So I just started writing again (I said I would write more over the break, but it's all been so fun-filled, I didn't get around to writing until now...) But in the past hour I managed to squeeze out 700 words to add onto my intro. I'm going to call this Chapter One of my story, Aeternus Mortuus. The story title is likely to change, but this is what I called the original story I wrote two years ago.

Chapter 1

A loud explosion pierces the airwaves, and a bright light appears overhead. A man looks down at the cell phone he is carrying as it shocks him, and he lets the device fly from his hand. It seems as though a thousand rockets are taking off from the building he’s standing by. There’s another explosion, only this time it’s not accompanied by bright light. This blast sends a strange, gelatinous substance soaring in all directions. The man falls to the ground, unmoving. The stillness after the momentary commotion is unnerving. Unexpectedly, the man twitches. He puts his hands flat against the ground and pushes up. I catch sight of his face. It’s only been mere seconds since the explosions, but somehow he’s different. His face is riddled with spots both pale and a charred black. The man’s nose is hanging by a thin piece of cartilage leaving an abysmal hole in the center of his face. He manages to push himself up and gets his feet underneath the rest of his body. The ghastly corpse staggers towards me with arms outstretched. I try to get to my feet and run, but my body doesn’t want to move. Another explosion sounds as a brick flies through the air, knocking the man’s head clean off his shoulders. The body crumples to the ground and its head rolls towards me, coming to a stop inches from my face. I see a bloody blue-tooth earpiece sparking on the side of the head. Another blindingly bright light arrives. Once again, an eerie silence fills the air.

I jerked awake panting and sticky with sweat. Even conscious, I could feel the oppressive darkness closing in on me. Out of habit, I reached up to turn on the bedside lamp that wasn’t there. Even if there had been a light in the room, it wouldn’t have worked. Nothing had worked after that day. I guess I was just hoping for some good luck for a change. I got out of bed and shuffled over to swipe the curtains open and step out to the balcony. I could see the sun’s rays peaking over the hills. So long as I kept my gaze up and out, the sight was truly beautiful. In fact, it reminded me of the paintings my parents had hanging up when I was a kid. Memories washed over me: warm summer nights filled with cards, swimming, and bonfires, cold winter days spent resting in front of the old wood stove…

However, the nostalgia was short-lived as the wind picked up, carrying with it a stench that reminded me of the fish gutting hut in Michigan where we used to vacation when I was a kid. I stole a quick glance down and managed to spot the outlines of several bodies in the early morning light. Before I looked away, a feral cat jumped amidst the corpses and several crows shot towards the sky, cawing. Judging by the sounds coming from below, the cat nabbed itself a meal.

That’s something that I couldn’t understand. It doesn’t take much to become infected; I’ve seen people become infected from scratches and bites, but I’ve also seen them get the disease from falling and scraping knees or arms. I’ve also seen people who’ve been scratched and weren’t noticeably affected. Then there are those who become infected and die, remaining still until something, or I suppose even someone, finds the feast.


I’m no scientist, but everyone’s seen a zombie movie. I always assumed that there was some sort of genetic immunity to the disease. It’s my opinion that there are some people who are completely immune to it, some that are partially immune to it (those which die but don’t turn), and the rest have no immunity. When the people with no immunity die, they turn into a stereotypical zombie. Another thing that I can’t understand is the interaction between the infection and non-human life. I’ve been traveling for weeks since the outbreak and have yet to see an infected animal. I know that they can carry the disease, as I once saw a feral dog attack and turn a fellow survivor. For some reason, it seems that humans are the only life forms immediately affected by the disease.

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it and walked back inside, closing the sliding doors behind me. Last night I took refuge in what was apparently a bed and breakfast. I saw a bible had been thrown to the ground in haste as the previous occupants rushed away. I closed my eyes.


I’m walking down the street, just having been released from the hospital. I’m not infected, thank God, but there are many who are. For days the government has been trying to round up and burn as many of the infected as possible, but there are always those trying to protect former loved ones. I see a man standing on the edge of a fountain shouting insanity.
“Our lord and savior is coming, the day of reckoning is at hand!”
A small crowd of people are watching the man, including a few military personal. They are sizing the preacher up, deciding if he could be a threat.
“You have sinned, and this…” he motions as an infected is shoved forward out of the crowd.
The military men take aim, but don’t fire.
“This is our salvation!” The preacher steps down, pulls out a knife, and cuts the binds on the infected. The infected immediately jumps on the religious fanatic as he embraces the monster. The two men with guns open fire and both the zealot and the infected drop to the ground. I help drag the bodies to a burning station to be disposed of.

A mere second later I opened my eyes again and tried to forget, but forgetting is impossible. I have seen so much that will all surely be with me till the end.


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Again, I wrote all of this, with the exception of the first italicized passage, in an hour, so the quality is probably not the best. I just want to get a bit of feedback before I go to far. I'm kind of going for a stream of consciousness kind of narrative, with random flashbacks/dreams thrown in (the italicized bits).

Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!

Up!
Let me know what you guys think!

I feel like I've changed the writing style a bit between those two parts, and I'm not sure if I like the way the rest of it is written. I want to hear some feedbacks if I need to try to go back to how the intro was.

It all seems good. When I 1st read it, I thought you were making a war story. But as a story goes on...it can be perceived however the person reading it likes. It was a bit of a twist when it turned into a zombie book. I like the idea of the preacher going nuts because you never see that. You know in your mind that if the world did go to shit that stuff like that would happen but it seems like books or movies leave out parts like that and just seem to focus on the group. I dont really like to give negatives for fixing or adding things to a story because it may not be what the author was wanting or planning on doing and I hope by me giving you a negative it doesnt change your story on how you think you might want it to go.
*On this part at the end of your paragraph: "Once again, an eerie silence fills the air."
( Seems after fills the air you could put something that makes you notice the world your awakening to...maybe the smell of the clothes he had slept in that hadnt been washed in days)...something that would make you know the dream wasnt real after you smelled or saw that part blending into the dream itself. I know it seems like a crazy idea but I know I have had crazy dreams where things made sense and then didnt and I knew the dream was completely messed up in my mind but I was forced to go with it.

Would be cool to see the story from a side thats not just a group but a couple or even two sisters. ( Zombie stories always seem like mens perspective )

Great Job!
If you have anything you would like to talk bout to me....Please feel free to pm. Always here to help and I will always voice my opinion.
Next time you send me a pm with wanting me to read your story...Just send me the story thru pm.

yep yep all good keep the story comin

I'm gonna go ahead and bump this, haven't got anything to add yet =/

Bumpz

Might write some more soon
maybe =/

As always, let me know what you think. This chapter took me twice as long as the last one, for some reason.
And also, sorry about the formatting. It looks terrible on here =/

Chapter Two

I’ve been alone since the day I saw that man of God shot. I don’t remember much of my hospital stay, but the staff said I had a few visits from family members. I headed straight to my parent’s house, but it was empty. Every home that once belonged to someone I had known was cleared out, the signs of hurried departure constant in each case. The majority of the city’s residents had already vacated, but I decided to stay. They were simply birds fleeing south, hoping to escape winter’s cold clutch. I realized that the current predicament wasn’t comparable to an average winter. This was more like an ice age. Early on, I liked to compare myself to a bear, in the same mindset with which I compared the refugees to birds. I was planning to settle down, planning to hibernate and survive the coming, unending cold. As it turns out, I wasn’t as determined as I had thought. Soon, I too would be a bird.

There was a sound downstairs: the old oak door was slowly creaked open. I looked around and grabbed the crowbar I had been carrying around for some time. Whatever it was that had wandered into the house was pushing open ever door it walked past, presumably searching for a fresh meal. I knew it wouldn’t find anything; I made sure to clear the small building out earlier yesterday. The door to the stairwell was pulled open and suddenly there was a loud crash followed by the sound of a hundred marbles rolling and bouncing down the steps. I had rigged a bowl of marbles to fall from the top of the stairs if the door below were opened. If something got into the house while I was sleeping, the loud noise would wake me and the little balls would hopefully make it harder for an unthinking body to climb the steps. There were several thuds as the intruder slipped and fell back to the bottom. I allowed myself a slight grin, but it had soon disappeared when the thing uttered a very human-like groan. I grabbed my pistol just in case my suspicions proved true.

“Hey Chris! Was that you?” a voice shouted from somewhere near the front door.
“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks for asking,” the man at the bottom of the steps replied. “You should get over here, there’s something upstairs. It knocked over a jar of marbles or something.”
“I’m on my way.” I heard heavy boots walking from the front door towards the spot where Chris was lying. The man chuckled, “You were actually taken down by some balls of glass?”
“You should’ve seen it man, they attacked me, all at once. Like vicious attack dogs they were. I tell you what, I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Oh really now? Come on, get up. Let’s go see what caused this near-deadly attack.”

I heard one of the men grunt as Chris got to his feet. As they started up the steps, I called out, “Stop. Don’t come up here. I mean it, I’m armed.” The two men stopped climbing the stairs. “What are you looking for, why did you come here?” I asked.
The man, not Chris, responded, “We’re looking for supplies, not trouble.”
“Good, then leave. There’s nothing here that isn’t already claimed.” I had had my run-ins with local scavengers. They can be as bad as the dead sometimes, killing and eating whatever moves.

“Are you alone up there?” the other man again, Chris is letting him do all the talking it seems.
I hesitated a moment, but found no reason to lie. “Yes, I am. But as I said, I’m armed and have had extensive training in combat scenarios just like these.” That last part was a lie; I play, or rather used to play, a lot of video games.
“How the hell do you prepare for scenarios like,” he cuts off. “Never mind, that’s not the point. We aren’t who you think we are.”
“Who do I think you are?” I question him.
“I don’t know, scavengers? We’re regular survivors just like you.”
I laugh out loud. “Nothing about my life is regular! I scrape by every day, barely surviving. Nothing is ever regular…” I trail off.
The man replies, “That’s about as regular as it gets for anyone out here. Let us come up, maybe we can help each other out.”
I didn’t believe the man’s words and shouted back, “Just leave me alone!”

There was a soft noise across the room, probably just a breeze blowing through the slightly open door to the balcony. Seconds later, a cold piece of metal was pressed against my neck.
Chris said, “Put the gun down, and turn around slowly.”

This post was edited by furbyjs on Feb 20 2013 06:48pm

free bumpty

It's that time of the month again, bumping time.

I'd really appreciate it if some more people would read this =(
So far I've only gotten feedback from like 3 people =/

Haven't read it but if that's the title of the book, weirdest one I've ever encountered.