Character Creation Contest #35 Zombies!!

Be they fast or slow, groaning or silent, they are the dead risen!

I want a zombie story.

You will have til the end of the month which is the 28th to get an entry in. Again we run on Australian time use this link Current Local Time In Sydney to know the exact time so you don't get caught out by a day.

No word limit, any time/place/location/universe you see fit

Write well

@batkevin74: I may bow out of this one- not sure I've got a zombie story in me.

@cbishop: Everyone's got a zombie story, maybe the story is from the zombies pov. Maybe its a love story that just happens to have zombies in it. Tis just a story after all...with zombies

Why?

@batkevin74: Well, I did say, "not sure." I haven't missed one in awhile, so chances are I'll come up with something. ;)

Um question, what kind of zombie are we talking about?

@4donkeyjohnson: Why not?

@impurestcheese: zombies, undead, you know zombies.

If you want to dress them up in Mariachi outfits, make'em space dead things or special science created things is up to you. But essentially for zombies its: dead, brains, moaning optional. Your call. Or if you're being extra clever about how normal people become zombie-like...

@batkevin74: Yeah that's a very Hollywood description, wonder if I can skirt aroumd that with something more traditional

@impurestcheese: Traditional voodoo blowfish poisoned people, go for it

Here's a character I made, which I may or may not use in a story. Let me know what you think of him.

@batkevin74: Not that, I'm talking about something older and far more Primeval

@dark_cloud_: Write it up, I say

@dark_cloud_: I think he sounds almost too powerful, but only almost. In the effort of making him impervious to everything you could possibly imagine being thrown at him, some of his attributes seem to contradict each other. The only way to be sure though, is to actually put him in a story, and see if it makes sense afterwards. So let's see it. ;)

P.S. What I really want to know is how you got the "TM" in your screen name.

@cbishop said:

He's not impervious to everything in the sense that he's invulnerable to conventional injury. He's as susceptible to attacks as the normal Zombie. The only difference is that his healing happens only while he's turning back into his living form.

I typed in ™ (Alt+0153) when I first joined so many years ago. I think back then we were able to use minor characters in our name.

This is the contest I was born for. I will find the time.

@wildvine: Uh oh. This ranks somewhere on my ten comicvine related horrors.

@impurestcheese:

I hope a cheese grater armed Cthulhu is on that list

@wildvine: Does CatalinaIC count as that?

@impurestcheese:

Nah. She history. Haven't hear from her in ages.

@wildvine: I still fear her, she was plagerising pieces of Marvel Mayhem (mostly mine but some other stuff as well)

@batkevin74: Heh, maybe I could use my last story (Dr. Steve)

No, but I will start working on something

@the_families: How many people are you?

@batkevin74: I lost count.....

Adrienne, Zombie Queen.

I didn't really know I was dead, until a few minutes after the incident. You never really do until you look down and see how bloodied and bruised your body looks. High school homecoming prom, it was the night of my life. That was also the night I died, so it kind of sucked too. I got over it though. So, the night was tiring, probably around 10 o'clock at night. I got to bed very early, so it wasn't the best night, but I got through it. As I was walking with my boyfriend, Damian, back to the car, out of nowhere, a car sped past us.

I hadn't realized it actually had hit us until I was flying in the air and slamming into the gravel road. My eye, it stung terribly. It felt burned, singed and fried. I felt for my crown on top of my head, and then, I realized that my homecoming queen crown, was in my eye socket. Blood dripped from my eye socket as I screamed, nothing. As I looked around, all I could see was people screaming. Damian, who had not been hit by the car, was crying.

In that moment, I realized I was actually dead. I looked around, my body was cast upon the ground, bloodied and scarred. I felt like crying, crying so hard, but the closed and impaled eye socket prevented me. As I felt a surge of unknown volts in my body, I felt slowly sucked back into my body. I was thinking, "Yes, God has given me a second chance." But, oh, was I wrong. I was completely wrong, Satan had given me a second chance, I didn't want this chance.

I shot up in my body on the street, I could still feel the blood on my face but the flowing had stopped. Damian had screamed in high pitches, like a schoolgirl. As I tried talking, moans came out. I couldn't feel my heart racing, no anxiety, no panic attacks. I tried bringing myself up, but I was stuck, bloody and battered and my guts were sprawled across the ground.

I felt like I could just cry, bawl to my mother and race for her help. However, I couldn't. Outside, I could see a security guard. He brought up his pistol. I could see the shot, and I could feel it. I felt the bullet in my rib cage, and the pain slowly subsided. There was no blood, no blood flow. I brought myself to my feet. I felt urges, slow and dangerous urges.

I jumped towards a girl, and I slowly bit into her throat. I couldn't get myself to stop, and I slowly ripped her throat from her neck. I couldn't stop, the throat was juicy, tender, sweet, and left the taste of punch in my mouth. I went back for more, ripping more and more bits from her skin, especially her thighs, which were juicy, and tender.

Then she got back up.

Damian had came back, and had tapped me on the shoulder. "Adrienne? Adrienne?" he said softly, and reassuring. I growled, and turned around and snapped at him. Catching a hold of his wrist, with a new found strength, I slammed him on to the concrete. I pounced on to his body and started ripping off pieces of him. The girl joined in.

The party-goers screamed and ran away. As they yelled, the urges got stronger. I raced towards the people, but stumbling in my high heels, I bent down and took them off. As I looked up, I could feel the sharp blade of a knife shoot into my skin. I moaned, and the blade was lifted further and further into my body until the incision could reach my throat. I felt a kick in the chest as I was sprawled backwards.

I felt my head slam into the curb, and I was out.

Oh god, Hell is a dark place. With flying red midgets, and dangerous guards made of fire holding huge pitchforks that were burning hot from the high flames that burned all around, anyone was scared to come here. I was parched, famished, but nothing existed but the forbidden fruit of Eden, the apple that tricked Eve into the first sin.

Around me, people of all ages, were covered in soot and ash, some were even carrying urns, I felt for my crown, now not in my eye, but back in my long dirty blonde hair. My skin was flesh-tone, and I felt normal. But then I realized, Hell is a place of trickery, and I was just as evil as the Devil himself.

I looked at a girl standing next to me, she was carrying a blue and yellow urn with poorly written letters on the side. "Who's is that?" I asked, quietly and curiously. "Mine, everyone gets one." She said, a grin filled her face, showing pointed teeth and rows of other teeth. "You must be new, we all get something from what killed us, if it was something sent by Satan himself, then we go to Hell. I saw that car that came and hit you, Satan sent it. I was bit by a tiger shark and then slowly ripped apart by other sharks." She said, her voice was somewhat soothing.

"We also all get demon powers." She said, showing red bat wings that extracted from her back. No wonder my back was hurting. 'Oh, and we all get second chances, as what Satan calls zombies, and now you're a cool car demon zombie, it's pretty awesome. I'll go with you, and we can rip apart some prom goers." She said, her voice was comedic and joyous.

"Let's go girl." I said, and I and Shark Zombie, were off, hungry and ready to feast on some people's faces, because why not.

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Powers: Due to her killing by the car, she has an increased speed than most other Dimtris (zombie demons.) As well as further accuracy, aim and better flying with her wings. Due to being a demon, she gets flight from provided wings, can teleport (somewhat), can breath fire, as well use pitchforks and other close range or throwing weapons. She can use most things that are said to be evil in her advantage. By eating people and feasting, she gets more strength, and her powers can increase from feasting, as well as making more zombies.

( I think this is one of my best entries, so I think it will do well! Hope you enjoyed! )

I will see what I can do.

I'll believe it when it's actually up

Well here is my entry;

Draugr's SIckness and the Blackened Sword

For the events the procede this tale follow this link to Character Creation Contest #20

Mist filled the afternoon sky and clung to the skeletal trees that overhung the forest road, the Viking search party walked beneath them surging through a clinging carpet of fallen leaves and rotten bark. At the head of the group of twenty four, was a man dressed in a mail coat, a masked helmet and leather trousers with matching boots. Power radiated from his impressive form but it was mixed with sorrow.

"My Thane," One of the men walking half way down the column called, "How long must we peruse your bewitched son. We have been following the river for many days and it has led us into some strange country indeed."

"From what I saw on the charts the road splits in two not far ahead." The Thane announced as the road began to head uphill into wilder more barren country. "The kingdom of Northumberland isn't far and we know of that place from our traders." He added before stopping and looking across the fog dusted moors ahead of him.

"Just be glad it isn't raining." One of the men snorted as he took a swig of water from the hide canteen draped over one shoulder. "This accursed land should have drowned long ago under the deluges it suffers."

"Quiet." A third warrior whispered as the Thane stopped and gestured to one of the bowmen in the group to come to the front of the column. Silently he pointed to a shape sitting in a large hollow punched into the moor before pointing at himself, the archer nodding as he received his instructions. Cautiously the Thane walked ahead alone, silently making his way down into the hollow.

"Greetings wanderer" He announced in the friendliest voice he could muster, his words causing the man dressed in leather to spin around, his sword held ready to block an attack. "I'm looking for the road to Northumberland; you couldn't tell me where it lies."

"There are two roads." The man announced in the local Saxon tongue. "But I will reveal neither to you until I know your reasons for asking."

"Fair enough.” The Thane sighed. "My men and I seek my son who was lured away by a Celtic witch upriver. We believe that they may have left the river here and headed towards the untamed North."

"A fair answer." The Saxon announced before pointing his blade southwards. "The forest road is longer and skirts these moors; it is the path more travelled then the ancient path through the fells. I would urge you to take the former and avoid the cursed barrows such as the one I stand vigil by." He added gesturing to the fair sized mound in the centre of the hollow, a wall of stones covering the entrance.

"Why do you guard such a place?" The Thane asked as the piercing scream of a fox sounded from down past the forest road.

"I swore an oath to my friend to stay three nights at the graveside." The Saxon replied sharply. "Take the forest road, traveller and keep both fire and iron close to you until you leave the shadow of these moors."

"Thank you my friend, may the Gods protect you during your vigil." Thane stated as he turned and headed back to the slope leading out of the hollow. Reaching his men he took one long look back at the barrow. "We take the forest road around the moors."

"But the path over the fells..." One of the warriors grunted only for the Thane to draw his sword and hold the blade against his throat.

"I am the Thane; you will do what I say!" Thane snarled before shooting another look at the Saxon. "Go ahead without me, I will rejoin you at the Western edge of the moors. I will stay here, something about these hills doesn't feel right." He added before heading back towards the barrow. Reaching the hollow again he sat down next to the guardsman and looked out towards the Barrow. "May I ask why your friend asked you to complete this vigil?"

"My friend Henga went into the moors seven days past and returned two moons later, his skin drained of colour, wounds across his body and sickness in his lungs. He was dead two days after that." The Saxon explained, "It was clear he had caught the Draugr Sickness, an ailment that raises the dead, it was clear that despite his unflinching faith that he may rise again as a Draugr."

"Draugr? What manner of sorcery could raise them men from their eternal slumber?" Thane asked as the sun began to set, the evening light dancing off the mist."

"After our conversion to Christianity we became wary of the wrath of the old gods. We were right too, the death eagle Ari circled the barrows of our ancestors thrice and scared their souls back to their earthly remains." The Saxon announced as the sun set behind the western edge of the fells. "My vigil here is to make sure, that should Henga be awoken, that he is returned to his eternal slumber before he can turn his former friends."

"Then I, Kanute son of Erik, offer my sword to aid in your noble vigil." The Thane offered.

"And I Horsta, son of Hath accept your blade and your company." The Saxon announced, "Now we wait for the Sun to return and hope the dead don't rise this night."

**

Thane was beginning to drift off when he heard what sounded like stones rolling down the side of the barrow. Getting to his feet he saw what looked like thick fog gushing through gaps in the loose stone of the barrow door.

"Prepare yourself." Horsta whispered as both men drew their swords as the fog got thicker and a hoarse moan sounded from inside the barrow before the door was smashed open and a fell shadow surged towards them. Rushing to meet their attack Kanute and Horsta slashed out only for the Draugr to block the first blow and angle round the second. As he parried the corpse’s counter attack Kanute measured his foe up; whoever Henga was he had changed, his skin now a rotten black colour with bone stabbing out of the shoulders whilst pools of blue light shone from his eyes. And while Kanute knew he had only been dead for a few days the man stunk as if he had been slain many months ago.

"Henga come to your senses." Horsta coughed as the Draugr made a grab for him, the scent of his rancid flesh causing his victim to balk and vomit.

"Horsta join the chorus of the dead." Henga groaned as he snapped Horsta's blade in two before retreating back into the barrow. "Join us in a life eternal." He added as Kanute chased after the pair into the barrow, faint blue flames lighting the tomb. And lying by the base of a massive stone statue of an ancient king was the flayed body of Horsta. The only thing missing was the Draugr, the only sign of the undead creature was a recently dug grave and a blade stuck out of the earth.

"Living carrion!! You will pay for your unnatural deeds!" Kanute yelled as he looked around the tomb, unaware of the figure scuttling on all fours behind him from shadow to shadow towards the Viking Thane. Turning Kanute lashed out, his sword slashing through the Draugr's fingers, the rotten digits flying off the corpses hand as it retreated back into the shadows.

"The iron bites but it isn't enough to slay me." The Draugr hissed its words accompanied by the sound of a blade scratching across stone from off to the left of where Kanute stood.

"Then emerge and face me coward!" Kanute yelled as thick fog came rolling in from the entrance of the barrow. Backing up Kanute got himself ready as he saw shadowy hands reach out of the mist for him. Steeling himself he heard the stone behind him creak and turned to see the Draugr dropping down on him, claws ready. With a scream Kanute dodged left, his blade snapping on the barrow floor.

"Now defenceless you are." The Draugr purred as he advanced on Kanute, the Viking reaching out for the blade embedded in the earth behind him. Ripping the sword out of its dirt embrace Kanute thrust the blade out, iron cutting through the rotten flesh. Getting to his feet Kanute watched as coils of flame lanced out from the torches and engulfed both head and body, reducing the Draugr to ash.

"What happened next grandfather?" A child's voice asked as the fire began to die down. The wizened man smiled and gathered his grandson and grand daughter close to him as the sun began to set below the green ocean to the west. “Well you see a Draugr can only be contained by iron, even that of his own sword and fire does little to keep his spirit from razing other corpses. As such I took the Draugr's ashes to the river bank and consecrated them with the blessing of Njord to prevent his return to life and turn more folk into living corpses."

"What of the Draugr's sword?" The little girl asked.

"Blackened with fire and stabbed into stone." Kanute answered as he held both of them close before closing his eyes. "Now go to sleep and dream not of the walking dead." He added as he walked the pair of them back towards the nearest long-house.

"What if they come in the night?" The little boy asked

Kanute stopped and looked outwards towards a thicket of burnt swords standing sentinel outside the town. "No dead will walk here, of that I promise."

@turbinail: Hmm a nice telling of the modern zombie type although as a deity connected with the undead Saturn feels a little out of place. That said it's your story (and a potentially strong contender to boot)

@impurestcheese: Cool setting for zombies.

@ostyo: Thanks the Draugr are the base evolutionary stock for the idea of the western zombie

@impurestcheese: Always love how people get so into making the zombie apocalypse either as scientific as possible, or completely supernatural balls to the wall.

@ostyo: Yeah I went for the later. I was sorley tempted to do a story from the point of view of a coackroach and a jewel wasp for this but in the end it felt to corny too work

@batkevin74:

More then fair response. I've have been a ghost the last few.

@wildvine: Jinkies the Carnival Ghost is really old man Wildvine.

@wildvine: You were all keen and ready for time travel but alas nothing. I will see your entry, when I see your entry :)

@batkevin74:

I had a story for time travel, but couldn't work out the paradox.

@wildvine: It's a real estate scam it must be...

@impurestcheese:

I would have got away too if not for you pesky kids...

Bah, zombies are so cliche... I love it!

@maccyd:

You can rock it. We all know it. : D

@wildvine: Don't forget my dumb dog too

Not that my daschund Donut is stupid or anything, <watches as Donut accidentally rolls of the sofa> oh wait she is

@impurestcheese:

I would never call out one dog. As a cat person I think all dogs are lovably dumb.

@wildvine: Ah I love her she's adorable and even had a cameo in Marvel Mayhem a ways back. Plus we qualified for Crufts back in February last year so that should be fun.

@wildvine: Now to just think up a non-traditional twist on the zombie genre...

Trevor was a zombie.

He wasn’t always a zombie.

Before he joined the legion of the undead he was an accountant. That didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now.

Well something mattered.

“BRAINS!”

The relentless shambling quest to consume them, and human flesh.

Trevor was a vegan before he was a zombie, though not before he was an accountant. Accountancy made him a vegan. Now though Trevor was dead, well undead, the feeling that he was consumed with an unquenchable hunger for flesh and blood made him sick to his rotted stomach. But all he could do to express his disgust at himself was yell.

“BRAINS!”

And being now a creature of instinct with echoes of thoughts in his necrotic cranium and a limited vocabulary made the normally meek and mild Trevor quite upset. Which was hard to tell from just looking at him as he was a zombie and most look alike. But to those who caught his eye just before he ate them to death would often see a glimmer of remorse tinged with disgust.

It was now a hollow existence, even hollower than accountancy. All Trevor could do was hope that someone would one day shoot him in the head.

But that day wasn’t today.

@batkevin74: Poor Trevor. At least my undead representative could talk

@batkevin74: Wasn't your octopus-on-the-head guy back in CCC 23 named Trevor too? What school years enemy are you continually mocking in fiction? lol

@cbishop: Trevor is such a nerdy horrible name and can be said so derisively in many different accents and inflections. Don't think I hate a Trevor at school, it's just my least favourite boys name, up there with those ghetto made up $h!t like Rayquossa, LeBron etc. Were they playing drunk scrabble and just making up words?

And then children, Btakevin phoned it in. That's when I knew it was my big chance to steal the win.

@wildvine: You assume the win is yours to steal. You're not the only one who wants to win, I've been struggling against the larger field of competitors (for reasons I'm not sure of) getting a win here may be just what I need to get all cylinders firing again.