Category: Flash

Flash: Zombie Stench

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature (language)

“Oh … god,” Dick moaned doubling over.

Vinny turned back to look for a second before continuing his visual sweep of the mall. “You okay, man?”

“You didn’t get bit or anything?” Sandi frowned. It was just the three of them now and she hated to have to shoot another friend. The guys were too squeamish, so executions fell to her.

“No, not bit.” Dick panted rapidly a few times before straightening enough to lean against the wall. “God, I shouldn’t have had those chili dogs.”

“First fresh food in days and you complain.” Sandi growled, checking the ammo levels in her pistols during the lull. She frowned before stuffing a couple bullets into her revolver; she didn’t remember firing it. “Whine, whine, whine.”

“This after screaming like a girl?” Dick snapped back.

“The zombie grabbed my boob, before I blew out his brains.” Satisfied everything was fully loaded, Sandi did one last tap check to verify everything was in place before bringing her carbine to ready. “Had to have been a mother-fucking perve in life. First one to go for the double Ds, most go for limbs.”

Vinny went over to his neighbor, running an eye over Dick. Leather jacket was covered in gore; black gloves, heavy jeans, and work boots they picked up yesterday were far from new now. Dick’s face was sweaty and pale, but his lips didn’t have the crusting.

“Vinny, I’m going to need more ammo soon.” Sandi reported as she took over the visual sweep.

Vincent served as the group’s de facto leader since Warren bit it, bit it in more ways than one. A loss since he was the only one in the neighborhood who had been in the military; sure he got kicked out of boot camp on a medical, but at least he walked them through basic weapon training and opened up his armory. Warren had really, really wanted to be part of the military. Vincent was a little shocked by how much fire-power had been located in his little suburban cul-de-sac.

Satisfied Dick would live — and not turn around and kill them — Vincent said. “Granger Mountain replaced the Macy’s a few months back. It’s on the west end.”

Sandi frowned; it was rapidly becoming the day-care worker’s natural expression. “That’s past the food court. If any zombies made it in, …”

“I know.” Vincent’s voice cracked with exhaustion.

Vincent and Dick joined Sandi at the pillar in front of the Hello Kitty store. It had been prime real estate, located at the juncture between an entrance and the main hall of the two-story mall. Across the way was a Barnes and Noble. Looking down the hall, the group could see the retail excess of mostly useless clothes.

They had debated retreating to the mall once their neighborhood had been overrun. They needed a place with supplies. The Super-Walmart was the best choice, if they hadn’t run into horde after horde. Seemed like Wally World was the store of choice for mindless zombies.

 The mall had an ethnic food market and an Aldi. The zombies would have eaten all the easily accessible food, if they were around, but the canned goods would be intact.

Taking the left side, a natural preference since he was left-handed, Vinny announced, “Clear.”

Sandi verified the right side. “Clear.”

“Dick, you know the way?”

“With three teenage daughters? The mall’s a second home.”  Dick moved into point, following the established pattern. As the oldest, and most out-of-shape, of the remaining group, they liked him to set the pace. He was also, surprisingly, the most accurate shot. After Warren and Cass … left … the sniper rifle fell to him.

Manikins moved in the shadows as they quick marched down through the unnaturally empty space. Other than their booted steps, the only sounds echoing were the high-pitched hum of lights and the motorized rumble of the escalator. Grimacing, Richard ran up the ramp between the half-levels. One fight on a staircase had been enough for a lifetime.

Shortly thereafter, the grand hall widened into the food court and, for the first time since entering the mall, sounds of human movement could be heard. They ducked into a short hall immediately before the food court. Sandi, the smallest and most agile of them, poked around the corner while Dick and Vinny checked the narrow passage.

“Fifteen or so, but they are at the McDonalds. Half of them in uniform,” Sandi whispered.

Vinny nodded. They had seen similar grouping behavior. “Most likely with whatever functions as their minds, they chose a familiar place.”

Sandi pulled back completely into the corridor. “If they are in a safe place, they won’t react as fast. We could blow by them quickly.”

“Good plan. Let’s move on three. One … Two …”

“Where the hell are you going Dick?” Sandi hissed through the count.

Dick continued walking down the hall. “I’ve pissed myself twice, damn if I am going to shit myself.”

Vinny turned to see Dick pushing open a door. “What the hell ARE you doing?”

“Taking a god-damn bathroom break.”

Vinny and Sandi stared at each other in shock after Dick disappeared into the restroom.

“Aberrant behavior.” Sandi muttered.

Vinny shook his head. “Usually aggressive, not stupid like this.”

“He has lost it.”

Vinny looked sadly down the mall’s utility passageway; crazy they didn’t need. “Agreed. So on three?”

They broke out, Sandi’s carbine and Vinny’s submachine gun shooting short bursts, running flat out for once, without Dick slowing them down. Turns out Sandi’s visual assessment was accurate, at least as far as she could see. The steakhouse tucked against the food court’s side, around the corner and invisible from the restroom alley, held a much larger group.

The multitude, many having name tags declaring a store and a no longer viable name, flooded the area. Even with the generous use of fire power destroying bodies and with zombies being distracted by the fresh meat, the two were unable to continue. As Vinny slammed in his last magazine, through unspoken agreement, the couple retreated to the last defendable position.

The zombies followed, through no more than two abreast could fit past the public phone. A few bounced off the wall mount, unable to process why they could go no further.

They needed another gun to get out. Vinny and Sandi pushed open the men’s room door.

“Oh shit! What is that?!?” Sandi said, covering her burning nose.

Vinny nearly puked. He had several days of zombie gore on him, and he never smelled anything this vile. The small room reeked.

“Nearly done guys,” came Dick’s bass from second stall. Farting and sounds of something half liquid being ejected followed. The sound was horrifyingly similar to the sound of Cass using the sledge hammer on zombies.

Speaking of zombies, a swinging door is not much of an obstacle, once the zombies knew it was a door. They followed, like the never-stopping horde of mindless creatures they were, they followed.

And stopped.

Mindless does not mean without senses.

Zombies actually have a very good sense of smell.

The zombies gagged.

Not something anyone would want to see, and REALLY not something anyone wanted to hear.

Then the zombies retreated.

Vinny froze in shock.

Sounds of Dick pulling up his jeans filled the silent tiled room.

Sandi yelled. “Dick, whatever you do – DO NOT FLUSH!!!!”

“Sandi, what the fuck are you doing in here?” Dick stepped out of the stall.

Vinny turned on the woman of the group, “And why not flush that putrid shit from hell? We are going to be stuck here for a while.”

Sandi, the bounding twenty-something, curvy, beautiful, perky, relentless blonde, the one which had driven all men nuts during the neighborhood block pool parties in her infinitesimal bikini, the only female to survive the five grueling days and nights since the first zombies came visiting, grabbed Dick by the ears, pulled down him down, and kissed him thoroughly on the lips.

“I love you!” she declared, releasing him. “You get chili dogs FOREVER.”

After that she laid down and curled around her carbine like a teddy bear.

Vinny and Dick stared at her. She, their mascot, their backbone, had gone mad.

Sandi cracked open an eye. “The zombies can’t stand the stench. They don’t understand things change. They are going to wait until we come out.”

The two men heads shook slightly side-to-side trying to follow her reasoning.

“Dudes, we can sleep.”

(words 1,417 – first published 9/17/2013, republished new blog format 7/1/2018)

Writing Exercise: Out-Of-Alignment

Erin Penn

Alignment by Pajamas
Acquired from the Internet Hivemind

WRITING EXERCISE: Today’s writing exercise comes in two parts. First write a scene, a hundred to two hundred words, nothing long. Should have a Point-of-View character (POV); may have other characters as well. Second, redo the scene by changing the POV character’s alignment. Define the old alignment, and then state the new alignment being attempted. Have the scene remain the same as possible, only change the motives and what the reader sees through POV character.

How does the morality/ethical code of the character change how the story unfolds? How important is the internal mindset of the POV to how the story unfolds? How hard is it for the other characters of the scene to judge the character’s intentions?

Alignments are a concept from Dungeons and Dragons and other roleplaying games. They help form a character’s personality for non-actors playing in the game. Lawful good are goody-goody while chaotic evil are psychotic. If you are not familiar with the concept or want to try something outside your comfort zone, change the basic moral code of the POV character. For example: will do anything for money; refuses to do actions to upset people; will only act in a legal manner; just don’t make me dress up; etc.

***

My Attempt – Text Flash: Dream Dancing

Chaotic Good Version

I don’t like the room, a tight classroom where the girl-woman-child-female is compressed into a desk, the tabletop pressing her knees into her body and her neck and arms constrained. The blackboard screeches as chalk writes a dozen formulas, while an overhead projector burns like the sun, flashing words slightly out of focus and too fast to read on a white board covered with half-erased scribbles. All the other children in the classroom are much smaller, middle-school age and chatting up a storm, making the sole adult at the front – a faceless being – inaudible in the din.

Slipping into the dream, I sweep all of the distractions away, expanding the desk so the woman full-grown is behind a business desk. As she relaxes, I change the scene once again so the overhead light becomes a disco ball, and the woman is at a table next to a dance floor. My hand is nut brown against her pale skin as she accepts and joins me on the dance floor. 

Her head tilts up, smiling in confidence as we dance around the dream room. My suit and her flowing gown touching only around the legs and at the wrists. Her alarm interrupts the dream just as I had been leaning down. Outside the window, behind a screen, I watch her fall back onto her pillows and scream in frustration. She isn’t alone, but this is the first night of many. (words 240)

***

Lawful Evil Version

The dream room of the woman doesn’t suit my purposes. The tight classroom twists in from all directions, compressing the female a school desk with the tabletop pressing her knees into her body and her neck and arms constrained. Across from her, the blackboard screeches as chalk writes a dozen formulas, while an overhead projector burns like the sun, flashing words slightly out of focus and too fast to read on a white board covered with half-erased scribbles. All the other children in the classroom are much smaller, middle-school age, and chatting up a storm, making the sole adult at the front – a faceless being – inaudible in the din.

Slipping into the dream, I sweep all of the distractions away, expanding the desk so the adult woman has a moment is behind a business desk, unlike her day-job but something she aspires to. Before she fully relaxes, I change the scene  again modifying the overhead light into a disco ball, and the woman sits at a table next to a dance floor. My hand is nut brown against her pale skin as she accepts and joins me on the dance floor. 

Her head tilts up, smiling in confidence as I lead her around the dream room. My suit and her flowing gown touching only around the legs and at the wrists. Her alarm interrupts the dream just as I had been leaning down. Timing is everything after all. Outside the window, behind a screen, I watch her fall back onto her pillows and scream in frustration. She isn’t alone, but this is the first night of many. (words 269)

Flash: Climate Clashes

Erin Penn

Image provided by the internet hive mind through fakeposters.com

Thunder snow woke her. “Do you have to be so noisy?” Lynnsie muttered.

“Usually.”

The deep male voice startled the older woman, making her shift the blanket snow had tucked around her before the children continued on their way. She blinked against the dark afternoon, making out large form at the bottom of her steps. “Ah, it’s you.”

“Expecting anyone else today?” The man brushed the light snow coating the handrails with one gloved hand. Behind him, the winter storm clouds boiled high, driving sleet and wet snow into the man’s back and making her one-lane road impassible.

“Not hardly.” Lynnsie moved the cover from around her shoulders to her lap. Seeing the other about to take her steps, she attempted to stand, “You might want to stay there.”

“You should know by now, I never stay where you want, old woman.” He took the steps, and the glaze left behind by ice promptly removed his feet from the painted wood. He fell heavily on the crust the winter storm built on her lawn.

“I was going to get salt.”

The black-hair man growled as he got his hands and feet beneath him, the wet damaging his expensive leather gloves and boots.

Lynnsie sat back down. “But, since you haven’t learned manners yet, I think I will let things go.”

“It’s not your world anymore,” the man said pushing himself vertical. “Things are changing. Manners don’t matter anymore than controlling the worst weather can bring. Everyone safe inside their sealed homes.” This time he took the stairs with caution.

“Sealed homes won’t help against the worst weather can bring.” Lynnsie smiled sadly, watching the man approach, feet sliding, pushing little mounds of white fluff left when snow had tucked her in. The sleet joined him on the porch, crusting the fluff and creating icicles on the eaves of the house. “Our mother’s nature is as big as life and death, and four walls and a roof won’t hold her back when she starts tossing fits because you and those like you lack manners.”

“Manners.” he sneered snapping the longest icicle off, a good eight-inch point, thick enough for him to hold firmly.

“Yes, manners,” she responded firmly. “Helping out in the house. Taking care of your neighbors. Asking before using things. Putting things back. Keeping things clean. Don’t waste food and resources, like leaving the water running so there is no heat for showers. Saying please and thank you.”

“Okay, let me try it out.” The man pierce Lynnsie with the dagger of frozen water. “Thank you for not running.”

“Good boy. There might be hooo…” The light left the old woman’s eyes.

“Hmm. That wasn’t so bad.” The man wiped the lingering frost from his gloves before pulling out the list. “Who’s left to remove?”

The wind tried to tear the list from his fingers for a look, until he batted the gossip back. He didn’t need the others to be warned. If climate change was going to take, the other keepers of the old ways needed to be removed. He sucked in the frozen air and sleet, feeling the coal smog lacing the wet, giving him strength. Only four more to go before the see-saw of extreme weather would become permanent. He stepped off the porch into the driving thunder and sleet storm, disappearing from view.

(Words 558; First published 6/24/2018)

Flash: Climate Companions

Erin Penn

Image provided by FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Ice strolled down the little used road looking for a place to rest. Behind it, frost tinged the trees while meandering, touching a leaf there, a twig here. Snow followed close behind, just a dusting, but enough to bring fog outside for a dim day.

Lynnsie rocked on her porch watching the approach. Behind the four friends, ice, frost, snow, and fog, nasty weather patterns were ganging up to chase their kinder winter cousins down, changing the gray canopy to black, except where lighting streaked a temporary bleached curl of clouds.

The road to her place was long, and she didn’t have much in the way of neighbors. Nature and weather chatted with her and kept her company most days, helping her drink lemonade during the summer and hot tea during the winter.

Today, though, she waited for what the storms would bring. With still a few hours until the tempest blew in, all agitated from being shoved up to Canada by the jet stream and dragged back to the moist south once good and cold from the polar shield, she enjoyed the quiet of the winter children playing.

Ice stopped at the bench by her front steps, coating them and the sidewalk with a slippery layer. Shy frost quickly nipped at her nose in affection before running back to its stronger cousins. Snow stayed at the edges of the lawn, not liking the warm spring in her backyard, while fog raced past everyone, giving her an insubstantial wave, to jump into the natural spa.

(words 255; first published 6/17/2018)

Flash: Yellow Eyes

Erin Penn

Rating: Mature

The yellow eyes burned. Everyone in the room must feel them. Although the creature standing in the hatch had been motionless since the first moment humans found the spaceship, Walter swore he felt the eyes scan everyone in the tour group before settling on him.

*?*

He was in Las Vegas for a convention and decided to catch the freak show. Fifteen years ago a ship landed on some yahoo’s land in Nevada. Of course the government immediately confiscated it, but everyone in the world had seen it come in. Made the Russian meteor the year before look like a flashlight. Rather than face a world war over it, the government decided to go with common law land rights. The yahoo turned around and sold the alien ship to a casino and retired to Florida. Damn lucky yahoo.

*You/I could be so lucky.*

But not in this lifetime, mortgages were just getting harder and harder to sell as the government kept interfering. Like it was the industry’s fault the economy went into a recession for two decades.

Walter let others press by him in their urgency to get closer to the exotic. The outer rooms of the exhibit had plenty of pictures, including a personal favorite of the cock and slit hidden under the pale green short tunic the alien wore. The casino knew their patrons’ interests and got someone to lay on their back for that particular shot. He felt no need to get closer. The yellow eyes burned hot enough from this distance.

*I should move around to not draw attention.*

Must drive the scientists nuts to only have eight hours a day access without the public involved. Walter let his body start moving with the crowd. Still the nerds should be happy the alien was being treated as an international treasure; the casino was even going to send it on a world tour next year.

*The being is very attractive.*

The hair was amazing, caught back in a crystalline band clipped to the nape. Beyond the band the mammalian thin blond hair seemed to become thick reptilian feather-like fur flowing up, down and sideways as though suspended in water. The hair completely blocked the view of everything beyond the hatch with its seething frozen mass. The creature was halted midstep, about to have one of its thick white boots step onto the disembarking ramp. Its nipples pressed against the gauzy tunic fabric, firmly pointed to meet a brave new world.

*I could help free it – her – from the time statis.*

The ship could be moved in its entirety, but nothing changed about its being. No radiation emitted; no dust landed. Walter had never attempted physics in the two semesters before his drunk and flunk succeeded, but something seemed to have fixed the entire structure in the fourth dimension completely according to the outside displays.

*Our science cannot equal an alien from the stars.*

Don’t know why the geeks even try. Walter took one last look at the nipples. He could feel the puckered points rolling around on his tongue.  He felt connected to the frozen yellow-eyed alien; he also traveled and worked hard to end frustrated. Tonight, maybe with a couple of items from the wet bar, he might sit back and dream of the alien and take care of some of that frustration.

*And accept its seed.*

He never been interested in dick before, but the slit was also available. Could be an interesting experience if the girl was mobile. He ran his right hand along the ship on the way out, feeling the tingle some people had reported experiencing. Most reported the eerie feeling of their hands sliding over nothingness. Yeah, he was going to fuck Ms. Hand until the tingle spread over his whole body while thinking about the burning yellow eyes.

(words 638 – originally appearing at Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 3/10/2013 (original photo of unknown copyright), republished in new blog format 6/10/2018)