Bows And Arrows #3LineTales

three line tales, week 176: archers

Archery club sounded like something that belong in the Medieval times but it was my favourite sport. There was just something about the smooth wooden bow in my hand, the setting and pulling back of the arrow, the feathers against my cheek and releasing twank followed by the thunk of a hit target.

And now, all those hours of practise and competitions were paying off because I found the zombies too easy to hit but I also knew never let my guard down as there something much worse then them out there in the darkness.

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/06/13/three-line-tales-week-176/ with thanks).

Out Of Luck #3LineTales

three line tales, week 164: a couple on a road trip

Three hours later, the stolen car started having problems, the engine was making strange noises then it died and silence filled the air broken only by Amy’s and Chad’s rushed breathing.

They sort each others hands, clutching fingers tightly as they looked out of the window and saw coming through the dirty snow a number of shambling moving dark figures.

Desperately, they had tried to get away, to survive the threatening plague but luck had run out on them, there was nowhere left to go, so they stayed in the car, holding hands and waiting for the end.

 

(Inspiration by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/03/21/three-line-tales-week-164/ with thanks).

Made It! #1linerWeds

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You know you’ve made it when you can wake up and don’t hear the zombies breaking your door down.

(Inspired from; https://lindaghill.com/2018/02/07/one-liner-wednesday-you-know-youve-made-it/ with thanks).

Spur #writephoto

It was a strange thing to find in a charity shop and I don’t know why I was drawn to it. The spur was rusty but the spiky wheel still spun and it could still be placed onto the back of a boot. I didn’t want it for that though. I brought it, along with the other items I’d picked up then I took it home.

There was no where to place the spur in any room of my house, so I settled for putting it in the cacti bowl that lived in the kitchen. Then I just forgot about it which is just something everyone does.

I don’t know how long had passed but one night I had this weird dream where I was walking through the desert and I came to this abandoned wooden mining town. I walked through the silent buildings and saw a spur, just like the one I’d brought, laying on the sandy ground. I think I tried to pick it up but the dream ended.

After breakfast that morning, I looked for the spur in the cacti bowl. It wasn’t there. Shrugging and thinking one of my housemates had moved it, I went to university for the day and once again forgot all about it.

 

I had another dream days later and I remember this one more because I don’t normally recall my dreams that well. Once again, I was in the desert and walking through that abandoned silent town. I saw the spur and this time I picked it up. I spun the spiky wheel and sliced my finger.

A drop of blood hit the sand at my feet and sunk into the grains. I frowned and began to move on but the ground trembled and a zombie hand shot out and grabbed my boot. I screamed, yelled and tried to kick away. The hand hung on. Panic rose within me, I kicked hard but that caused the hand to pull more out of the sand and I realised the hand wasn’t trying to drag me down but it get itself up!

Without thinking, I jabbed the spur into the rotting hand. The fingers seemed to loosen. I jabbed harder, sticking the spur in like a knife and leaving it there. I kicked with my other foot and punched with my hands until the zombie hand let me go. I stumbled away then finding my feet fled the ghost town.

I awoke in a pool of sweat and shivering. My bed was a mess and my breathing was super loud. I got up and went to the window. It was a cold and wet autumn day but I opened the window and let the strong wind blast the reminds of the dream away.

I had a shower, got dressed and was grateful that I didn’t have any uni classes to attend today. The house was quiet, so I didn’t know who was in. There were dishes in the sink though and the living room was a mess. I tidied up, hoping it would take my mind off everything. Also, I had to find that spur!

When it didn’t turn up, I stuck a note on the fridge and asked my housemates to please return the spur to me. I went to my room and tried to study but my mind was far from my essay and research reading. Instead, I did some internet searching into spurs and abandoned towns in the desert. I didn’t find many answers to the questions I didn’t even know I had.

I went out in the afternoon to the shops and to the town’s library which was nothing compared to the uni’s library but at least I finally got a clear head to study! When I got back that evening, I asked my three housemates about the spur but none of them had seen it.

‘Like a cowboy boot spur?’ Josh asked.

I nodded.

They were all sat in the living room, the TV on an American comedy show and a menu for a local Chinese on the coffee table.

‘Why do you have one of them, Rachel?’ Holly cut in.

‘ It seemed interesting….’ I replied.

‘We’re going to order, soon,’ Kaden switching out, you want anything?’

‘Sure,’ I sighed and picked the menu up.

 

That night the dream came again. This time though I was more prepared and though the zombie scared me, I let him raise from the sand. He was dressed in the reminds of  brown leather pants and a jacket. Holding down my fear, I held the spur out to him. With a loud groan he took it from my stretched out hand then turned away from me.

My eyes flicked open. My dark student bedroom morphing before me. I fumbled for the lamp and got blinded by the light. I rubbed my face and hobbled to the bathroom. Afterwards, I padded back and got into bed again. The near silence of the house hurt my ears and I just wanted to go to sleep again.

I never saw the spur again.

 

(Inspired from; https://scvincent.com/2017/10/19/thursday-photo-prompt-spur-writephoto/ with thanks).

Zombie Office

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Nothing ever got done in the zombie office. By the time most of the workers got in it was mid-day and when the last of them left it was almost nighttime. The air smelt like blood, over-cooked meat and rot which wasn’t something a non-zombie could stomach for long. Also, everything felt sticky and had strange dried prints on it from things no one wanted to knew about.

Watching the zombies from his large office window, the new manager called the chief executive up and said, ‘why have we hired zombies? They hardly get any work done and their office is a mess! Wouldn’t normal people be better?’

The chief executive breathed heavily down the phone and replied, ‘I understand but if we could’ve hired “normal” people we would’ve done.’

‘What do you mean?’ the new manager asked.

‘Well….We’re a bit short on humans at the moment,’ the chief executive explained.

‘I see……’ the manager trailed.

‘Don’t worry about it. The zombies will get their tasks done soon enough. If you need something rushed get a witch or warlock in office WW twenty-eight to do it,’ the chief executive added then put the phone down.

The new manager signed and turned away from that window to another. This one looked out of the city. He could see a dark grey gloomy sky and lines of black smoke raising upwards. Most of the buildings were burnt and or abandoned, those that were still occupied barely hung on to their grey and brown colours.

The Supernatural Take Over really wasn’t going to plan.

Hunger

candy, chocolate, delicious

Brian was so hungry, he could eat anything. Clutching the steering wheel, he drove down the dark motorway whilst licking his lips. At the moment, he was stuck out here with just the shadows of the trees and the glow of a farm house light in the distance. Soon though, he knew there’d be a rest stop and he could get something to eat.

He tapped the steering wheel and tried to listen to the soft music coming from the radio to distracted himself. His mind popped with images of beef burgers, fries, huge slabs of cooked meats and piles of crisp vegetables. Brian’s stomach groaned and he felt that if he didn’t eat soon he’d go mad.

His headlights flashed over a sign and he breathed a sigh of relief. There was a service stop a few miles away.

‘Soon, soon, soon,’ he told himself.

He sped up, taking the car over the speed limit, but out here in the middle of nowhere, close to midnight no one would see. He clutched the wheel tighter, so his knuckles turned white and even though his eyes were fixed on the road, he was no longer seeing clearly. He had to eat. He could feel the urge consuming him and riding over everything else.

The turn off came up and he yanked the car over violently. The wheels squealed then settled as he slowed down. Brian went through the parking lot and pulled up close by the door. He got out, locked the car and hurried inside. Warm lights and the pleasant smell of food filled the air.

He went to the first food place and got a burger, fries and a coke. Sitting down, he tried to contain the drool that was filling his mouth, but as he unwrapped the burger and bite into it, he felt wetness on his face. Brian moaned with pleasure into the bread and meat. He swallowed then finished the thing in two bites.

Not even bothering to wipe his mouth or fingers, he wolfed down the fries. They were gone in a few moments and he was left with the taste of salt and potato on his tongue. He picked up his drink, took off the lid and gulped that down like a man starved of water in a desert.

Brian sat back and wiped his hands and face. He felt better and the urge was slowly fading. He shut his eyes and for a few moments just sat there, patting his stomach. Then the hungry rose again, demanding more meat.

He got up, abandoning his tray and walked quickly to another fast food place. There he ordered a chicken burger, more fries, sides and a large coke. Sitting down again, he began eating. The urge was so great, it was the only thing he could think of. The burger tasted good, even better then the first and the fries were crispy, just how he liked them. He finished eating and drowned his mouth in the fizzy drink.

He burped loudly and threw his head back. The hungry began to fade again. He rested, but it only lasted for a few minutes. Getting up, he stumbled into the small shop and picked up random packets of sweets and snacks. He went to the till and dumped it all on. He swayed drunkenly and waved off the shop assistant’s questions. He paid with his card, grabbed as much as he could carry and went back to his table.

There he stuffed himself full of sweets, chocolate and savory snacks. It all felt so good and couldn’t get enough of it. He had to have more!

He looked up, deciding were to go next and saw that people were staring at him. All the employees of the service building and a handful of other late night travelers were watching him closely. He noticed some of them whispering to each other then turning away as they saw him watching them.

For a few moments, Brian came back to himself, what’s happening here? What am I doing? Then the hungry crashed in again. He hurried up and into the shop once more. This time not even caring what he eat, he tore items off the shelves and began opening things.

‘Wait! You can’t do that! Stop! You need to pay!’

Voices were shouting all around him, but he ignored them and carried on. His mouth was full of so much and he wanted to cramp everything in at once.

‘He’s gone mad! Someone phone the police!’

Hands grabbed him and Brian swung to hit them away. A fist crunched into his nose and he tasted blood. He spit out the mouthful of mixed food he had and reached for the hand that had hit him. Wrapping his hands around that strong arm, he brought the skin to his mouth and bit down.

Screams filled his ears, blocking everything else out, but all Brian could sense was the taste of flesh and blood in his mouth. It felt so good and finally he was satisfied.

Cold Call

Diesel’s phone ringing cut through the silence he had so carefully created. Gritting his teeth, he dug around in his army jacket searching amongst everything else in his pockets for the device. Quickly, his fingers closed around his phone and pulling it out, he stole a look over the top of the burnt out car he was hiding behind.

He answered the call of the unrecognised number, whilst clutching his large gun tighter, ‘Hello?’ he hissed into the phone.

‘Hello, I’m looking for Mr. Holtman?’ a male voice with a heavy Asian accent called over a crackling line.

‘Speaking,’ Diesel replied as his eyes rolled across the semi-deserted cityscape before him.

‘I’m Nathanial, calling from Interlink Surveys and you have been selected to take part in our most recent survey. It’ll take only two minutes of your time and you’ll be automatically entered into our prize draw, where you could win a new car or a holiday or shopping vouchers.’

‘What?’ Diesel spit into the phone.

‘Sir, I shall only take a few minutes of your time and your opinions matter dearly to us,’ the voice of Nathanial pressed into his ear.

‘I’m in the middle of something right now,’ he answered and shifted the gun slightly in his lap. Still casting his eyes around, Diesel thought he spotted a movement to the left, beside an abandoned store. Fixing his gaze there, he balanced the front of the gun on the side of the car’s bonnet and keep the phone to his ear with his shoulder, ‘I really can’t talk right now,’ he emphasised.

‘It’ll only take a few minutes, sir, please. And you’ll be entered free into the prize draw,’ the desperate voice stung his ear.

‘I really can’t,’ Diesel explained and hung up.

Sucking in a deep breath, he concentrated again and saw a number of growing shadows coming up along the building wall. Growling, he patted his jacket and finding his grenades, brought them out and set them at his feet. A low moaning sound brushed his ears and Diesel froze. They were coming.

His ring tone blasted out, causing him to jump and scramble for the phone.

‘Hello?’

‘Sorry, we seemed to have got disconnected. Now Sir, can I confirm that you are over the age of twenty-five and own your home? Nathanial’s cheery voice came through the speaker.

‘Fuck. Don’t you know what’s happening in this country right now?’ Diesel yelled.

‘Sorry, I misheard that,’

‘Yes, I am and do. Now get off the line!’ Diesel screamed and tossed the phone away.

A loud clattering echoed as the phone bounced along the road before hitting a blown out tire.

Twisting his head back, he saw a zombie looming over the car at him. Letting out a pent up scream, he squeezed the trigger of the gun and shot off half the zombie’s face. Blood and flesh exploded, raining down on them both and the remains of the car.

Diesel shuffled backwards, backhanding some stringy red muscle strands on his face and took aim again as the creature paused to assess itself. The next bullet lodged into its skull and the zombie fell backwards, revealing many more of its fellows stumbling forward.

Swearing, Diesel scooped up two grenades and unpinning them, threw the bombs into the coming enemies. Grapping the others, he legged it and ran back to his base.