Archive for the ‘Zombies’ Category

Hello,

I know I’ve been quiet but with good reason. I have been hard at work as I have been working on anthology submissions and, as mentioned before, it got excepted and I’ve been working on edits.

I have also been working on Spilt Blood sequel and that is with my publisher at the moment as is my first ever completed novel Twisted Coven and i am waiting to hear back, I just hope she likes them.

While I wait I have been working Hell Hath No Fury, a book where I have used my best friends daughter, who is only a few years younger than me, as the ghost in the book who is rather pissed off and is looking for revenge and I am looking forward to showing my awesome publisher that book.

So yes, I’ve been Busy, i also have my mum over for a week and we have a lot planned, I also have a few things planned this weekend as it’s my birthday so I am doing an event on the 29, I’m also doing a sale on both books for the weekend and a giveaway in the event and one on my page.

Click here to like my facebook and be in with a chance of winning some goodies.

Happy Monday

Simone

Morning all,

I hope you all had an awesome weekend, I watched woman in black yesterday and I really enjoyed it. It had the what you can see but you can hear going on but it wasn’t all that, it was a bit of a mind bender, my favorite type of horror.

I’m hoping to build my Facebook page and get up to two hundred lime so if you guys could go and check it out for me that would be awesome.   Click here

I have a few things coming up soon, I’m so excited about them and I can’t wait to share them with you.

Tomorrow I’ll be sharing a poem with you once my kick ass beta reads had a look over it and I’m also thing of doing a giveaway.
What prizes would you like to see?

Hope your Monday is merry.

Simone

Hello guys

 

So summer’s on its way out and the nights are becoming longer and longer but the best news is that Halloween is getting closer to, that and winter solstice is near too.

I have been thinking about a few things of late including why I became a writer. The truth is I never set out to be an author. I used to write, as a child, to express my fantasies about my favourite TV show characters paying special attention to Michael Shanks, Tom Welling and Nick Lea to name but a few.

During my time at University I began writing a book on child abuse, types, how to investigate and so on. During that time I got the idea for a novel originally titled Blakesmith Catacombs, now titled Twisted Covern. When I moved to York I started a writing class and my teacher told me that it was worth publishing.

The class opened something in my head and soon I was over run with ideas. Red Eyes and Shattered Souls were originally submissions for anthology’s but were release on their own and now Spilt Blood has been signed.

I have fallen in love with it and the reviews I’ve had have pushed me forward.

Happy writing

Simone

Hi guys,

 

I mentioned in my last post a book, anthology compiled by several different and talented author titled ‘Bloody Sexy’.

I read the book in a matter of days and here’s my review.

A new release from Vamptasy Publishing is Bloody Sexy, a compilation of short sexy sultry stories with twists that will keep you reading. The poetry excelled and worked with the overall concept of the anthology.
I enjoyed the fact that the tales began with the thought that it was about one thing and the twists turn it into some you’re not expecting and it goes in a different direction.
The quality of the writing was excellent making the reading the words easy and enjoyable. Nothing was over written or overly complex ensuring entertainment without losing your place.
The book is filled with adult content and involves sexual lust with other situations that only serve to enhance the readers experience.
I recommend the book for all those over eighteen.

It’s a steal at the price of 99c (USA) or 77p (UK).

Click here to get your copy.

Happy writing.

 

Simone

Enjoy the book.

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Hello Readers,

So while I’ve been busy with “Spilt Blood” my good friend Carmilla Voiez has bee putting together some tales for you to check out. “Bloody Sexy” is released on Friday and I’ll be reviewing it for her but here’s what I can share with you.

First a run down on what it is and a small exert from one of the stories.

The book is for 18+ readers only and delves into many aspects of human (and demonic) sexuality. It is not for the sheepish or easily offended.

Demons, zombies, vampires, werewolves, ghosts and murder are just some of the characters and plots you will find within these pages and the erotica is full on – hot, hot, hot!

The anthology will be released for sale at only 99c or 77p. This is an introductory price so hurry, don’t wait. Why would you want to wait?

Excerpt –

From Sex Magic, by Carmilla Voiez –

I knew I was in trouble when she strode across the room towards me, her hair pulled back into a ponytail so tight that it seemed to stretch her almond-shaped eyes even wider. I tried to look busy, picked up the phone and put it back down again with a grimace as she landed heavily in the chair on the other side of the desk and pouted. As her legs crossed one way then the other I saw a flash of stocking-tops. Keep calm, I told myself, don’t get flustered again. You’re a professional.
“Lily.” Her voice was like a warm sunset, as the purple sky above and the crimson light below met and melted into each other.
I nodded, swallowing hard.
“I need you.”
My flesh tingled and I couldn’t believe my ears. “You…”
“Bloody Hera has fucked off sick again and two important clients are coming at eight.”
My stomach crashed to the floor, of course, she needed me to work late, that was all. I was a fool to think she needed anything else. She would be able to get everything she needed and more. Her clothes screamed wealth while her polished fingernails, glossy mouth and impossibly high stiletto heels promised a wild hunger that could not be tamed; this was a woman who was never left unsatisfied.
I blushed. “I don’t…”
“You’re just meeting and greeting. Bring them into the executive suite then wait outside. You can do that, can’t you?”
I gulped and my eyelids felt heavy. I nodded mechanically. I could do that, yes, but I could do so much more if she let me.
“Get yourself something to eat and come back at seven.”
“What should I wear?”
She glared at me and I felt my body tighten under the weight of her stare.
She shook her head. “That, nothing, who gives a shit? You’ll be wearing a robe over the top of it anyway and they aren’t here for you…”
They would be here for her. I understood. I had known since a week after I started how Robin earned her living. If the furtive voices at the other end of the telephone line hadn’t been evidence enough I had peeked into the executive suite once before. She had left the door ajar, probably thinking she was alone in the office and I couldn’t resist. What I had seen still made me shiver. It wasn’t simply terrifying, it was the promise of something greater, something so potent that it would raise a person out of their humdrum life and transform them, although into what I wasn’t quite sure.
“Seven,” I repeated, nodding.
“Well hurry up then,” she growled.
I grabbed my handbag and scurried away.

All of my regular readers will know plenty About Carmilla with previous release information and the interview I did with her not long ago. So here is a few author bio’s of the others involved.

Charlotte Ondac
A writer with a loving partner and two children. Heavily inspired by writers such as Anne Rice, particularly The Vampire Chronicles, interested by dark Gothic horror. Especially focused on the mythology of vampires, and the erotic nature of these beings. Lives in Wales, working in education. A practicing pagan, Charlotte Ondac has a deep interest in ancient mythology, and wishes to explore how these ancient mythologies could affect our current world, and our views of humanity. Wishes to explore more into the dark eroticism of vampires, and other strange creatures.

M Jet
M Jet is wild, wicked, and free. She proudly possesses a roaming Gypsy spirit, having gone many places, learned, experienced, and done many things. Of M Jet, people often say she has a special darkness that draws a person in despite her attempts to turn them away. M Jet employs magical thinking. The mysterious Ms. Jet is a lover of all things dark, sad, sometimes sexy. Some of her previously published works include, “Mojo”, “I Killed Collette”, “High on Her”, and “Death Wind.” M Jet’s first full length novel will be released by CHBB and is a story called, “Mary Contrary,” that is inspired by actual events.

So check out “Bloody Sexy” and remember that us authors learn from reviews if our work.

Hope you had a brilliant bank holiday weekend.

Happy Writing

Simone

Hi

I’m busy as usual. There is only a few chapters to do then proof reading and edits. I love writing and love the support I get from people that are doing edits etc. I really enjoy doing this, its a hobby thats taking over.

I have some prose to show you soon.

I’m really happy that my books getting good review.

Happy writing

Simone

image

Aviva building York with a rather spooky edge.

Hello Readers,

 

Here’s an updated copy of “Two Dead Boys”.

The corrections were done by a very good friend of mine.

There wasn’t was many as I thought there would be.

Enjoy

 

TWO DEAD BOYS

Preface

My name is Darryl and I am writing this account of the last few months while my memory is still fresh. I believe it happened despite everyone saying otherwise. I know it happened. I have the scar and death certificate to prove it.

 

You may think this a little fantastical and downright unbelievable but it is a one hundred per cent true.

 

I know.

 

I lived through it.

 

My doctors tell me it is my way of dealing with what happened, what they say happened, a nuclear station meltdown, but it is not. I escaped before the explosion. I had to. I had to tell others what happened but they think I am mad.

 

I will keep this detailed account safe and add to the paperwork I have and one day I will prove that I am in fact a walking dead man.

 

It is true. I have the proof.

 

 

 

Chapter One: The first weird thing

It all began during my senior year. We were two weeks in and everyone was already stressing about prom, graduation and exams.

 

Josh and I were raised together and always lived next door to each other. We were more like brothers than friends. We went to school together and our school was two towns over from the little collection of houses where we lived.

 

We lived on a small cluster of houses surrounded by farmland. Farmland our fathers worked on. Between the two families the houses held nearly twenty people including ailing relatives, parents, children, grandchildren and farm hands.

 

That day, the Tuesday, was the first day something strange happened.

 

On the farm there was an old storm/bomb shelter and the walls were nearly nine inch thick for protection. This is, word for word, what my dad told us when we got home from school.

 

“The dumb ass was acting all strange like it had been bitten and poison was slowly poisoning the body ,it was starting to go lame. Your Uncle Bill was trying to help, pretty much whilst we were trying to move the wretched donkey; it kicked out and caught Uncle Bill right in the eye, and propelled him through the storm shelter wall. By the time we got to him he was gone.” He relayed, fighting back the emotion, my father was the stoic type. “The doctor said he drowned from the blood in his lungs that had gotten there due to the damage caused by the fall.” He told us in horrific detail.

 

My father was always adamant that he would never hide anything from us no matter how horrific, much too both our mother’s dismay.

 

“What about the donkey?” I enquired.

 

“Put down,” he replied, his face stern and stoic. “It had been bitten; it was the best thing for him. He was old.” Dad explained and left the room, leaving Josh and I to digest what we had been told.

Not needed

The workmen were fixing the storm shelter but yet there was an odd quietness hanging over the farm.

 

It didn’t occur to us then how strange Uncle Bill’s death was. Not by a long shot.

 

Even the next two events didn’t cause us to think, our town was still smarting from the death too much to even think about it.

 

 

 

Chapter Two: Two Freaky Scenes

Luckily the next event didn’t involve a death but it was, shall we say, pretty damn strange.

 

At the school Josh and I went to there were a few, for want of a better word, handicapped students. Among them was a blind boy and a dumb girl. They were from a family that lived just down the dirt road from us and we often gave them a lift.

 

About a week after Uncle Bill’s death, Josh and I decided to do a few tricks on our skate boards but needed a referee. So we, I know it sounds strange, asked them to help us out. Julie, the dumb girl, agreed and Paul, her blind brother told us he would tell us what she was saying. They were twins which was always a source of amusement to us both.

 

Although she was mute Julie was incredibly pretty and the fact she didn’t speak was a plus for most of the guys at school, if you get what I’m saying.

 

Though she was pretty she was a thick as a post, she was also very, well, slow. She was in a special needs group but we didn’t hold that against her. She was a good laugh regardless of her shortcomings.

 

She watched as we did our tricks They sat in deep thought and then they started an odd type of conversation. After around ten minutes of showing off she told us, via Paul, that Josh was better than I. I was about to ask her why, though I knew it was because she fancied him, walked over to us. He was also dumb, a mute, never spoken once in his life.

Paul told me that I was good from what he heard, but Josh was just that little bit better.

 

As their father reached us he surprised us all by screaming “hooray,” at the top of his voice. It shocked us as we had always been told that he was physically incapable of speech.

 

My dad was close by and he heard it and it shocked him too. He came running over and asked us what had gone on.

 

When we explained the whole thing to him he just walked away and giggled as he went.

 

Paul and Julie left with their father. Between then and the explosion their father never said another word.

 

 

 

Chapter Three: Huhh?

The third event yet far from the strangest happened two days after we showed off for Paul and Julie. It also didn’t involve any horrific and twisted death, but oddly strange, none the less though it does involve an accidental death or two.

 

Josh and I had been driving around our semi-rural town, having a bit of fun and we ended up in our counties over grown cemetery near an old abandoned church and we started acting out battles we read about in history. Much like when we were younger.

 

For hours we played, pretending to shoot at each other, fighting and being typical teenagers. It was Saturday and unbeknown to us at the time the church was no longer abandoned. A new priest had moved in that week and he had, stupidly, called the police.

 

When the officer arrived we were shocked, we tried to explain, yet he completely ignored us. It was as though he couldn’t hear what we were saying.

 

Once we arrived at the police station, petrified of our parents finding out. We were processed and put into cells next to each other. We sat on the makeshift beds and we could hear the officer’s talking as the station wasn’t that big. One of the officers enquired, “Peter, why’d you arrest ‘em, they were only playin’. The priest is new in town. If they’d ‘ave known they’d ‘ave gone elsewere’s.” His drawl evident in every shortened word yet our arresting officer didn’t even register that he was being spoken to, he just continued writing up our arrest. “Peter, are you even listening to me?” he asked, his voice raised, nothing registered.

 

Another, more senior officer, one level under Chief of Police, joined the conversation and got the officers attention. “Peter, you can’t hear anything, can you?” Peter realised he was being spoken to yet his face showed he was completely puzzled.

 

The senior officer then told one of the others to take Peter to the hospital to get checked out and then released us with a stern warning to stay clear of the old church.

 

Driving home we knew we had a lucky escape and we were glad it wasn’t going on our permanent record with college so close.

 

Smiling we turned up the stereo and drove back to the farm. Driving the long, stretched out road was dull and boring and the day started to take its toll and I started to fall asleep, Josh was already asleep next to me, snoring loudly.

 

I jerked myself awake but it was too late. We were about to collide with a two foot wide fern tree. I had no chance of stopping the car as we were going too fast.

 

I saw the tree speeding towards me at over ninety miles an hour. The last thing I remember before a prolonged darkness was the tree in front of my face, so close that I could smell the sap and the muddy bark. Then there was just complete blackness and emptiness.

 

 

 

Chapter Four: Resurrection and realisation

The next thing I remember is waking up. I was in a coffin, I had been buried alive, that was the only answer, and it had to have been. I managed to bang my way out, pulling my way up and out. Once out I looked to my left and noticed a slightly banged up Josh next to me.

 

We looked at each other. A few cuts and marks but nothing too serious.

 

Then I saw the stiches visible under his dishevelled top and the look on his face told me I had them too. Looking closer I realised that it was in fact a Y incision, the type you see on the chests of the dead bodies on these crime dramas.

 

We had died in the accident! We were dead! Why the hell were we back? We weren’t zombies, we had too much control and awareness to be a zombie.

 

We headed to the farm. If anyone could help us figure it out, Dad could.

 

When the door was opened we were initially greeted by a continuous flow of women screaming and fainting. After they calmed down they hugged us and we sat down, we noticed a lack of appetite and I didn’t want to dwell on the reasons why.

 

We looked over at my dad who had looked as though he was expecting to see us and had been giggling the whole time whilst the others were screaming.

 

When the others left, the family, went back to bed and Dad began to explain what was humouring him.

 

“It’s all like that rhyme that you boys used to sing when you were kids.” He began, His face still showing an odd smirk. “Two dead boys got up to fight.” He reminded us. I recalled it instantly as did Josh. I looked at him and he looked at me and instantly realisation hit.

 

Everything that happened in the rhyme has happened with two exceptions, the first verse and the last line.

 

“That rhyme is about us! What happens if we complete it?” I ask, worried and concerned about the possible implications.

 

“I have no idea son,” Dad replied, his face contorted in worry, “The best thing is to complete it and see what happens.” He advises us. I had to say it made sense. He went to bed still chuckling to himself.

 

Josh and I thought about it and discussed it at length that night and saw no other way of ending this whole sorry affair.

 

Leaving the farm the following morning we grabbed two Civil War swords that grandpa had collected, and two of Uncle Bills pistols whilst Dad when to get Paul, the blind witness. All the while the women of our little family were hysterical and worried about the plan. They knew there was no way around it.

 

Chapter Five: First verse

We stood in the freshly ploughed cornfield. Swords glistening in the morning sun and pistols heavy. With one weapon in each hand we faced each other then flipped back to back.

 

Talking ten paces it dawned on me that I was about to hurt my best friend, my brother, not by blood but he was my brother none the less. How could I bring myself to do that?

 

I knew I had to. I knew it was necessary but it was still hard and painful to do.

 

As I finished my paces I turned around as fast as I could and emptied the old pistol into him as he did me.

 

There was no pain, no blood, there was just a gaping, puss riddled hole. It was as though we were still dead and our young attractive bodies were decomposing from under us.

 

Nothing happened. At first!!!!

 

Josh and I collected all the paperwork pertaining to our deaths and put them in a safe yet faraway place.

 

We started to go back to a normal life. Our bodies stopped decomposing and started going back to normal after we had our organs taken out of the bag they were in and put in their normal place.

 

Two months after, one of the girls at school started acting strange almost as though she was no longer alive. She was vacant, emotionless and then came the biting.

 

The ‘infection’ spread through our close network of towns like a wild forest fire. It infected men, women and children. They were all turned into brainless, emotionless creatures. They were adamant on making more.

 

At first we were worried that we had caused it but we couldn’t be sure. We talked about it. Our joint family had been turned and we were trapped in the nearby cattle pen. The barn seemed too obvious and had too many entrances in it.

 

The CDC wrote the area off as a biohazard and the governments did the unthinkable and sent in a small yield nuclear missile and ‘sanitised’ the area blaming it on a meltdown at the local power station.

 

 

 

Chapter Six: Escape

What they didn’t know was that I had escaped to a nearby infection free city.

 

My body was almost back to normal. The only thing that was missing was a beating heart.

 

I couldn’t let things be and started to tell anyone who would listen what happened and soon got myself committed to this hell hole mental asylum.

 

I am no longer living yet not yet dead. The doctors could not explain my lack of a pulse. Whenever they asked me I told them the story and they labelled me paranoid.

 

I was committed as they were sure I was completely insane, mental, mad, and barmy, they pretty much wrote me off.

 

None of the meds they have given me have had any effect on me whatsoever. None.

 

I know Josh was vaporised when the bomb hit. Everyone and everything was gone.

 

After a few months in this hell hole I began to notice signs of the infection in the hospital. It was just a few and I could be wrong and they could have been heavily medicated but if I’m right then we have a problem.

 

I don’t want to die but, if me living causes other people to die and not stay dead, what rights do I have to say my existence out weights theirs. If I spread the infection then I need to sort something out, but what? How can something no longer living actually die?

 

I have a lot to think about and this place is perfect I just wish they would leave me alone and stop telling me that I am crazy.

 

Only time will tell if I’m going to spread the infection until then I’ll hide here.

 

My blind witness, Paul, is still alive too. He was sent to a hospital two states over to get some respite and surgery before the explosion. Though he is now orphaned he is glad to be alive.

 

Before the ‘duel’ I asked my Dad what was wrong with Peter, the deaf police officer, the night Josh and I died. My Dad told me, “He had accidently discharged his weapon in the police cruiser and burst both of his ear drums making him completely deaf.

 

The rhyme had come true. I’m still living as is Paul, though for how long I don’t quite know.

 

* * * * * * * *

 

 

 

Chapter Seven: Dr’s analysis of Darryl Dorkings

 

 

Subject is paranoid and delusional.

 

His paranoia is based on his assumption that if anyone gets close to him they will contact some mystery illness that will turn them into zombie like cannibals.

 

His delusion is based around the idea that he is the walking dead, that he and his best friend came back from the dead to complete a child’s rhyme that is in fact a prophecy. He also claims his town and several near it were’ sanitized ‘by the government in order to prevent the spread of this mysterious infection.

 

Noteworthy Information

 

The subject has no pulse, needs no food or water and any/all drugs/poisons do not have any effect on him. He has no blood and feels no pain, heat or cold.

 

Experimental Outcomes

 

Cells show signs of infection with the same virus that killed his home town and resulted in their deaths. The virus is unique and holds the key to creating the world’s most perfect army and/or ideal weapon in biological warfare.

 

Subject is oblivious to the experiments we are running using the virus he is carrying, nor is aware that he is the subject of an intense biological study.

 

Subject will remain committed until such time as he and the other test subjects are no longer needed. At which point the area and those in it will be ‘sanitised’.

 

As for the link to the rhyme; yes it is there, I see it when he explains it in sessions. It puts a whole new spin on rhymes and poems and those that write them.

 

Personal note.

 

The subject is a walking petri dish and possibly slightly insane but I am drawn to him. I can’t explain it. I want to touch him so much it hurts and I don’t care if I get infected. I sometimes struggle to stop myself. I am not the only one. Several female staff and patients have voiced the same urge.

 

Dr Annetta Jones

 

BSc, Ma, PhD, Md

 

Psychiatrist, Molecular Biologist, Epidemiologist

 

Here’s a reminder of the version I used for the above tale. There are several different versions out there.

 

One fine day in the middle of the night,

Two dead boys got up to fight,

Back to back they faced each other,

Drew their swords and shot each other,

 

One was blind and the other couldn’t, see

So they chose a dummy for a referee.

A blind man went to see fair play,

A dumb man went to shout “hooray!”

 

A paralysed donkey passing by,

Kicked the blind man in the eye,

Knocked him through a nine inch wall,

Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,

 

A deaf policeman heard the noise,

And came to arrest the two dead boys,

If you don’t believe this story’s true,

Ask the blind man he saw it too!

 

Some of the fragmented sentences are on purpose.

 

Happy writing

 

Simone

 

Hi Readers,

Finally it’s done, completely done.

Please enjoy and let me know if you spot any errors I will be happy to change them.

Two Dead Boys

Preface

My name is Darryl and I am writing this account of the last few months while my memory is still fresh. I believe it happened despite everyone saying otherwise. I know it happened. I have the scar and death certificate to prove it.

You may think this a little fantastical and downright unbelievable but it is a one hundred per cent true.

I know.

I lived through it.

My doctors tell me it is my way of dealing with what happened, what they say happened, a nuclear station meltdown, but it is not. I escaped before the explosion. I had to. I had to tell others what happened but they think I am mad.

I will keep this detailed account safe and add to the paperwork I have and one day I will prove that I am in fact a walking dead man.

It is true. I have the proof.


Chapter One: The first weird thing

It all began during my senior year. We were two weeks in and everyone was already stressing about prom, graduation and exams.

Josh and I were raised together and always lived next door to each other. We were more like brothers than friends. We went to school together and our school was two towns over from the little collection of houses where we lived.

We lived on a small cluster of houses surrounded by farmland. Farmland our fathers worked on. Between the two families the houses held nearly twenty people including ailing relatives, parents, children, grandchildren and farm hands.

That day, the Tuesday, was the first day something strange happened.

On the farm there was an old storm/bomb shelter and the walls were nearly nine inch think for protection. This is, word for word, what my dad told us when we got home school.

“The donkey, dumb ass, was acting all strange like it had been bitten and the poison was slowly poisoning the body it was starting to go lame. Your Uncle Bill was trying to help, though he was soon pretty much blind as the ass knocked off his glasses. While we were trying to move the retched donkey it kicked out and caught your Uncle Bill right in the eye, and propelled him right through the storm shelter wall. By the time we got to him he was gone.” He relayed, fighting back the emotion, my father was the stoic type. “The doctor said he drowned from the blood in his lungs that had gotten there due to the damage caused by the fall.” He told us in horrific detail.

My father was always adamant that he would never hide anything from us no matter how horrific much to both our mother’s dismay.

“What about the donkey?” I enquired.

“Put down,” he replied, his face stern and stoic. “It had been bitten, it was the best thing for him. He was old.” Dad explained and left the room, leaving Josh and I to digest what we had be en told.

The workmen were hard at it fixing the storm shelter but yet there was an odd quietness hanging over the farm.

It didn’t occur to us then how strange Uncle Bill’s death was. Not by a long shot.

Even the next two events didn’t cause us to think, our town was still smarting from the death too much to even think about it.


Chapter Two: Two Freaky Scenes

Luckily the next event didn’t involve a death but it was, shall we say, pretty damn strange.

At the school Josh and I went to there was a few, for want of a better word, handicapped students. Among them was a blind boy and a dumb girl. They were from a family that lived just down the dirt road from us and we often gave them a lift.

One day, around a week after Uncle Bills death, Josh and I decided to do a few tricks on our skate boards but needed a referee. So we, I know it sounds strange, asked them to help us out. Julie, the dumb girl, agreed and Paul, her blind brother told us he would tell us what she was saying. They were twins which was always a source of amusement to us both.

Although she was mute Julie was incredibly pretty and the fact she didn’t speak was a plus for most of the guys at school, if you get what I’m saying.

Though she was pretty she was a thick as a post, she was also very, well, slow. She was in a special needs group but we didn’t hold that against her. She was a good laugh regardless of her shortcomings.

She watched as we did our tricks and her and her brother sat in deep though and an odd type of conversation. After around ten minutes of showing off she told us, via Paul, that Josh was better than I. As I was about to ask her why, though I knew it was because she fancied him, their father passed by. He was also dumb, a mute, never spoken once in his life.

Paul told me that I was good from what he heard but josh was just that little bit better.

As their father reached us he surprised us all by screaming “hooray,” at the top of his voice. It shocked us as we had always been told that he was physically incapable of speech.

My dad was close by and he heard it too, it shocked him too. He came running over and asked us what had gone on.

When we explained the whole thing to him he just walked away and giggled as he went.

Paul and Julie left with their father. Between then and the explosion their father never said another word.


Chapter Three: Huhh?

The third event yet for from the strangest happened two days after we showed off for Paul and Julie. It also didn’t involve any horrific and twisted death but oddly strange none the less though it does involve an accidental death or two.

Josh and I had been driving around our semi-rural town, having a bit of fun and we ended up in our counties over grown cemetery near an old abandoned church and we started acting out battles we read about in history. Much like when we were younger.

For hours we played, pretending to shoot at each other, fighting and being typical teenagers. It was Saturday and unbeknown to us at the time the church was no longer abandoned. A new priest had moved in that week and he had, stupidly, called the police.

When the officer arrived we were shocked, we tried to explain, yet he completely ignored us. It was as though he couldn’t hear what we were saying.

Once we arrived at the police station, petrified of our parents finding out. We were processed and put into cells next to each other. We sat on the makeshift beds and we could hear the officer’s talking as the station wasn’t that big. One of the officers enquired, “Peter, why’d you arrest ‘em, they were only playin’. The priest is new in town. If they’d ‘ave known they’d ‘ave gone elsewere’s.” His drawl evident in every shortened word yet our arresting officer didn’t even register that he was being spoken too, he just continued writing up our arrest. “Peter, are you even listening to me?” he asked, his voice raised, nothing registered.

Another, more senior officer, one level under Chief of Police, joined the conversation and got the officers attention. “Peter, you can’t hear anything, can you?” Peter realised he was being spoken to yet his face showed he was completely puzzled.

The senior officer then told one of the others to take Peter to the hospital to get checked out and then released us with a stern warning to stay clear of the old church.

Driving home we knew we had a lucky escape and we were glad it wasn’t going on our permanent record with college so close.

Smiling we turned up the stereo and drove back to the farm. Driving the long, stretched out road was dull and boring and the day started to take its toll and I started to fall asleep, Josh was already asleep next to me, snoring loudly.

I jerked myself awake but it was too late. We were about to collide with a two foot wide fern tree. I had no chance of stopping the car as we were going too fast.

I saw the tree speeding towards me at over ninety miles an hour. The last thing I remember before a prolonged darkness was the tree in front of my face, so close that I could smell the sap and the muddy bark. Then there was just complete blackness and emptiness.


Chapter Four: Resurrection and realisation

The next thing I remember is waking up. I was in a coffin, I had been buried alive, that was the only answer, and it had to have been. I managed to bang my way out, pulling my way up and out. Once out I looked to my left and noticed a slightly banged up Josh next to me.

We looked at each other. A few cuts and marks but nothing to serious.

Then I saw the stiches visible under his dishevelled top and the look on his face told me I had them to. Looking closer I realised that it was in fact a Y incision, the type you see on the chests of the dead bodies on these crime dramas.

We had died in the accident! We were dead! Why the hell were we back? We weren’t zombies, we had to much control and awareness to be a zombie.

We headed to the farm. If anyone could help us figure it out, Dad could.

When the door was opened we were initially greeted by a continuous flow of women screaming and fainting. After they calmed down they hugged us and we sat down and we noticed a lack of appetite and I didn’t want to dwell on the reasons why.

We looked over at my dad who had looked as though he was expecting to see us and had been giggling the whole time the others were screaming

When the others, the family, went back to bed Dad began to explain what was humouring him.

“It’s all like that rhyme that you boys used to sing when you were kids.” He began, His face still showing an odd smirk. “Two dead boys got up to fight.” He reminded us. I recalled it instantly as did Josh. I looked at him and he looked at me and instantly realisation hit.

Everything that happened in the rhyme has happened with two exceptions, the first verse and the last line.

“That rhyme is about us! What happens if we complete it?” I ask, worried and concerned about the possible implications.

“I have no idea son,” Dad replied, his face contorted in worry, “The best thing is to complete it and see what happens.” He advises us. I had to say it made sense. He went to bed still chuckling to himself.

We thought about it and discussed it at length that night and saw no other way of ending this whole sorry affair.

Leaving the farm the following morning we grabbed two Civil War swords that grandpa had collected and two of Uncle Bills pistols while Dad when to get Paul, the blind witness. All the while the women of our little family were hysterical and worried about the plan. They knew there was no way around it.

Chapter Five: First verse

We stood in the freshly ploughed cornfield. Swords glistening in the morning sun and pistols heavy. With one weapon in each hand we faced each other then flipped back to back.

Talking ten paces it dawned on me that I was about to hurt my best friend, my brother, not by blood but he was my brother none the less. How could I bring myself to do that?

I knew I had to. I knew it was necessary but it was still hard and painful to do.

As I finished my paces I turned around as fast as I could and emptied the old pistol into him as he did me.

There was no pain, no blood, there was just a gaping, puss riddled hole. It was as though we were still dead and out young attractive bodies were decomposing from under us.

Nothing happened. At first!!!!

Josh and I collected all the paperwork pertaining to out deaths and put them in a safe yet faraway place.

We started to go back to a normal life. Our bodies stopped decomposing and started going back to normal after we had our organs taking out of the bag they were in and put in their normal place.

Two months after one of the girls at school started acting strange almost as though she was no longer alive. She was vacant, emotionless and then came the biting.

The ‘infection’ spread through our close network of towns like a wild forest fire. It infected men, women and children. They were all turned into brainless, emotionless creatures. They were adamant on making more.

At first we were worried that we had caused it but we couldn’t be sure. We talked about it. Our joined family had been turned and we were trapped in the nearby cattle pen. The barn seemed to obvious and had to many entrance’s in it.

The CDC wrote the area off as a biohazard and the governments did the unthinkable and sent in a small yield nuclear missile and ‘sanitised’ the area blaming it on a meltdown at the local power station.


Chapter Six: Escape

What they didn’t know was that I escaped to a nearby infection free city.

My body was almost back to normal. The only thing that was missing was a beating heart.

I couldn’t let things be and started to tell anyone who would listen what happened and soon got myself committed to this hell hole mental asylum.

I am no longer living yet not yet dead. The doctors could not explain my lack of a pulse. Whenever they asked me I told them the story and they labelled me paranoid.

I was committed as they were sure I was completely insane, mental, mad, and barmy, they pretty much wrote me off.

None of the meds they have given me have had any effect on me what so ever. None

I know Josh was vaporised when the bomb hit. Everyone and everything was gone.

After a few months in this hell hole I began to notice signs of the infection in the hospital. It was just a few and could be wrong and they could have been heavily medicated but if I’m right then we have a problem.

I don’t want to die but if me living causes other people to die and not stay dead what right do I have to say my existence out weights theirs. If I spread the infection then I need to sort something out, but what? How can something no longer living actually die?

I have a lot to think about and this place is perfect I just wish they would leave me alone and stop telling me that I am crazy.

Only time will tell if I’m going to spread the infection until then I’ll hide here.

My blind witness, Paul, is still alive too. He was sent to a hospital two states over to get some rest bite and surgery before the explosion. Though he is now orphaned he is glad to be alive.

Before the ‘duel’ I asked my Dad what was wrong with Peter, the deaf police officer, the night Josh and I died. My Dad told me, “He had accidently discharged his weapon in the police cruiser and burst both of his ear drums making him completely deaf.

The rhyme had come true. I’m still living as it Paul, though for how long I don’t quite know.

* * * * * * * *


Chapter Seven: Dr’s analysis of Darryl Dorkings

Subject is paranoid and delusional.

His paranoia is based on his assumption that if anyone gets close to him they will contact some mystery illness that will turn them into zombie like cannibals.

His delusion is based around the idea that he is the walking dead, that him and his best friend came back from the dead to complete a child’s rhyme that is in fact a prophecy. He also claims his town and several near it were’ sanitized ‘ by the government in order to prevent the spread of this mysterious infection.

Noteworthy Information

The subject has no pulse, needs no food or water and any/all drugs/poisons do not have any effect on him. He has no blood and feels no pain, heat or cold.

Experimental Outcomes

Cells show signs of infection with the same virus that killed his home town and resulted in their deaths. The virus is unique and holds the key to creating the world’s most perfect army and/or and ideal weapon in biological warfare.

Subject is oblivious to the experiments we are running using the virus he is carrying nor is aware that he is the subject of an intense biological study.

Subject with remain committed until such time as he and the other test subjects are no longer needed. At which point the area and those in it will be ‘sanitised’.

As for the link to the rhyme ; yes it is there I see it when he explains it in sessions. It puts a whole new spin on rhymes and poems and those that write them.

Personal note.

The subject is a walking petri dish and possibly slightly insane but I am drawn to him. I can’t explain it. I want to touch him so much it hurts and I don’t care if I get infected. I sometimes struggle to stop myself. I am not the only one. Several female staff and patients have voiced the same urge.

Dr Annetta Jones

BSc, Ma, PhD, Md

Psychiatrist, Molecular Biologist, Epidemiologist

Here’s a reminder of the version I used for the above tale. There are severally different versions out there.

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight,
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other,

One was blind and the other couldn’t, see
So they chose a dummy for a referee.
A blind man went to see fair play,
A dumb man went to shout “hooray!”

A paralysed donkey passing by,
Kicked the blind man in the eye,
Knocked him through a nine inch wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,

A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to arrest the two dead boys,
If you don’t believe this story’s true,
Ask the blind man he saw it too!

Hope you liked it.

Happy writing

Simone

Hi,

Me and my better half have started doing some work on his novels and stories. I still have one to proof read, and some of it I’ve written but still need proof reading.

I’m also working on twisted book two. Going to work on corrections tomorrow for book one. I’m having a bad pain day today.

My babies due home in just under two hours. I can’t wait to hold him. I love him loads. Okay enough of that.

Planed a few short stories for him to do. I’m also teaching himself a few rules of writing to. I hope he will like what I’ve done. He like the idea of us co-writing as he hasn’t been doing it as long as I have so he is relying on my experience.

Hopefully it will all work out.

Happy writing and stay tuned

Simone

Hi,

I’ve been working hard on “Twisted Coven” and i now at page 123 of 178. Getting there, slowly.

Also toying with ideas for the cover but not quite sure yet. I want simple, eye catching and symbolic of the storyline inside.

Will have to rack my brain a little harder.

Anyone one want to step in with any idea’s.

“Two dead boys” is getting closer to completetion. Then it will need to be proof read.

Zombie Joe, think you will enjoy the ending for it. *HINT*

So, I’m off to be now as I have a busy day tomorrow and can not wait to see the visitors that are coming.

Stay tuned and again I am so sorry for my two week anbsence. I was really ill.

Simone