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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
July 23, 2012
The Siren by =QuiEstInLiteris An unnerving yet intriguing start to a science fiction story.
Featured by BeccaJS
Literature Text
There was a dead body on Sandie's back porch, and it was trying to get in.
She wrung the coffee out of the front of her shirt, made damn sure that all of her doors and windows were locked, and called Mike.
"Mike."
"Yeah? Sandie? That you?"
"You don't know anything about this, do you?"
"About what?"
"The zombie."
"Come again?"
"Mike, there's a zombie on my back porch. It's leaving smears on the glass door. Is it yours?"
"I... Could you repeat that?"
"Zombie, Mike. It's a dead body in a puddle of nasty, and it's leaving more nasty on my door. God, I can even smell it. This is one thorough job, man."
She edged away from the door, keeping an eye on the intruder beyond the glass. It was bloated and purple with decay, green and black fungus speckling its face. There was fluid coming out of its mouth and dripping from its nose. It had no eyes, and all indication of sex or age had rotted away.
"Robotic, maybe? One of its legs is about to fall off. You didn't sic one of your Cyber Derby friends on me, did you?"
There was a long moment of silence on the other end, then the sound of a slamming door and an engine revving.
"I don't know anything about it. But hey, are you going to be at home for a while? Can I come see it?"
"I sure as hell am not going out the back door. If it smells that bad inside... I'll put another pot of coffee on for you, okay? Come through the garage when you get here. Bring a shotgun or something just in case."
Sandie hung up and stuck her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, moving into the kitchen to refresh her cup. She went upstairs to change shirts, threw the stained one into the laundry, and washed her hands in the bathroom. The thumping and scratching from the back door was audible throughout the house, and it did not stop. She wondered whether she should be scared, but it all felt too much like a low-budget horror flick to be real.
A careful peek out of the hall revealed that the unwelcome guest was beginning to flag. The thumps were a bit further apart than they had been at first. Sandie cupped her hand over her nose and approached the door, with the reasoning that if it was going to get in, it would have gotten in already. The stink was nauseating.
"So," she said around her hand. "Are you here for my brains or what?"
The body clawed at the glass.
"You want a cup of coffee? Kudos on the makeup job, by the way, or whatever that is. It looks pro. Is that pig blood or something? You know you're going to be scrubbing my porch down later, right?"
The body hummed. It smacked a defleshed hand against the door, and the view distorted as the glass rippled with powerful bass vibrations.
Sandie fell back on her ass with a yelp, ruining another shirt with coffee.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded as the vibrations slowed and died. She picked herself up and crouched in front of the glass, staring into the creature's empty eye sockets. She received the unnerving impression that it was staring back. A dribble of black spilled from its mouth and splattered on the cement outside. There was half a grasshopper in it.
"Oh," Sandie said. "You're real, aren't you? Oh, God, you're real." That panic started to well up, along with the bagel she had eaten for breakfast. "Oh, God, oh my God."
She reached back and pulled the phone from her pocket, hit redial as fast as she could. Mike's phone began to ring. The body outside stared through the glass, its swollen tongue hanging down to its chin. It slumped sideways, pressing its shoulder against the glass.
Sandie gasped into the receiver, and there was a click.
"Sandie? You okay?"
"Right. No. Cops. Hurry."
"Wh-?"
She hung up and punched in 9-1-1.
The body hummed. It resonated, a clear, bell-like tone. Dust sifted down from the ceiling. The glass warped and undulated like a sheet of water, then burst inward with a pop. Sparkling fragments rained down amid a shockwave of sound.
The phone beeped, sparked and died, and Sandie was on her knees, feeling oddly mellow in the moments before she passed out.
She wrung the coffee out of the front of her shirt, made damn sure that all of her doors and windows were locked, and called Mike.
"Mike."
"Yeah? Sandie? That you?"
"You don't know anything about this, do you?"
"About what?"
"The zombie."
"Come again?"
"Mike, there's a zombie on my back porch. It's leaving smears on the glass door. Is it yours?"
"I... Could you repeat that?"
"Zombie, Mike. It's a dead body in a puddle of nasty, and it's leaving more nasty on my door. God, I can even smell it. This is one thorough job, man."
She edged away from the door, keeping an eye on the intruder beyond the glass. It was bloated and purple with decay, green and black fungus speckling its face. There was fluid coming out of its mouth and dripping from its nose. It had no eyes, and all indication of sex or age had rotted away.
"Robotic, maybe? One of its legs is about to fall off. You didn't sic one of your Cyber Derby friends on me, did you?"
There was a long moment of silence on the other end, then the sound of a slamming door and an engine revving.
"I don't know anything about it. But hey, are you going to be at home for a while? Can I come see it?"
"I sure as hell am not going out the back door. If it smells that bad inside... I'll put another pot of coffee on for you, okay? Come through the garage when you get here. Bring a shotgun or something just in case."
Sandie hung up and stuck her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, moving into the kitchen to refresh her cup. She went upstairs to change shirts, threw the stained one into the laundry, and washed her hands in the bathroom. The thumping and scratching from the back door was audible throughout the house, and it did not stop. She wondered whether she should be scared, but it all felt too much like a low-budget horror flick to be real.
A careful peek out of the hall revealed that the unwelcome guest was beginning to flag. The thumps were a bit further apart than they had been at first. Sandie cupped her hand over her nose and approached the door, with the reasoning that if it was going to get in, it would have gotten in already. The stink was nauseating.
"So," she said around her hand. "Are you here for my brains or what?"
The body clawed at the glass.
"You want a cup of coffee? Kudos on the makeup job, by the way, or whatever that is. It looks pro. Is that pig blood or something? You know you're going to be scrubbing my porch down later, right?"
The body hummed. It smacked a defleshed hand against the door, and the view distorted as the glass rippled with powerful bass vibrations.
Sandie fell back on her ass with a yelp, ruining another shirt with coffee.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded as the vibrations slowed and died. She picked herself up and crouched in front of the glass, staring into the creature's empty eye sockets. She received the unnerving impression that it was staring back. A dribble of black spilled from its mouth and splattered on the cement outside. There was half a grasshopper in it.
"Oh," Sandie said. "You're real, aren't you? Oh, God, you're real." That panic started to well up, along with the bagel she had eaten for breakfast. "Oh, God, oh my God."
She reached back and pulled the phone from her pocket, hit redial as fast as she could. Mike's phone began to ring. The body outside stared through the glass, its swollen tongue hanging down to its chin. It slumped sideways, pressing its shoulder against the glass.
Sandie gasped into the receiver, and there was a click.
"Sandie? You okay?"
"Right. No. Cops. Hurry."
"Wh-?"
She hung up and punched in 9-1-1.
The body hummed. It resonated, a clear, bell-like tone. Dust sifted down from the ceiling. The glass warped and undulated like a sheet of water, then burst inward with a pop. Sparkling fragments rained down amid a shockwave of sound.
The phone beeped, sparked and died, and Sandie was on her knees, feeling oddly mellow in the moments before she passed out.
Literature
Ashen Sky-Ch.1 Revised
"I always knew the zombie apocalypse would start in Chicago. I just never thought the zombies would be trying to buy life insurance." Matt Owens chuckled as he glanced over his shoulder to his cubicle-mate.
Tess Abernathy rolled her large blue eyes at him and sighed. "As much as I absolutely adore my job in data-entry here," she began, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I love your amazing ability to come up with the stupidest ideas ever even more."
"Aw, c'mon, Tess!" said Matt, laughing. "Seriously, though. I had to look this guy up 'cause his address was wrong, and the database says he died at an old address about a month ago, but he's ali
Literature
Vindication
The good news was, he was telling the truth; Rusty really wasn't the werewolf. The bad news was, the silver bullet still killed him instantly.
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Forever Loyal
He saw her coming out of the deli, she smelled like blood-sick and old wounds hiding under her last pair of clothes that didn't have tears in them. He went to her and introduced himself. She gave him a sausage. It was love.
He followed her for the rest of the day, ears pricked forward as he listened to her talk. It was funny how that made her happy. She would say "Piston, sit." And he would sit, stump where his tail should be wagging as she pet him with pale fingers. When she did that, he knew she wasn't blood-sick, she was food for others who were and they nipped at her like he sometimes nipped at the heels of children when they tried to st
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Actually, it's not a zombie story. But you don't get to find out what sort of story it is for quite a while.
I'm going to TRY to do my own little NaNo during December, since a change in the work situation this coming Spring will most likely take away ALL of my chance to generate new material - I'd rather have something ready to go for editing.
Mature content, do you think? I tried not to be too graphic, but decomposition is a messy business. Anyway, if you think it needs a tag, do let me know.
Part 1: YOU ARE HERE
Part 2: [link]
Part 3: [link]
Part 4: [link]
Part 5: [link]
Part 6: [link]
Part 7: [link]
Part 8: [link]
Part 9: [link]
Part 10: [link]
Part 11: [link]
EDIT:
DD? Thanks, guys! This makes my day!
I'm going to TRY to do my own little NaNo during December, since a change in the work situation this coming Spring will most likely take away ALL of my chance to generate new material - I'd rather have something ready to go for editing.
Mature content, do you think? I tried not to be too graphic, but decomposition is a messy business. Anyway, if you think it needs a tag, do let me know.
Part 1: YOU ARE HERE
Part 2: [link]
Part 3: [link]
Part 4: [link]
Part 5: [link]
Part 6: [link]
Part 7: [link]
Part 8: [link]
Part 9: [link]
Part 10: [link]
Part 11: [link]
EDIT:
DD? Thanks, guys! This makes my day!
© 2011 - 2024 QuiEstInLiteris
Comments331
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Overall
Vision
Originality
Technique
Impact
First I would like to compliment you on your prose writing (Technique *****). The scene depicted here had a good tempo and with 724 words I think you got the most bang for your buck. Sure, you could have put in a bunch of flowery descriptions of the scenery but it would not have really done much for your overall story so I applaud your emphasis on plot/dialogue in this scene. There was not a typo to be found and everything seemed to transition well.
Zombies but not really? (Originality ****) Eyah, that's cool. It seemed original enough not to come across as fan-fiction, but I think that if you had chosen a more unique character and/or location then it would have had a much more original overall feel to it.
The typical suburban feel clashed awkwardly with mentions of things like the "Cyber Derby" (Vision ****) so I think you may need to either tone it down on the worldbuilding or place this scene after another one that would properly acclimate the reader to whatever kind of world this story takes place in. Also, the character's cavalier attitude toward the zombie in the beginning was kind of confusing at first (in a bad way) so I also think that a prior scene would do some good as far as getting the reader used to how this world works. Kudos for not getting into a bunch of gore like a lot of other zombie stories.
The ultimate litmus test for the impact of a first chapter is whether or not a new reader is enticed to read onward. In order to succeed as a writer in the long run you must strive to not only write well, but also to hook new readers in a way that keeps them coming back for more as if they are addicted to your story and its corresponding world. I found this story to be well executed but at the end of reading it I did not really have any strong desire to keep reading subsequent chapters (Impact **). However, I do think that your story has a lot of potential and if you ever choose to rewrite this or add another opening scene set prior to this one then I would be happy to give it another look <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="391" title=" (Smile)"/>