Fantasy Drabble #166 “The Devil’s Due”

He was standing at the rim of a seemingly bottomless glowing pit, still wearing the space suit, which was was charred all over and ripped in several places. The helmet had a huge hole right through the faceplate.

“What happened?”

“You tried to escape your deal with the Boss by leaving Earth. One of the booster rockets exploded; hardly ever happens anymore. I got lucky,” the demon explained.

“Listen, I…”

“Explain it to him.” The demon grinned and pointed a gnarled claw at the glowing pit. “Oh, and he really likes begging. And crying. Be sure to cry a lot.”

SF Drabble #232 “Flightless”

Day 76. They’ve finally accepted me as one of their own. They’re aware that I’m different… two males dug a separate trough down the other side of the hill for me to use as a latrine, and the hunting party has been bringing back those yellow gourds they’ve seen me eating. And the little ones, the children, no longer avoid me. I have one in my lap now, cooing quietly and flapping it’s little wings.

I have yet to see them build a fire, though there is evidence they’ve used fire previously. Probably they’re at the ‘nurturing found fire’ stage.

Zombie Drabble #251 “Orville P. Redburn”

Orville’s hardcore. Always has been, even before the end of the world. He hit a deer once out on route three, got out of the truck, finished the poor stricken animal off with his .32, tossed the carcass in the bed and then continued on to church.

So, when the little five-year-old zombie came stumbling down the road, I wasn’t surprised when Orville didn’t think twice about putting it down. Marion was pretty upset, though, bless her. “How can you do that so easy? That was somebody’s baby.”

“This ain’t fishing,” Orville said. “We don’t throw the little ones back.”

Fantasy Drabble #165 “Houseguests”

We don’t go that far into the woods, normally, but we had a bottle of wine and I was pretty sure Jenny was gonna let me get some under-the-sweater action for once, so I didn’t want any interruptions.

I didn’t even know that house was there. There’s no roads back in there, no power lines. It was all boarded up, too. But I thought there might be a bed, so I pried a board loose…

All I saw were eyes, at least five pair of them, all blood red. And the growls… we didn’t stop running until we hit road.

Zombie Drabble #250 “Dead On Their Feet”

“Shit yeah, Franklin,” Bobby exclaimed.

“Money,” added Andy Jr.

The zombie teetered for a moment, and then finally dropped. They don’t go down like ragdolls, it takes a second for the body to realize the brain — and the virus controlling it — has been destroyed. The boys came up with this game within hours of this whole thing starting: you try to shoot them so they’ll stay up as long as possible, balanced on legs stiffened by rigor mortis.

“It’s all about timing,” Franklin explained. He once killed one who stayed up permanently, never fell. Or so he claims.

Zombie Drabble #249 “Growing Up”

A week ago, breaking up with my high school boyfriend was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Especially since he’d pressured me for sex and I kind of gave in a couple times and then got pregnant and had to have a secret abortion which he paid for with his summer job savings.

As of today, though, I’ve shot eight zombies in the head, burned about a dozen, smashed three storefronts to loot supplies, stolen a van, and left my ex behind because I knew he’d been bitten and was lying about it. So what I’m saying is, everything’s relative.

Zombie Drabble #248 “Let Us Pray”

We had just gotten out of church, kids in the back of the van, on the way to IHOP like always. Sunday, like any other Sunday. The guy came out of nowhere. I slammed on the brakes but it was too late: he bounced off the front, slid and then rolled maybe twenty feet.

Nancy’s a nurse, so she got out to help. She got over to him and knelt down, but then looked back at me with the weirdest expression on her face, said “Jim, this guy looks like he’s been dead for days!”

That’s when he bit her.

SF Drabble #231 “I’m You, Just Older”

“Who’s on the phone?”

“Me.”

“No, I mean, who are you talking to?”

“Me. It’s me from the future.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious. Apparently I’m calling to warn myself about something. Hold on, I’m still talking.”

“You know, I don’t find this amusing. I’m trying to talk to y—.”

“Okay, apparently there’s a plane that’s going to crash in a few minutes and it’s going to take the whole front of the house off. So you should probably stay back here in the bedroom with me.”

“You’re a pig.”

“It’s for your own safety. Both of me agree it’s best.”

Fantasy Drabble #164 “Deliver Us From Evil”

“Come, Yahgon; up the hill.”

His half-giant porter ambled behind him as they wound their way towards the top, where the temple waited. Eventually he asked, “Why go to temple?”

“Well, Yahgon, we must pay our homage to Pē. Otherwise our journey might not be pleasant and easy.”

“Your god help us on long trip?”

“Yes, Yahgon. Pē will help us. He husbands travelers like us.”

“That good. Help good for long trip. Your god can do anything?”

“He wouldn’t be much of a god if he couldn’t!”

“Ask for many bandits for Yahgon to smash. More fun for Yahgon.”

Zombie Drabble #247 “Decisions”

Rocky stood, shotgun cradled in his arms, next to the stop sign at the bottom of the hill. He should probably get going soon, but he couldn’t decide which way to go.

Going left would be towards Cassie’s house, and going left would be towards Jen’s work. He couldn’t rescue both of them, take them both with him into the hills. That just wouldn’t fly. They’d tear each other’s hair out, zombies or no.

Which one? He had more of a connection with Jen, but Cassie was a firecracker in the sack. Cassie hated camping, though. Probably, Jen, then. Yeah.

SF Drabble #230 “Undetectable Microbes”

Dr. Shimoda was an excellent biologist. He ran all the right tests, and he ran then competently. We have all his notes and the labeled specimens and the cultures and everything.

When he cleared the Vegan Bluepig for human consumption, we all got together for a roast, you know: get everyone together, blow off some steam. It was three days before people started dying. We’ve lost a third of the colony, looks like it’ll end up being half.

It wasn’t his fault, but there was no talking to Shimoda; he hung himself from the roof supports in the Temp Lab.

SF Drabble #229 “Interrogation”

“Talk.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You have one chance here, and that’s to tell us everything that happened. The truth. We can’t help you if you don’t talk to us.”

“…okay.”

“Start with the dead girl. Who is she?”

“It doesn’t start with the dead girl. It starts with the aliens.”

“The… listen, asshole, I’m not fucking around here. You’re looking at a charge of Premeditated Murder here. This is serious.”

“I understand you perfectly. I’m going to tell you the truth, and it starts with the aliens. And you’re not going to like it.”