And So Ends Our Competition!

  Well, coming to end of the Very Terrible Zombie Short Story Writing Competition, I find myself really excited to announce both the writers behind each, and the winner Herself! [All writers in this competition being female, as it happens... Hm.., I wonder if that means women are more understanding of Zombies than men? A question for the ages, I suppose...]
  Now, I Really have to say something about each of them because I loved them all! Reading them made me grin or shiver or something in between... Maybe it was something of a grimace?
Anyway,

Competition Entry Number One!
Author: Nights.Raven

  What I especially liked about hers was that it was such the perfect zombie story! I could see it all like it was a movie going on in front of me. The main characters, Lizzie and Pete were completely believable, and I could see them as real people in a real zombie outbreak.
  Lizzie's personality was very obvious. She was level-headed and logical, while doing what she needed to in order to keep out of the zombies's way. While Pete, on the other hand, was smart, but brazen, ready to fight before he fled, very much the type of leader.
  However much I liked them, the end of the story was so chilling, so fitting for the story written, and I've got to say I loved the whole thing.
  Well done, Raven! Thank you so much for submitting an entry! :D

Competition Entry Number Two!
Author: Skyril Oblivion

  Yup, that's right, I couldn't resist but write one myself, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Larry's character I got sort of a mixture from different characters before, such as Scapegrace, but not quite as... Delusional. While Jacob Moro was more of the typical journalist I see in movies... Broke, out of a job, needing money, chasing down a story no one believes. To be honest, I loved them both, and I love it when I love my characters. :3
  Thanks so much for the votes and the compliments! I really had fun :3

Competition Entry Number Four! [Yes, four, we'll get to Number Three in a moment]
Author: DogsLikeBones

  I know the Announcer shouldn't really show favoritism, but seeing as I'm not a professional, I'm going to tell you this entry was my favorite. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely enjoyed all the other ones! I loved reading them, and I had fun, but Bones's entry was so light-hearted, while at the same time, having a dreary, zombie horror shroud over it.
  Debbie, for instance, was a zombie child, and Bones showed her hunger from Debbie's personal point of view, with a bit of human guilt seeping through her zombie cravings. Now just tell me that's not an original idea! I love the idea of it, and I love the way it's written for Debbie.
  When it comes to Allie and Wade, they make such the perfect team. I can almost picture them dancing into the church with classical music playing as they blow zombies's brains about with Wade's shotgun and Allie's baseball bat as the choir looks on in shock and near horror, more at their rescuer's nonchalant personalities than the brain-eating zombies coming towards them.
  It was perfect, and the ending was tragic and seemed so real. I could feel what Wade felt before he died before his little zombie sister, Debbie, as everyone fled the scene, more at a loss without Wade.
  Thanks so much for entering, Bones :D. I loved it.

Competition Entry Number Three!
Author: Kallista Pendragon

  And this is it! The moment you've most likely all been waiting for! Kallista is, indeed, the winner of The Very Terrible Zombie Short Story Writing Competition!
  I laughed so much after I read it! It came to a very abrupt halt, which was surprising, but fitting all the same. The theme was light-hearted and just fun! The story was different from the other ones, in that it actually had a happy ending, and, indeed, I remember grinning throughout. :3
  Of course, I'm sure you all know the characters, Kallista, Lizzy, Skyril, Ann, and Raven! The only thing I have to say about them, [Well, besides them all being exceedingly awesome, Ahem,] is that Skyril would most likely be the one heaving on the ground, she being more of an indoors, rainy day, bookworm type of girl, even in OC form :P.
  Still, the dialogue was funny and witty, and I just imagined everyone running away terrified from Ann's goat... Even if that wasn't actually what they were running away from... And Ann dressed as a zombie at a costume party! Just perfect! Oh, but Ann, now that an actual zombie has been spotted, you might want to remove that makeup O_o.
  Lol! So, congratulations, Kallie, for winning this competition with seven votes! You will now be awarded the crown for Queen of the Zombies, and you will forever be in SPG's records as our First Short Story Competition winner! I loved your entry, and I hope you enter any other competitions we have! :D


  So ends our first competition!
THANK YOU, everyone who participated. It couldn't have happened at all without you, and you know what? This is what it's all about- Writing. Writing for friends, writing as a challenge, writing for fun, writing because you need to, writing because you love to. :3 The world would be a much sadder place without Challengers like yourselves. Don't ever lose your spirit for writing.

"We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter's evening. Some of us let these great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them; nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true. "

Short Story Voting Post

HEY, EVERYBODY!
So the competition it now closed.
THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED!
And You-Who-Did-Not-Participate....,
Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame O_O
LOL
Kidding, but seriously, you should have. It was fun... Not that I DID enter... ~shifty eyes~
Well, you'll have to find that out for yourselves at the end of the voting period when you find out who's story is who's and, obviously, who WON! :D


Ok, so, VOTING.
[By the way, sorry that the text and everything is a little different. I tried to fix them so they were all the same..., but it didn't quite work out ~headdesk~ So ignore the color changes and things like that. ~sigh~ Again, sorry]

Let's make this simple.
Everyone gets one vote.
Leave a comment on this blog post stating either #1, #2, #3, or #4, and "sign" it with your username at the bottom. If you forget to sign, reply to the comment with your signature.
And if you also forget to do that, your vote will be ignored.

And that's that. :3
Voting ends on the 30th of this month- August.

Read and have fun!
Let the zombies consume your brain and dream nightmares of flesh...

Actually, don't do that.
That would be gross O_o

Zombie Short Story Competition Entry #4


 A/N Don't vote here! Vote on the voting post above!


Debbie was never a very insightful four year old. But then again, insightful four year olds are hard to come by.  Normally, Debbie quite liked the taste of brains. Very juicy. But for some reason, she wasn’t too fond of her mothers’ brains. Maybe, it had something to do with that weird connection that Debbie once had with her victim. But that Debbie was gone now. Only the odd little memory or the glimpse of a feeling would surface occasionally: she recognised a teddy bear that belonged to the other tasty little girl next door, she noticed someone else had beaten her to one of her classmates, and felt the jealousy that followed.
Now, as she chewed absently on the remains of her mothers’ brain, she felt a stab of guilt. No, nothing as strong as a stab, more like... a paper cut. Yes, a paper cut of guilt. Sadly, this little nuisance was enough to affect her taste buds. It’s not as if her appetite was ruined, that’d be ridiculous. But she was so hungry that she had to settle for second best.
So, Debbie finished off the rest of the brain, and picked at the pieces stuck on the inside of her mothers’ skull. Mummy always said to finish all of your dinner before dessert.
“What is for dessert, mummy?” The humane part of Debbie thought. One very startled scream came from daddy, and her question was answered.


Wade burst into the church and immediately shot a zombie in the head. The panicked screams of the terrified, helpless victims stopped as they turned to look at their saviour, to the angel surely sent from above to save them in their time of need. To the eleven year old boy with the mini rifle.
Wade wore a triumphant smirk as he advanced forward taking out more zombies before a girl bounded after him with a baseball bat, giving each fallen zombie a whack on the head for good measure. Together they swept the pews of the undead and heroically saved the poor, defenceless civilians – a gospel choir in bright red robes, hiding rather obviously behind the small altar. Wade thought, with an audible sigh, that these hopeless citizens would never learn.
But still, he looked on with pride as said hopeless citizens took in the sight of their glorious salvation. And the gospel choir looked on with confusion at the arrogant little boy and the unsettlingly cheerful little girl. The boy, dressed in ripped jeans and a leather jacket that was far too big, was stupid enough to prance around shooting zombies like that, and obviously thought of himself as a hot-shot video game character. The girl on the other hand, who was still wearing her baseball jersey and shorts, was stupid enough to take no heed of the danger and skip alongside him, swinging her bat like she was hitting home runs.
“It’s safe. You can come out now.” Wade announced, “Lucky that. Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t got here.”
The adults groaned and mumbled nervously as they rised, checking the boy’s handiwork. Even though it looked safe, everyone stayed on edge. One of the singers was about to demand what the boy was thinking, when the girl piped up.
“Ooh! Are you a choir?! You must be to wear those silly dressing gowns! Sing us a song, please? Here, I’ll start us off!” She then proceeded to sing ‘Hey Mickey’ at the top of her lungs. One of the singers at the back looked prepared to join in, until Wade put his hand over her mouth.
“Sorry. That’s Allie.” Wade rolled his eyes, “She does that. And I’m Wade. Bet you’re glad we showed up?”
The adult who was earlier interrupted spoke up, “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Uh, saving your butts, duh.” Wade scoffed at them, not happy with the lack of gratitude.
“That was incredibly dangerous! You could have easily been killed!” The gospel singer was now red in the face.
Wade’s grin reappeared. “Don’t sweat it, man – I play a lot of first person shooters. I knew what I was doing.”
The man looked ready to explode when another woman spoke. “Where did you get that gun?”
He shrugged. “Belonged to my dad when he was young, picked it up when I heard what was going on, came and rescued the people I heard screaming.” More questions and accusations arose, but Wade just waved them off. “No time for this, we should get out of here.” Ignoring complaints thrown his way, he walked off to make escape plans.
Allie stood silently among the arguing grown-ups, rocking back and forth on her heels. Occasionally, she would pass a random statement to one of the adults, even though they couldn’t hear her. “I was in the middle of baseball practise when I heard... We’re both eleven by the way... The zombies are really ugly aren’t they?”
Just as the choir were discussing how to deal with getting the gun off of him, Wade strode back up to them with the best plan he could think of. “Okay. We’re going to charge out, guns blazing, mow down some zombies, and move onto another town.”
The choir went silent at the boy’s ridiculous excuse for a plan. Yes, only a gaming eleven year old would think that was a good plan. Many of the adults started to protest, when Allie suddenly charged through them and out of the church, yelling “Great idea, let’s go!”
Wade ran after her, but threw back over his shoulder, “Better hurry! I’m the only one with a gun!” With this, the hapless singers had no choice but to follow their only hope of defence.

Wade seemed to have conjured an endless supply of ammo, and was not cautious as to how he spent it. He dramatically shot anything that moved or seemed a threat, dead or undead. Allie proved to have an excellent arm, and often got the better of a zombie with a few good blows to the head. The poor choir had no option but to follow their leaders and avoid corpses and pools of blood. A few decided to empty their stomachs on the way, but Wade’s only compassion was, “Take your time... but hurry.”
After their long campaign through the town, they finally came to the end of the main road which led on to an old country lane.
“This road... it’ll take us to the next town, right?” asked one of the choir members, a glimmer of hope in his eye.
Another answered, “Yeah... the next town has a police station. We can get them to help us!”
If the town’s not infected,” Noted a sour woman at the back of the group.
Before the others could get too distraught by this thought, Allie bounded forward, “Well the road looks clear! Might as well give it a shot!” She skipped on, the others groggily falling into step behind her.
Allie’s thoughts were set solely on the end of the road. Secretly desperate to escape somewhere safe, she darted ahead, oblivious to her surroundings. Oblivious to any more threats. Oblivious to Debbie.

Wade followed Allie through the street, proud of his success. But as he did, he caught sight of something in an alley, just ahead of them. He was about to call out to Allie when it lunged.
A small figure leaped at her as she came within range and tackled her to the ground. Wade immediately charged to save her, loading his rifle as he ran. Allie screamed just as he got close enough to take aim. He was as ready as ever to take the shot, but the sight of the little girl made him drop his weapon there and then. All sense of heroism and superiority disappeared as he ran, to stop her... to save her...

Debbie became very angry as something started pulling her away from her meal. She was too hungry for this! She pulled off a chunk of meat from the neck of her victim as she was dragged off; leaving the food to spasm, then go limp.
She let herself be pulled away before turning on her competition. As she went to bite his flesh, that humane part of Debbie began to act up again. She used to know this person... She used to know him so well that she hesitated, only for a moment. But long enough for one of the adults to pick up the rifle and shoot.
Long enough to shoot. But not long enough to aim.
The bullet hit Wade in the jaw. He slumped to the ground, lifeless. The smell of fresh blood suppressed any feelings from Debbie, and she began to rip into his skull. The adults took this opportunity to run the other way – into the clutches of more hungry zombies. Debbie didn’t bother with them. She was too hungry. But... she could taste it again. The guilt.

Zombie Short Story Competition Entry #3

A/N Don't vote here! Vote on the voting page above!


Running down the trail in the forest in the early morning on a cool fall day was not what Kallista Pendragon thought of as a fun time. Yet there she was with two of her best friends being herded along under the blazing arches of the brilliantly colored trees.
“Why are we doing this again?” She panted to Lizzy who ran slightly ahead of her, not even breaking a sweat.
“Because exercise is good for you. Now shut up and keep moving,” was Lizzy’s calm reply.
“Yes, of course,” Kallista muttered dourly but pressed on.
Next to her was Skyril who was happily taking pictures of the red, yellow, and orange leaf trees as she ran, not even deterred by the rigorous exercise.
“So beautiful,” Skyril breathed out, beaming a smile that challenged the sun’s brightness.
Kallista facepalmed.
“Somebody didn’t have their morning coffee.” Lizzy murmured up ahead with a smirk.
“Hush!” Kallista shot back determined to beat Lizzy.
Quickly she sped up to try and keep pace with Lizzy who merely shook her head.
“This is not a race Kallie!” Skyril chirped pleasantly, snapping more pictures.
“Who’s racing? I’m just running my natural pace.” Kallista lied through puffs, her face beat red with the strain. “Besides, we are almost to town. Red and NJ will be there right?”
“Yep. Meeting us at the coffee shop as usual,” Lizzy answered, managing to keep ahead of Kallista, effortlessly.
Suddenly Kallista dropped to the ground and rolled around clutching her side. “Oh, the pain!”
The expensive purple exercise outfit she had bought last week was already stained with dirt and grass stains. Lizzy and Skyril stayed comfortable in their breathable t-shirts and short set.
Both Skyril and Lizzy paused, jogging in place as they waiting for the usual rants of their friend to stop. Looking down Lizzy checked her watch.
“We managed to go one minute sooner than yesterday and the day before.” She spoke over Kallista’s head to Skyril.
“Indeed.” Skyril smiled cheerfully. “She is improving!”
“What the heck are you two going on about?” Kallista grumbled from the ground, itching all over. “And how come NJ and Red don’t ever have to run?”
Crouching down beside her, Lizzy smiled and patted her head.
“We were remarking that each day you seem to be collapsing nearer and near to the town. We are one step closer!”
“Um…Kallista. You do know you are rolling in poison ivy don’t you?” Skyril pointed out helpfully.
Kallista scowled.
“Oh don’t be like that. If you didn’t eat so many sweets we would not be here.” Lizzy laughed and Skyril joined her.
Kallista started to say something else when a rustling in the woods to their right interrupted them. Curious they all looked expecting to see a bunny. Instead, out leapt a goat with bloody matted hair. Something seemed off with the critter as it ran past them, out of the woods and into town.
“GOAT!” Kallista shouted, pointing stupidly at the critter.
Rolling her eyes Lizzy decided it was best to ignore her. “It probably got loose from a farm or the nearby petting zoo.”
Another rustling noise interrupted them. Swiveling their heads back around they suddenly found themselves face to face with a zombie who had just leapt over the bush.
“ZOMBIE!” Kallista screamed and began pelting the undead uselessly with pinecones.
“Ow! Stop that!” Ann protested irritated as she fended of the woodland missiles.
Everyone did a double take of Ann who wore bloodied ripped clothing and had blood on her face.
“Ann?” Skyril questioned as she peered closer. “It’s uh….good to see you. You look….great.”
Frowning, Ann dusted off more pinecones. “I was at a costume party that I was holding at my house when I saw my goat escape.” 
“Costume party? Cool! What did you go as?” Kallista piped up.
This time Kallista got the double takes then a light biff from Lizzy.
“Ow! What was that for?” Kallista moaned but was ignored.
Sounds of screaming in the distance got everyone’s attention.
“That would be my goat.” Ann sighs as she brushed passed them. “If you will excuse me now, I must go get my goat!”
Kallista eyed Ann with a bemused expression then leaned towards Skyril and whispered. “Do you think Ann knows her cloths are torn and bloody?”
“We should go and help her.” Lizzy muttered and set off after her friend.
Quickly Skyril and Kallista joined her.  They cleared the edge of the woods and entered into the park area where they could see just beyond, the quaint little town.
Usually it was calm and peaceful but that day people were running and screaming as if fleeing from something.
“What drama.” Skyril frowned. “It’s just a goat!”
Then they saw Ann running along with the people, her goat in her arms.
“What is she doing?” Lizzy wondered out loud as they set off across the green.
Ann caught sight of them right before she turned a corner. Stopping she shouted something franticly to the girls but no one could hear amid all the screaming.  As they reached the sidewalk by the shops they curiously looked after the crowd who had fled the other way. A few stragglers ran past them with panicked expressions.
“Well, it can’t have been Ann’s goat that frightened them so much.” Skyril mused then turned around to look the other way. “OH! MY! GOSH!”
Lizzy and Kallista turned their heads to spy a torn up figure of what used to be a person, tearing into the body of a middle aged woman.
“No!” Kal whispered horrified and she started to move forward to help the lady. But a hand held her back.
“It’s too late for her.” Lizzy said grimly. “We need to find a way to stop this zombie from hurting anyone else!”
Grumbling for her gun Lizzy smashed her hands together in frustration. “I KNEW I should have brought the Pink!”
“Well, one usually does not bring a gun with them on a jog.” Skyril tried to sooth.
“Uh, guys?” Kallista gulped.
“Yes Kal?”
“I think the zombie sees us.”
“Why do you thing that?”
“Because it is coming our way!”
Kallista and Skyril each took an arm of Lizzy who had prepared to stay and fight the zombie single handedly and ran.
Dashing across the street, they almost made it to the other side when Kallista tripped and fell.
“Go on without me!” She sobbed dramatically as the zombie hobbled slowly towards her, still a block away. “It is too late for me. I am done for!”
“Oh, get up you!” Lizzy and Skyril both biffed her this time and hauled her to her feet.
But instead of going anywhere, Lizzy paused to look at the undead that moaned and continued to get closer. Now it was in the street and soon would catch up to them. Kallista whimpered bravely.
“There must be something we can do to kill this creature.” Lizzy mused.
Out of the blue a large delivery van roared down the road and struck the zombie head on, destroying it.
Screeching to a halt even as zombie guts rained down everywhere, Raven poked her head out of the driver’s seat window.
“HOORAY FOR ME!” She shouted gleefully.

THE END!

Zombie Short Story Competition Entry #2

A/N Don't vote here! Vote on the Voting post above!



  On the dawn of the new day, Larry decided it would be a good day. He got up, brushed his teeth, buffed his ego by talking to himself in the reflection of the mirror, combed his hair until he was afraid of losing any more of it, and tried his best not to remember that he was fired just the day before. "You're a handsome one, you know that Larry?" He struck a pose in the mirror. "Not only that, but you're so clever it hurts sometimes! And... and... You don't have a job..." Larry deflated slightly, but recovered quickly. "But that's because you didn't LIKE that job! You didn't want to be there anyway! They were always so demanding! Asking you to DO things. Not very nice, at all." He grinned, and punched the air with his fist. "Now you're going to GO out there and get a job that you want! A job that is MUCH better than the last one! You're going to be amazing! Knock those guys dead!" He smiled. 



  What Larry didn't realize was that the people he was going to see about a job were more sinister than they appeared. On the front, it was just a building, a normal, average, every day building where people would go work and nothing seemed odd to them. The only problem was that in the background, in the basement, in the secret crevices of this building, stranger things were going on. Men with white jackets and scarred faces would slip past everyone and disappear through a wall, only to be remembered as a ghost story by some delusional secretary and laughed about later.
  Unfortunately for said secretary, it was not just a shadow she saw or a trick of the light. Indeed, it was a man, just as she thought she’d seen, and once someone had seen a man, this apparition, so they thought, they didn't last long. True, usually it would be passed as a candle bumped over in the night, or a kidnapping, or simply a car accident, but one thing was true about all these cases, and that was that their human remains would never be discovered but for perhaps a few teeth to identify them by.

  In all the world, however, there seemed to be only one man interested in these stories. His name was Jacob Moro, and he was a journalist. At least, that's what he used to be, but he himself had come onto some bad luck recently, and also lost his job as Larry had. The reason was more diverse, though, for Jacob had been fired because he was tracking down too many "ghost stories," and too many important people had politely requested that he be thrown out of his job immediately. His bosses had eventually agreed that it was time to cut their losses and let him go.
  Jacob was in too deep by now, however, and swore that he would find proof if it was the death of him.

  Larry, as it happened, had acquired the job he was hoping to get and started work immediately. His co-workers were like everybody else, and his job was altogether mellow, but at the same time, he always thought his bosses were a little strange..., A quirk here, a mishap there, and those quirks added up to something not quite the level of "average." Larry didn't think too deeply into it, though, ruling their oddity as the reason for them being the bosses, and Larry... not so much.
  But it occurred to him that perhaps if he acquired some of these habits of his superiors, that maybe he would see things just a little differently and would one day be a boss himself. Unfortunately for Larry, these quirks of his bosses weren't very good ones, but he didn't realize that, having only seen the shallowest of these habits, and all the other, dreadful things remained a secret.
  It was his third month at his new job when he noticed Marvin, one of these said bosses walking into a construction area in the office that no one was supposed to go into. With curiosity [having never heard the adverb "Curiosity kills the cat"] he followed.

  Jacob, on the other hand, knew the signs by now of these strange men. You see, he had been watching and sneaking in and pulling out report after report of unfortunate accident that fell upon the employees of this building for a long time, and when Marvin disappeared behind the yellow tape blocking off the construction site, he was watching. He waited a moment, and saw someone else following the man. Jacob didn't know who Larry was, of course, but didn’t he think that he was involved in the happenings. Nonetheless, he was suspicious and waited another moment before following after him.
  Passing behind the tape and the plastic curtains hanging in his way, he slipped into the construction site as quietly as he could. He heard voices ahead of him and jumped to the side to lean against the wall. Only peering around slightly with a recorder in his hand, to see the most horrible thing he'd ever seen before in his life.

  Larry couldn't contain the squeal of terror that escaped him when he rounded the corner Marvin had turned. There were men in white lab coats, splattered with blood, and there were knives and pincers and tweezers and things to stab and dissect with, and in the middle of the room was a drain with blood dripping through it slowly. Marvin had whipped around at the sound of Larry's screech and caught sight of him, cowering, his hands clutched to his chest in fright. Immediately he was surrounded and grabbed with yells of, "Let me go, you monster! You horrible, disgusting- DON'T TOUCH ME! OW! STOP! MARVIN! HELP! MARVIN!"
  Marvin sighed, "I knew it was a bad idea to set up here..., But what could we do with that pesky journalist on our backs? Ah, well, we WERE getting low on test subjects anyway." He turned his head, and Larry followed his gaze. There, in the middle of the room, was a bloodied metal slab with straps, and lights above it and needles and liquids bubbling on a table beside it with more knives that didn't look entirely sanitary.
  Larry's eyes got a little wider, and he bucked and stretched and tried his hardest to get free, and actually seemed to have a chance for just a moment, but was grabbed and restrained and strapped much too tightly to the metal slab in just moments.

  Jacob was trembling, shutting his eyes and wishing he were somewhere else when the screams started. He had never imagined things were this bad. But he stayed, getting absolutely everything on tape. No one came his direction, which he was grateful for because he didn't know whether he could get his legs to move.
  After a while, the screams turned to whimpers, and then went away completely when Larry had either fainted or died. Jacob didn't know which it was. Jacob gulped, wondering if he should try to move and get away, but they started talking again so he stayed.
  "My word, has it worked?" Marvin asked in wonder.
"I... think we've done it," someone else replied in shock.
"Look! His eyes! He's alive! We've done it!"
Jacob heard the men clapping hands and slapping each other on the back until..., "Just a second..." A female voice muttered. "He has no pulse."
"But...," Marvin spoke in confusion, "his eyes are open! Look! His head is moving! What.... what is he?"
"Oh my... I didn't think it was possible... Oh no... oh no!"
"What? What it is?"
"We've created.... a zombie... It's... it's a monster!"
Jacob heard the woman who had spoken before suddenly scream and beg for mercy, and Marvin started shouting "Kill it! KILL IT!" over the woman's shrieks. Jacob collapsed on the floor, beads of sweat rolling off his forehead. He pressed himself as close to the wall as possible, unable to do anything else out of complete and utter immovable fear as more screams and thuds and crunching sounds filled his ears.
  Then..., suddenly.., all was silent. A moment passed. Jacob swallowed, and a footstep came towards him, followed by another..., and another. Slow footsteps that dragged a bit on the cold, bloody floor.
  Jacob was on his feet, shoving the plastic curtains aside and running through them. He glanced over his shoulder but didn't see anything, and with a cry, he collided with someone and fell on his backside, looking up at Larry, who stared down at him with hollow eyes. Larry’s clothes were torn apart from the "operation" the others had performed on him, and there was blood everywhere and stitches. Larry stared down at him, his eyes dead, uncaring.
  Jacob was frozen, caught like a rabbit in the eyes of snake. Larry's hand reached out...
Jacob Moro was never heard from again.

Zombie Short Story Competition Entry #1

A/N Don't vote here! Vote on the voting post above!



A brilliant doctor, named Jeff Daldy, wanted immortality, so he tried to create a way to have it. But the experiment went awry.
After having positive results, he tried it out on himself. He died in agony and when he awoke, there was no Jeff Daldy anymore; all that was left was a living rotten corpse that had a hunger for flesh. He stumbled outside, where he ate the first person he saw, also turning them.                        
                                                                                                                            *                               
Lizzie hid behind the dumpster, her nose wrinkling at the repulsive odor. She peeked out and sighed in relief: the zombie that had been chasing her was gone.
It had been three weeks since the outbreak. She had no idea what had caused it, but all of a sudden, her friends and everyone she had known turned into zombies. Her parents had left town with other people who managed to escape, but were in such a rush, they had forgotten her.
She heard slow footsteps, coming closer. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the horrible face of a zombie.
“Hey, are you alright?” A voice asked. She opened her eyes to see a boy a little older than her crouched in front of the opening.

“Not really,” She answered. He offered his hand and she took it, crawling out from behind the dumpster she had been hiding behind for over an hour.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“Lizzie," she answered.
“Hi Lizzie,” the boy said, smiling. “My name is Pete,”
A growling noise filled the alleyway. Lizzie ducked instinctively, while Pete turned to face it; picking up a piece of trash; he saw her disbelieving look out of the corner of his eye and shrugged. “It’s better than just standing with my arms open wide saying ‘come and eat me,’”
The source of the growling was a zombie girl; she was bent over and her face was mostly rotten and she was missing an eye.
Lizzie watched her, eyes wide in terror. Pete threw the trash at the girl, who ducked it and snarled at him, walking slowly forward.
“Do you think making her angry was a good idea?” Lizzie asked.
“Probably not,” Pete replied, circling the zombie.
The girl leaped at Pete, who ducked. The girl went flying overhead and bounced off the wall, landing in a snarling heap.
Pete motioned for Lizzie to move behind him. She complied.
“We should start backing up now,” He whispered, and she started to back up. “Just to the sewer opening,”
Lizzie stopped when she saw the opening. She glanced over Pete’s shoulder to see the zombie on all fours crawling towards them, still snarling, staring at them with unblinking eyes.
“We’re here,” She whispered.
“Can you get it open?” He asked. She got down on her knees and started to move the covering. When it was completely off of the hole, she looked up at Pete to see him still backing up.
“Jump,” He said briefly and waited for her to jump in, and then followed, pulling the cover back over the hole. They heard the zombie land on the covering, making a horribly loud sound.
Lizzie held her hand in front of her face, she couldn’t even see the outline of her hand it was so dark.
“Can’t it follow us down here?” She asked.
“They tend to stay away from the sewers,” He responded. “And we have dynamite set up in case they get curious,”
“You’ll collapse it on them?" She asked.
“Yes,” Pete said simply; he took her hand and led her through the dark tunnel until they came to one that had a light at the end.
As they walked into the light, walking slowly so as to not shock their eyes, they saw a woman standing in the entrance, arms crossed and foot tapping.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, and then noticed Lizzie and her expression softened slightly. “Oh; you rescued another one, I see,”
“Yup,” Pete said.
“Here, let’s get you cleaned up,” Crystal said, holding out her hand to Lizzie and led her away. As she was being led away she saw Crystal glance over her shoulder at Pete. "We'll talk about you being out there alone later," she added.
                                                                                                                       
After Lizzie had showered; Crystal started showing her around.
Lizzie listened to her talk as she scratched absently at a rash; she briefly thought about telling Crystal and Pete about it, but she pushed that thought aside, thinking she was just allergic to the clothes she was wearing, there was no need to worry them for nothing.
 As they walked into the main room, they saw Pete at a table and joined him. “What are those?” Lizzie asked, seeing papers spread across the table.
“Some notes on the outbreak,” He said; Crystal leaned over, reading them.
“We know how the zombies started?” She asked; Pete nodded.
“How did they get started?” Lizzie asked. Pete started to explain, but was interrupted when a man came running in, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“They’re in!”
“How did they get passed the dynamite?” Crystal asked.
“I don’t know,” Pete said to her as he watched the man turn and open fire into the tunnel behind him.
“Everyone! Run!” Crystal screamed. “We'll try and buy you some time!”
“Go with them,” Pete said to Lizzie as he went running after Crystal, others following. But Lizzie just sat down as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She felt nauseas.
 Others also opened fire on the zombies, the bullets having little to no effect on them. “Run!” One of the men finally screamed. “It’s no use!”
As everyone ran to the emergency exits; Pete glanced over at the table he had last seen Lizzie at, and saw her still sitting there, curled up in the chair; her back was to him. He ran over to her.
“Lizzie? Are you alright?” He asked as he reached for her.
“Pete! We have to leave!” Crystal yelled at him, fighting to stay steady while being jostled by the crowd. 
“I’m coming!” He screamed back.
“Lizzie?” He asked. He touched her shoulder and she spun, snarling at him, her face already halfway rotten. Pete shrieked as she pounced on him, and flailed as she dug her teeth in.
“Pete!” Crystal yelled again, running towards him, but before she could reach him, she was also hit and knocked down. Her screams were heard by her crew members, some started tearing up as they fled with heavy hearts as they knew there was nothing they could do to save her.
By the time they all piled into escape routes, more than half of the crew members were lost. As they made their way out of the sewers, they fled to find somewhere the virus had not yet spread.



The End


About the Competition

Hey, guys! Well, since some people [including myself xD] was having a hard time keeping inside the word limit for the Zombie Short Story Competition, I've raised the word limit to 1500. That is, your entry must be no more than 1500 words, but it can be anywhere below that. It could be 50 words if you're feeling slow today :P

Anyway, three days left! Of course, that might be extended just a bit since I can't get on the computer every day all the time, so if you think you're late four, five days from now, send it in anyway, and maybe you'll be right on time :D

HAVE FUN!



Five Days Left

Pretty much, the title says it all! :P
The short story zombie competition will close in five days!
 Remember, the only rules, 1000 words is the limit, must include at least one zombie..., and that's pretty much it :D

Let your gory zombie invested nightmares have a moment of daylight....
Will you be the last un-infected human on earth? Will Zombies be storming a castle nearby? Will you be taking pictures of a squirrel when suddenly, a zombie walks up, and you start beating him off with said squirrel clutched tightly in your hand?



... Basically..., this is going to be funnnnn....

Zombie Short Story

Ok, I seriously only have 2 minutes, 40 seconds to write this, but I really wanted to remind everyone that today is the 10th, and I need your entries for the short story competition by the 20th!
You have ten days left! :D
Have fun!

Also, I'm wondering if we should have a short story competition on a regular basis with the winner being the king or queen of whatever the story was about?
What do you guys think?

Come and Write

  What say you we have a competition, hm?
Competitions are always fun! Well, generally anyway... well, OURS will be fun how about that! 8]

  Ok, short story! A simple short one that you can write and vote on :D
It will get the creative juices flowing! And those are the tastiest...
No, I am NOT a zombie.

  But we're going to write about one. Obviously, you don't HAVE to if you don't want to, but it will be fun so you should :D

Ok, rules:
1000 words is the limit. [That's words, not characters]
Must have at least one zombie in it.
Must be submitted by August 20th. [That's this month, the 20th, ok?]
When you finish, email it to me at sakura.c@goowy.com . Once I get it, I'll post it so that it's anonymous and people can vote on whichever one they like the best. [This is so that people won't be choosing one just because it's their best friend's writing]
You cannot tell anybody which one is yours.

  Ok..., that covers it!
By the way, this does not have to be a Skulduggery Pleasant Fan-fic, but it can be if you want to.
Another thing, just so you know, I'll be most likely submitting one too, [I can't miss out on the action!] but I promise I won't do anything special to mine. Oh, and of course, I won't be voting since I'll know which one is which.
  There will be allowed seven [7] days of voting time so that people who may not come on as often will have a chance to vote as well. I'll explain how to vote when the time comes! :D [Oh, sorry... Due to my awkwardness with time online it may not be exactly on the day, but I'll cut it long, rather than short so no one will be cheated out of submitting or voting.]

  ~makes shooing motion~
That's it... That's the end of my little... speech... explanation... introduction.. thing. GO WRITE! Writing is fun ~grins~
Oh, you want a quote?
  Well, you're quite right. I can't end a blog post without one, could I? It would be criminal, you're quite right.
Okie dokie

“I love short stories because I believe they are the way we live. They are what our friends tell us, in their pain and joy, their passion and rage, their yearning and their cry against injustice.”
- Andre Dubus


Oh, you'd like another one? Well, I can't say no!


“My short stories are like soft shadows I have set out in the world, faint footprints I have left. I remember exactly where I set down each and every one of them, and how I felt when I did. Short stories are like guideposts to my heart...” 
-Haruki Murikami

Really? Another one?? Hm... I suppose, but this is the last, ok! They don't grow quotes on trees, you know...
xD

 “For me, the short story is not a character sketch, a mouse trap, an epiphany, a slice of suburban life. It is the flowering of a symbol center. It is a poem grafted onto sturdier stock.” 
-William H. Gass

Under Construction [SKYRIL, READ THIS.] *EDIT

As you may have noticed, there is a new background. It is a template. If Skyril allows me, I will make width adjustments and such so the blog is spiff and fancy. I have a lot of ideas, so . . . can I at least try? And then if you don't like it, I can take it away.

*I went ahead and did it because I got tired of waiting. :P I must just add the header and voila!

-Gep