd-supernatural.html

Bloggaday 4

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/07/bloggaday-143-supernatural-handicap.html

Bloggaday 5… Kinda

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/07/bloggaday-150-supernatural-handicap.html

Bloggaday 6

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/07/bloggaday-157-supernatural-handicap.html

Bloggaday 7

http://thebloggaday.blogspot.com/2010/08/bloggaday-171-pwnd-supernatural.html

Melinda said, “Wow, It’s kinda depressing to have a zombie apocalypse on Christmas, eh?”

Paul nodded as he gritted his teeth for another push, but Sandra said, “It’s actually rather fitting, don’t you think?”

Melinda gave a little gasp before she asked, “What do you mean?”

Leveling her back against the doror, Sandra threw herself into it’s steel interior. “Well, Jesus came back from the dead, so it seems like an apt apocalypse for the occasion.”

Paul paused, leaning against the door and taking a breath. “Shouldn’t this have happened on Easter then?”

Sandra chuckled, but Melinda looked at the pair with just a bit of shocked horror. “You two are terrible.”

After a pressurizing hiss came from across the room, Henric called, “I’m in.” The ground began lifting in front of him. He waved the others over, not taking his eyes from the new path before him.

The three examined the seams of their new door before backing towards Henric. Melinda was the first of the trio and hurdled the gurney. Paul cleared it next, but paused once he was over.

Sandra sprinted after the couple, but she leaned forward and went to plant her hand to vault over the gurney. A moment before she planted her hand, Paul grabbed her wrist, and she sailed over the skewed frame. She stumbled once she returned to the ground, looking back to him.

Switching his gaze back and forth, he looked from her to the gurney. “Metal, remember?”

Her eyes widened before she said, “There is no way that is electrified… right?”

Paul slid from the gurney, replacing his body with a point and several wires wrapped around the gurney’s metal frame. “My guess would be: yes.”

“Enough,” Henric’s voice came. As he sank into the new hole, jarring step by jarring step, he finished, “We must hurry.”

Melinda was the first to follow as she hopped from step to step, disappearing more with each jump. A few quicksteps later, and Sandra was already following the pair down. Paul’s eyes scanned the room one last time as he backed towards the hatch. He wrapped a massive hand around its edge and began to pull it close when he noticed the keypad. The bloody smudges of fingerprint remnants dotted several of the numbers. “Hmm,” Paul nodded to himself, chin pulled forward and lips puckered.

Paul’s oversized frame made its way down the steps as the hatch sealed the roof above him. He joined the others who stood around broken glass and a shattered door.

“It appears to be some kind of decontamination room,” Sandra said, her head peaking into the shards.

“Well, let’s go,” Paul said, taking the last few steps.

Henric intercepted him, pale skin nearly glowing in the dim fluorescent lighting. “Put this on.”

Paul took the red, plastic suit from the smaller man and looked it over incredulously. “Quite frankly, I don’t really care about the sanitation in there.”

With a shake of the head, Henric said, panting, “No, it’s not for that.” He turned to Melinda with the last suit in hand.

“We’ve long theorized something,” Sandra started. “Vampirism and lycanthropy are both strains of the current zombie disease.”

Paul laughed as he held the suit to his frame. “That’s for the suit and your theory. I don’t eat brains.”

“No,” Henric said empty-handed. “But your pathological ancestors might have done so. During its infancy, the disease we see today didn’t infect humans. It infected animals and probably had an extremely high lethality rate. Somewhere along the way, an infected wolf and bat managed to bite humans and transferred the infection to us. It likely took the same path as the current zombie infection, most became mindless killers while certain infected individuals would positively mutate.”

“So we’re like super zombies?” Paul asked. A sharpened canine showed from between his lips as he tried stretching the HAZMAT suit.

Listening to

American Honky-Tonk Bar Association

Twitter Tag

6k in, I’m trying to finish the last couple thousand before 20^th. Here’s part 8 of my zombie fiction.

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

Youtube Awesomeness

http://www.youtube.com/user/DavidDysart Still deciding to try to capture it or let it slip