On the Road Again: A Zombie Tale

It was that moment in the afternoon where the sun wasn't quite beginning its descent but the sky had begun to change colors in preparation. For two patrons at the Silver Whistle it didn't matter. The pair sat at the mahogany bar watching the news with half-hearted interest. They both looked tired and the bartender didn't seem to care that the bar wasn't open for another two hours. He stepped forward and poured amber liquor into the glasses and refilled the remaining of the glass with a dark carbonated beverage. The woman pushed some money forward and the bartender just shook his head pushing it back.

"Thanks sweetie. I can use this."

"We all can." the bartender took the girls smile as payment and the gentleman sitting next to her smirked.

"You always do what you want, huh?" His deep brown eyes danced as he began to read his compatriots’. The woman smirked and shook her head.

"Nah... Not always." She ran a hand over her smoothed down ponytail and pulled the elastic out, letting loose her lengthy brown hair. She ruffled her hair quickly and seemed to try to ease the tension in her body. "Be a dear?" She held her hair to the side and turned so her back was towards her friend. He chuckled, took a swig of his poison and began to rub her shoulders. The bartender chuckled quietly to himself noting the sense of comfort the two had with each other. Her face relaxed momentarily. She let out a deep breath and began to understand why all these years that he had loved getting massages.

"How are things at home?" The gentleman asked quietly as he worked on her shoulders.

"What home?" She frowned and all the frustration returned to her face. She reached over to the bar and grabbed her drink, tilting her head back to down it.

"Shit..."

"Dead. Came home to find Mom, Dad, and Evey turned." Her voice was stilted. She twisted the ring on her left ring finger and looked back to her glass. Too bad it was empty. "Haven’t told Sven yet that I had to ..." Her voice broke and the gentleman’s arms went from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her close. She let out a deep sigh and sniffled, her arms resting over his.

"I'm sorry Julia..." He hugged her tight, as if she was the last real thing left in this existence. "He'll understand."

"I hope so." Julia stiffened as the TV seemed to get louder.

"The mob we've been tracking is moving towards the Taunton area, most notably near the Green. Please remain indoors. I repeat remain indoors, and allow the army to deal with the infestation." Julia started laughing a slow, unsettling guttural laugh. The gentleman with her shook his head and tapped her shoulder as he stood.

"C'mon. I've got weapons stored in your van."

"Who knew all those hours of left for dead would come in handy, Derrick " The girl smirked and stood. She pointed to the bartender. "You need a shotgun?"

"Nah I've got my own gun." He smirked and pulled out a sniper rifle, making preparations to mount it on the window. Julia nodded, clearly impressed with his choice of weapon. She pulled out her cell phone and shot off a message to her uncle, while they made their way to the car. A group of people with boards and nails began to filter into the bar.

"We're going back in there?" Derrick asked and looked over to Julia as he tossed her a loaded double barreled shot gun. Julia raised an eyebrow and looked over her sunglasses. "Right."

"On the road again..." Julia sung quietly to herself as the air grew eerily quiet. Just off in the distance you could hear the shuffling of a mob. "Just can't wait to get on the road again..." She looked down the sight to check and see where they were. Nowhere close, yet.

"Time for another drink?" Derrick smirked and she nodded. A least in all of this... she hadn't lost her sense of humor.

Dwarven Greetings

Sylvie growled, half thinking half wishing that screaming, punching a cardboard box full of packing peanuts and walking away would make her feel better. The truth being that it might but there were way too many cameras watching her. She leaned against the cold gray steel of the backroom shelves and stared out the open bay door. The snow fell softly as the calm, frozen whispers of winter graced the threshold. A shiver ran up her thin frame, prompting her to pull her sweatshirt tighter around herself.  She frowned and thought about all the different ways she could get someone fired as she approached the open door.

“Fucking people don’t even know how to close doors.” She shivered again and reached for the rope to pull down the gate. “This isn't a barn!” She tugged but the rope wouldn't give. “What the…”

“Listen, I told you we took a wrong turn at the last portal.” A light skinned woman walked forward from the open door and pointed on a map to her companion. The man frowned, though it was hard to tell through the mound of facial hair present. He took the map from her, gruffly and looked back out the bay door. Sylvie stood there, jaw hanging open, not entirely sure what to make of what was going on in front of her.

“Are you a dwarf?” She heard the words leave her mouth and then quickly regretted them. The man whirled his frame around. All… five feet of him. His long black hair fell down over his shoulders to his waist, with a beard to match. His bright green eyes glared at her and a slight snarl emerged from his lips as her breathed a reply.

“What else would I be, you daft lass?” His voice was deep and guttural, and more menacing than Slyvie had heard from anyone. The woman stepped between them and looked Sylvie over before smiling softly.

“You’ll have to excuse our companion...”

“She doesn't have to do anything but stand there like a hooked fish with her mouth hanging open, apparently!” The dwarf snapped and looked at the map. “No we’re here. This lass is the one. Let’s just get her and be off. Sylvia Cressfall, you’re now with us.” The dwarf’s snarl didn’t let up, and Sylvie’s eyes widened as he put away the map. He gestured to the woman standing between them and she winced.

“Miss Cressfall. Your hand.” The elven looking woman extended her hand. Sylvie, awestruck; put out hers and was met with the slenderest fingers she’d ever seen. As her eyes closed and consciousness flitted from her body, she focused on the dwarf, hoping for an answer. “Now lift her gently, Baldrik…”

“Gently? If she doesn't get a concussion, will that…”

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on…” Slyvie’s voice faded as her world went black.

New Promises

It's funny that it was almost exactly a year ago that I put this blog aside.

Many things have changed in that year and still, so many are the same.

One thing I can tell you, is that as part of my resolutions, I'm picking this blog back up. I'm also going to be partnering with Kit from Goggles and Lace and a couple other bloggers to bring you an exciting new project. Details TBA.

Starting tonight I'm scheduling in time to write every day in order to meet my personal goal. I want my novel published by the time I turn 30. It's only three years off at this point so II need to get cracking. On top of that  I'm attempting to pump out more short fiction that will be available here. I've let my writing fall to the wayside over the last year, which while awful, has also let me develop a few things on the personal side, fulfilling my life that much more.  Big plans over the next year, not only for this blog but outside it as well. You'll see...

That being said: tonight I'm enacting my resolutions and beginning my journey back towards that words and stories that I have loved so much. Be on the look out for a story before midnight.

Love and letters,
Jessi

Purgatorio-io-io

The door clicked open to a grey room, awash in the less than pleasant feelings of uncertainty and doubt. The winds were fierce but still unable to move anything around them. Stagnation took hold of everything that entered here and held firmly to them without a care as to why they were there. Seraphina took a deep breath and walked forward into the fog. People wandered to and fro not really making any sort of effort to get anywhere. Others remained in one spot watching an invisible television with all the memories of their life playing before them, twisted by time and the unreliable memory of those long gone from the material. Sera looked down at the file in her hand.

“Illiah Skylark” she said softly pulling the first paper aside to reveal a photo of the girl 20 minutes prior to her untimely death. She was pretty in a kind, gentle, unassuming manner. Hopefully this one would be easy to find. Looking up from her paperwork, the cherub frowned.  Most of the souls before her were fading into the background of the realm. Not everyone that was here was necessarily bad or good. Sera pushed a curl aside and looked about once more before taking a step forward. She walked quickly and quietly through the crowds of people, hunters instincts taking over. It was coming back to her more quickly than she had expected. To tell the truth, it had been 50 years since she had done this. She expected that all that time to make a difference in her abilities but, this… this was good. Maybe she wouldn’t return to the material yet. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. She stopped and looked towards the horizon. A woman, shorter than most, was walking towards her. She glanced down at the picture in the dossier and nodded.

“Illiah?”

“Yes?”

“Hi. My name is Seraphina.”

“Are you hear to bring me to heaven?”

Seraphina shifted uncomfortably. “No… I’m from the soul reassignment bureau. We’re bringing you back to life.” She smiled, hoping that’s all she would want to know right now.

“How long has it been since I died?”

“According to your file, 40 years. “ Sera said sifting through the papers in the file. “Why don’t we head back to the bureau and we’ll begin the process of acclimation to the material and you’ll get to know the persons life you’re stepping into.”

“I’m not being born?” Illiah frowned and sat down on the materializing chair. She looked up towards the newcomer with doubt and fear. She had wanted to go back. The material was a world she could remember fondly. The fear was deep seated from her death. The man that had killed her remained in the forefront of her mind. The material is where he was. 40 years though. Maybe he was dead? She had watched the trial as a ghost, wandering around the court room but he went free. There wasn’t enough evidence to hold him…

It was a cold stereotypical day in the northwest: rainy, cloudy, dark and dismal. The court would assemble in a little over an hour. Illiah paced up and down the streets of in front of Hope Point Court House waiting. ‘I’m dead, I’m dead, they can’t see me. I should get closer. Maybe they’ll have pulled up…’

Illiah ran towards the courthouse just as the frenzy of media coverage got there and began flashing their cameras  at the lawyers and the defendant. She pushed through the crowd easily enough(simply phased through) and saw her husband for the first time in nearly a week. He looked different. She remembered him as caring and, right up to the point where he strangled her. Her hand went to her throat, trying to protect herself from the feeling of suffocation again. The man who had loved her, now looked towards the doors of the court house, failing to hide his satisfaction with the situation. It had been nearly 2 months of trials and deliberations, upon whether or not he was guilty of the strangling death of his beloved wife. He had cried on several occasions in front of the jurors claiming to miss her terribly. Each time he tried, Illiah screamed to no avail. For a brief moment her ghostly wails were strong enough that it sent a chill through the courtroom, causing all assembled to question; for a moment, his sincerity that day. Illiah was sure she was wasting away watching these proceedings. Every day she left the courthouse sure that the next day they would bring in more people to testify against him, yet everyday she was let down by the prosecution’s lack of evidence. It wore away last nerves and today… today she was sure he would be sent to jail or set free.

“All rise” The judge, jury and parties were seated and the jury was sent into deliberations. A little over an hour later, the jurors re-emerged looking solemn. Illiah waited with baited breath for their decision. 

“We the jury find Richard Skylark, innocent on the charges of murder in the first degree.”

            Richard looked at his lawyers and smile, patting one on the back on the way out. He walked past his wife’s ghost, and out the doors into his new found freedom. Illiah would never forget the look on his face. Never.

            Sera looked at Illiah who seemed to be in a trance like state, similar to all the other souls surrounding them at the moment. ‘What is it like group remembrance time or something?’ she thought gathering the strength to try to pull Illiah out of it. Her face had contorted into an angry snarl, and her entire body had tensed up in the chair. Sera was actually scared of pulling her from whatever memory it was that was causing her to be this upset.

            “Umm….. Illiah?” No response. “Illiah…Illiah!” She raised her voice to a sterner tone, taking the girls hand in hers and squeezing.

            “What?” Illiah blinked a few times and shuddered remembering where she was again. It was always hard coming back from the dream like state of remembrance.  She looked about frantically, half expecting to see her husband standing in front of her.


             "I'll kill him."

To a New Year

The New Year is time for many to start again. For once, this actually includes myself.

In years past, my New Years celebrations have been with some great people, mostly close friends and my younger sister. This year was quite a different experience for me. Not in that there weren’t great people there, because there were! Instead of a bunch of adults kvetching and sending out a giggle into the night to break up the conversation, I spent the night with a little girl (I really should say young lady, I’m sure she’d prefer it) who was keen on making herself known as a young intellectual force in a game of Cranium. She’s bright and has a wonderful future ahead of her. I also spent the night with a new love. He and I rang in the New Year with the celebratory midnight kiss. It was a quiet moment that many people talk about. The world seemed to be shut out for a moment. I felt his lips, his arms around me, and the warmth of the moment. It was, one of the most perfect kisses I have had the pleasure of experiencing.  

Mmmmm..... sugar-y

In the season of new beginnings, the romance is not the only thing that will be changing my life. I’m revamping my writing. This year is the year of finishing for my writing. I’ve started three different novels over the course of the last three years, and I am keen on pushing at least one to completion. I need to get it out there, even if it’s just to get rejection letters. I want to be published before I’m 30 and while I know I am still a few years behind that… time isn’t going to slow down and make it easier on me. Time to get to work.

I’m also working on a fun little side project that I’m fairly intent on showing the world as I go. Once I get the first 15 entries done, I’ll be posting a link. For now, the only clue I’ll give you is Letter #1. See the entry and see if you know. If you’re in Inkwell, you know, so no cheating!

Well.

Now that that’s out there… What are your goals for the year? How did you spend your New Years? Did you find a moment of perfection? Please feel free to write a bit and leave it in the comments section.

Cheers,

Jessi

Letter #1

Dear You,

Sometimes, I wonder where we’re going to be in 10 years. I’ve seen how months can change a relationship. It takes so little to shatter a preciously built world. I hope that this will not be another case of that for either of us. I don’t think that is the case, but… you can’t say never to anything, I’ve found.

It’s kind of funny that I sit and think about the 10 year future, given that for all the wondering… I can’t see anything more than use snuggled up talking quietly at the end of a long day. We’re still there, giggling at the other’s awful jokes and telling the other that it’s really not funny, trying to hide the smile still.  Hands intertwined, watching the Christmas trees’ lights change colors slowly, the room lighting up in a myriad of hues.

The scene is one I hope for. I hope that in so much time, I will still love you the same ways, but in so many new ones too.

With all my love,

Me

Courtesy of Wordle.net