DISCLAIMER: Welcome to my weekly blog, as some of you are well aware, this blog, this week--will be a little different from what we normally do. Most of it will be writing instead of pictures. All of the writing is my own from MY creative imagination from a novel that I have been plotting for years. I had pieces of it written and backed up but alas in our move it got skewed and lost and all I was left with was my bare base notes. I didn't let that get me down though, I picked it up and I started again. Everything in here is MY creation, and I have taken the proper steps to make sure everything written so far is legally my own. That being stated, I can't wait to share with you and hope you enjoy! Zombies have always been a weird passion of mine, amongst the creeps and ghouls, witches and vampires, and generally spooky things that I already enjoy! I appreciate feedback but remember, everything is in plotting/draft stages so go easy on me.
--respectfully yours
Danii Grimm.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This night was like any other for Davis Taylor, a forty-five year old farmer with 360 acres of corn that ran for miles and miles located on the outskirts of the quaint rural town of Weippe, Idaho; the sun was finally setting over the rolling hills after a long hard day in the field preparing and spreading the compost over his nitrogen rich plots and he and his son were finally sitting down together to enjoy a semi-cooked Hungry Man tv dinner. He caught a glimpse of the brilliant gradient of colors that splashed across the sky from the window from where he sat in his Lazy Boy recliner where he leaned down to untie his work boots; the great stretch of sky resembled a backlit canopy with bright brilliant hues fading magnificently from one to the other. Once the heavy steel-toed weights were off his aching feet he allowed himself to relax into the faded leather which welcomed his body like a baseball glove welcomes a pop-fly ball. The leather hide of the cushion was so faded and worn there was a clear hollow indentation that molded perfectly with his body-and even though the television was on it was humming softly in the background so it wasn’t worth his attention as he settled himself in.
“Ahhhh....” He sighed and folded his crooked arthritic fingers over his sweat-soaked stained tee as he rested his eyes for just a moment before sitting up to meet the food tray in front of him. The salt from his sweat clung to him making his skin sticky from a hard days work even long after the sweat had dried, and he was sure he would need to shower before calling it a night. He took his red sun bleached baseball cap off his balding head and ran his hand wearily over the sweat and skin there. Even though he’d worn it every day of his life for years, it felt great to remove the knitted polyester fibers from his bare skin there, and even better to run his fingers across it; though he wasn’t considered ‘elderly’, only peach colored fuzz donned the crown of his head otherwise naked head.
Once he was settled into his niche, he braced his fork and tried to coerce his stomach to get excited as he stared at the bland meal before him. It had been like this for going on six years; he had lost his wife in a car accident that he and his son had just barely walked away from. Neither of them could exactly recall when it was that they had a home cooked meal. He starred in disdain at the lifeless colorless mush on the tray before him, secretly thanking god that it at least had a welcoming odor.
His son sat beside him on the couch with the similar look of despair as he raked his utensil through his mediocre food; though he was still only in grade school it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see just how characterless it was. Generally when it came to the shopping he picked his own meals but their menial existence meant they lived week-to-week on a budget-that and neither of them were culinary genius’, not even close.
Davis finally picked up the remote and started to flip through the channels; commercials flooded the airwaves, with the occasional ‘family comedy’ scattered throughout the network, finally his fingers stopped on the spongy remote button and he turned the television up. There was a Batman movie playing on a movie network but he wasn’t sure which one anymore, because of how many different ones were created since he was child himself.
The clock in the den started to chime the tune to Moonlight Sonata, to let them know that it was nearing on the end of their day; it’s sad slow tune eventually stopped and the only thing that could be heard throughout the petite farm house was an explosion coming from the screen and the distant ticking of the clock. Preferring to watch television in the dark, Davis reached over about an arm’s length and turned the small knob on the lamp to the off position. The only light in the room was the azure glow from the set as both men, young and old, ate their still nearly frozen oven-baked television dinners.
When he was finished eating he reached beside the recliner for his boots and despite the protests of his throbbing corns he replaced one and then the other; once they were on he laced them slowly and with determination, and with a dull ache he forced his fatigued body off the chair and he stretched.. “Good Lord I’m tired.” He yawned and picked up his tray as well as his son’s, tussling the adolescent’s ginger colored hair with adoration as he passed by him to make his way toward the kitchen to dispose of their leftovers properly.
Grabbing the keys off of the wall in the small space as he pulled the back door slightly ajar, he stared at the flower printed wall paper and again he found himself thinking of his beloved lost Lorraine. His fingers traced a flower and then dropped lifelessly by his side as he pocketed the small ring of keys. “John I’m going out to the barn to add this crap to the compost....I’ll only be just a moment. Go ahead and relax. I’ll be back.” His voice was still the same joyless tone he’d adopted since the doctor told him Lorraine wouldn’t make it through the night, and he didn’t wait for a reply-he merely shut the door behind him with a tug and made his way out to the great red barn.
The night sky was just like every other night; a vast, mysterious, eboy void with only the glimmer of the constellations that were never really the same. Even if the world changed in the slightest, those same constellations would cross over the dark blanket of night sky in a yearly cycle. That was how the world worked after all, mocking its residents in death as it continues on as if nothing has happened. Something didn’t sit well with him when he stared up at the void that was space, the only reason he even gave it a second glance was because Lorraine had loved the stars so.
The animals were locked away in the barn and quiet for the evening as far as he knew. The only thing that could be heard across the stretch of lawn from the house to the barn was the chirping of crickets and the almost electrifying hum of the cicada flies that nested nearby. A crisp breeze blew across his face gently as the grass sunk beneath his feet with each step closer.
The outskirts of the land he owned was mostly littered with tractor parts, and other various failed farming machinery that was far too expensive to fix or replace; his front yard was unkempt and overgrown with weeds. What once used to be a looming lilac bush was now a gnarled mess of brambles that housed a nest of wasps. There were chunks of grass missing where he ran his sunspotted black Ford 150 in and out of the driveway, and the house was in need of some minor repairs and upkeep. He never had the time to push his tired body to do the work that it needed though, there was just too much to be done and too little time. His mind wandered on the short ten yard walk to the barn, and when he arrived the door easily gave way.
His brows furrowed together as he realized the barn must’ve been unlocked for several hours. It left him a rather confused state as he tried to remember if there was reason he would have left it unlocked, but could not think of one. Curiously he pushed the door, and as it slowly creaked open he reached through the opening to flick the light switch in the breaker box to the ‘on’ position. Upon first glance there was nothing out of place, but when he stepped inside and shut the door behind him he could tell there was a restlessness in the air.
Carefully he surveyed the beasts around him; the cows seemed to be unsettled in their pens and couldn’t seem to keep still, but otherwise everything looked normal with them. In the back of the barn a horrible whinny pierced the silence as one of his horses began bucking wildly on it’s tied reigns. “Charlie? Jezzie?” He called through the great space as he slowly made his way around the bend. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and as a strange feeling settled over him for a moment Davis wondered if he should go back to the house for his rifle, “Is there a pesky polecat lurking back there with you? A nasty little creatine?”
An unfamiliar smell perforated the immediate area and as he approached the stables where the horses were stored it overwhelmed him. When he peered in at his worried black stallion as it bawled and bayed inside its confined area; he noticed that all was well but still something had gotten the horse so riled it was trying to break free of where it was tied to the post. “What’s the matter my boy...ain’t nothin’ wrong here...just a little wind outside...” He spoke softly as he patted the horses broad neck and his skin started to crawl. It wasn’t until now that he noticed his mare was unbelievably silent for how aware her mate had been, “Let’s see how my-”
Upon glancing into the dimly lit stall he could see where the smell had at last been emanating from; it was like nothing that had ever graced his nostrils and as he stumbled upon this hypnagogic scene before him he knew it was like nothing he had ever seen before either. There was his white mere staring blankly from where she lie dead on the blood drenched hay covered ground around her, her intestines and insides were still hot and spilling out. Her head hung limply from where she was tied on the reins against the posts of the gate and her bulging eyes and lolling tongue left a cold expression that said it all; knelt over her great body was the cause of the assault, though Davis could not directly tell what the creature was-it almost looked...human.
In all of his life Davis had never run away from a problem and as far as he was concerned this was a huge problem; he wasn’t entirely sure what the creature was, but whatever it was it was eating his animals-his pride and joy. He was far too proud to let someone or something help themselves to his profit margin. His gun was too far away to get without allowing this demon to devour another one of his loyal barnyard beasts, so instead he decided it would be best to improvise.
He scanned the general area until his eyes fell on a rusty compost covered shovel nearby; its use was obvious but it was just heavy enough to do some serious damage and that is just what he needed. The demon in the stall went on feasting unprovoked as Davis moved around it quietly and carefully. He could hear the slurping squishing noises it made as it filled its unrelentless gut off his oldest most prized horse. He knew the sound would stay with him all his life, and secretly he prayed to a god he didn’t think existed that everything would be fine as his son was only yards away in the house nearby and he knew he was all the boy had.
Davis crept slowly up behind the creature and as he got closer he got a better look at it; the skin on its back looked as though it was a putrid puce color, and it stank of rot and decay.. Squinting in the dim light of the small area he noticed there were pieces of exposed meaty muscle along the collar of the creature and it had chunks of its scalp missing. He took a deep breath, and though his stomach churned at the reeking natural perfume that had again assaulted his senses, he forced himself forward and came down hard on the fiend’s head.
His hands gripped the heavy wooden handle of the shovel; there was no going back now. Even though he had struck it so hard the back of it’s nearly rotted skull caved in a little, the animated corpse rose to it’s feet slowly. It uttered some throaty sounding guttural nonsense as it turned to face him. What he saw before him was even more shocking than the scene he came upon, he stepped back until his back was planted against the sturdy planks of the barn wall, and for the first time in his life he contemplated running away to save himself.
His hands began shake, his breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly couldn’t swallow passed the giant lump that had begun to form in the back of his throat; the sweat that had graced his forehead all day had reappeared even though he wasn’t overworked or hot. From the spector’s optical cavity Davis could only just barely make out the small shrunken eyes deep within the bottomless looking holes of its cranium; its eyeballs themselves were beady, a dark shade of halcyon, and they each possessed a small round sinister pupil in the middle of them. Once he was able to bring himself to pull his eyes away from that obstruction they landed just below, on two slits that he assumed was once a nose, which made him sick to his stomach. Pieces of rotting flesh drooped and exposed the red burning muscles and the concrete bleached bone beneath, a piece of its lip barely hung to its features, which completely exposed the teeth of the lower mandible. This creature was no human, and Davis was frozen in both fear and fascination as he stared at this real-life monster standing before him.
“Dear....lord....” he started to creep slowly away while the beast roared angrily at him for interrupting. Davis could have sworn he heard it panting with rage as he started to lose sight of it just as he rounded the corner.
His next plan of action was to lock it in the barn; clearly this thing wasn’t human and he had to make it to the house to call the authorities to let them know. As soon as he could see the entrance however, he could hear the hay moving underneath the monster’s feet as it began to pursue him. Turning to gaze back over his shoulder just as he made it to the door, the beast appeared right behind him; close enough to make him dizzy with stench. It held it’s finger out at him and seemingly stared down into the very pits of his soul, those puny yellow organs peering as far as they could into him as it tried to communicate with him once more. He readied his shovel, with his back against the entrance of the barn, and he prepared himself to possibly face-off with the devil, man to-well monster.
The horrid high-pitched animalistic and instinctive cries filled the air around them; it was so loud Davis wondered to himself if his son would come looking for him, and he prayed to his wife to protect him. It started to move toward him slowly, fixing its malicious glare onto him and never breaking its concentration away once as it approached.
Davis opened the barn door with one hand, holding the shovel out at arms length for protection; without looking behind him he stepped backward out into the open air. The breeze hit the back of his neck but every hair on his body was on edge already. A slow steadily rising cackle rose out of the monster setting off every nerve within him. He rose the shovel above his head and was about to shut the door, quaking with fear and fumbling with the lock as he did. His plans however were thwarted by a hand on his shoulder; when he turned he was face to face with what he could only assume was a female version of the thing just beyond the barn door. He wondered for a moment where they’d come from and if they were there together-but then shook the useless thoughts from his mind as he tried to concentrate on what was going on all around him. Working all day long had dulled his senses and made him tired, and any mistakes he made could quite seriously cost him his life.
Her hair was matted and almost down to the midsection of her back; the crimson color that clung to it made him think she had once been fair-haired, and the only clothes she was wearing were some shredded pieces of what used to be a sundress. Her eyes were the same as the beast he’d confronted just moments before, but her skin was comparably in better condition, but still a greying dead shade. One of her exposed breasts were busted open and her insides were leaking onto her fabric as she walked. She was taller than most women and if truth be told it looked like she could have been wealthy or powerful at some point but now she had been reduced to this. With unimaginable strength the second stinking demon corpse pulled Davis to it and in another instant her teeth graced the flesh of his neck. Deeper and deeper the specter sunk its jaws into the tendons and meat of his neck, and it did not relent until it got a chunk off him.
Screaming from the pain in his neck, Davis reached for his handkerchief in his pocket and he brought it to his gaping, spurting wound. He applied pressure to it without hesitation, despite the agonizing discomfort he felt and he tried to break free of the woman’s grasp. Just as he managed to tug his clothing out of her claw-like hands, he turned and bumped straight into the original walking corpse he had run into in the barn-it had clawed its way out of the entrance and was now holding him in his arms.
Laughing the same bassy, throaty laugh; he came down on the other side of Davis’s neck. He wailed into the night as the evil demon managed to lay his weakening body out on the ground with ease. Staring up at the the stars in the black night sky, Davis’ vision started to get weak and soon the sounds of his dying body started to fade as well. He welcomed death at the thought of being with his wife once more.
Out of the corner of his eyes in his dying moments, Davis noted that his son was crouched outside the house gripping his rifle. He heard his father’s cries and came to investigate no doubt, but had never actually shot a gun without his father’s help in his life. Reaching out to his son in his last moments, Davis wished more than anything that he could tell him to get into safety of the house and lock the doors. To his relief however, what felt like years was actually only seconds as the young man rose to his feet and did just that presumably to call the authorities; he knew they wouldn’t make it in time for him-but at least his son would be safe... That was enough for the old man to finally allow himself peace, as he slowly faded into the black realm that was deaths open arms.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay guys that's it! I know I know--maybe you are on the edge of your seat with questions but that's why reading the whole thing will count. All the questions about the book will be answered in the book. TRUST me. But I hope it flowed well and you enjoyed the characters and writing either way. Davis Taylor, is one of my favorite creations and I absolutely love painting visible imagery that a person can feel, smell, taste, and even see themselves while they read along. Hope everyone liked this piece, I was actually surprised that so many people voted that they wanted to read it! THANK YOU!!! IT was so flattering I almost cried and I haven't publicly shared my fiction or poetry in a long time. You people are making it possible to come out of a tough shell I've built around myself for years---THANK YOU for that.
Alright guys, I love you. Plenty to do, and so little time, so stay tight! be real! BE YOU!
