-Undisclosed location

I meet the interviewee, ‘John’, in an interstate diner. John had tracked me down a week previous, after hearing about my report ‘from some friends’, and requested to be interviewed.

John’s a lean, rangy man and he’s wearing mirrored aviators. He drinks his coffee and explains his request for confidentiality. (more…)

Molly looks up at me from the bed with her yellow eyes.

The left is bloodshot, not pink but a deep, blood red.

I stand in the doorway and watch as she tugs at the ropes that bind her wrists and ankles.  The rough weave digs hard into her skin, rubbing it raw.  She would keep trying to reach me until her flesh gives, I fancy, until her hands and feet come off.

Good morning, dear.  I don’t speak aloud; talking to yourself is for crazy people.  I know exactly what I’m doing. (more…)

The artillery barrage had gone on seemingly forever. Hans and Reuter had long ago given up any notion of hearing anything beyond the pounding of the approaching wall of American 105 mm shells. The landscape looked like some cratered imagining of the moon the two men had seen in picture books when they’d been boys. It was clear that Wessel was no longer going to be in German hands for much longer. The two men communicated by hand signals, pointing themselves in any direction which would take them away from the Ami’s relentless bombardment. Running away held many dangers though. Both men knew all too well what would happen should the Feldjaeger find them. Those Fepo bastards were too damned eager to string up anybody caught going in a direction other than the fighting. (more…)

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Bob. I expect that you’re rather busy- it’s Hell on Earth here… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t mock you. You know all the mysteries. I- I’m just a man. Mortal, fallible, afraid… sick to death for me and mine. They’re all I have, Lord. Watch over us and protect us. Amen.”

-Bob, Zombie Hunter (more…)

Hungry. There’s nothing to eat but us, and Zeke already knows that.

We got caught by a herd. Don’t know how or why, but lately the zombies have started to congregate, to gather and move in schools like fish, or flocks of birds. Emergent phenomena, Doc Black says. He was a biologist of some kind, before. (more…)

Tina knew when her sister first picked up the infection. Tammy tried her best to hide the bite, but it was no use. Somehow, Tina knew. She always knew. There was a strong connection between the pair, a bond that neither could explain. Once, when they were twelve, Tammy took a face full of softball, but it was Tina’s nose that bled, flowing like a hose before they finally plugged it. The doctors called it an unusual case of sympathetic pains, while managing to ignore the fact that Tina was indoors during a history class while Tammy was outdoors during PE. The twins didn’t need a fancy explanation, nor did they want one. They had lived with the phenomenon their whole lives. Knowing what the other felt or thought or craved was as natural as breathing. (more…)

Hey there Mister, are you alright?

I heard you screamin’ in your sleep last night.

‘Round three past thirty after three.

What was it you said in last night’s keep?

“I’m going to the slaughter along with the sheep,

a wolf wrapped in wool has just as much meat.”

Virginia laid out the last pieces of her fine china and stepped back to critique the table setting. The wildflower centerpiece of yellow bells, Black-eyed Susans, yellow gold Lantanas, baby’s breath and day lilies caught the dappled sunlight streaming through a large pine oak next door and seemed to glow. Virginia reused the baby’s breath and day lilies from an arrangement she made in the spring. They were desiccated but still held their color. The rest were fresh, collected only moments ago. Her placemats were squared: forks on the left, knives on the right, dessert fork and spoon at the top, butter knife across the side plate, teacup handles to the right. Everything was perfect, just like the tea parties she attended when Eldon was stationed in London during the war. Her grandmother’s tablecloth hid the wrought iron patio table well enough, and the thin gold lacing stitched throughout accented the centerpiece wonderfully. Eat your heart out Martha! (more…)

Greetings Ghoul Destroyers,

Reviews are nearing completion, but be ready for an avalanche of stories over the next 48 hours. With Halloween fast approaching, it seems only right to inundate you with undead-related fiction. And to start things off, here is a treat from the video files.

-ed.

The sunlight woke him.  The tiny cabin was already warming up and his body was sticky with sweat from the night’s sleep.  It couldn’t be more than late April, he thought, perhaps early may.  “I’ll have to start sleeping up top soon” he muttered to himself as he glanced out the small window and took in the wide blue vista.  “No choice about it, too hot to sleep down here.  Can’t sleep, can’t think.  Can’t think, then I start making mistakes… It’s no good”.  He knew he wouldn’t get much sleep on the deck either though.  At least in the cabin he felt protected, not naked under the stars, his body exposed and vulnerable.  Just irrational fear he told himself; ‘Nightmares or not, it would soon be high summer and there would be no choice.’ (more…)

To the writers and readers of TOWWZ,

By now you may be aware of the ‘Oxford Incident’. It has been reported on the BBC, Daily Mail, and Guardian websites as having been a group of disaffected students “going postal” in the Summertown area of Oxford after a night of mephedrone and cheap supermarket alcohol. (more…)