Tag Archives: death

Since I liked doing the last post so much…


Five Card Story: i caused it

a ds106 story created by Tempest (Erin)


flickr photo by les.epinards


flickr photo by paulhami


flickr photo by ravnclaw89


flickr photo by ravnclaw89


flickr photo by Intrepid Flame

i did this. i am a monster. no better than the things i set loose

oh god, oh god, they’re in the stairwell. i can hear their nails scrabbling against the concrete and wood. it sounds like death.

di water. electrical current, something of alchemy, something of chemistry. we weren’t exactly sure what we were doing, but it was important. more important than any of us. not carol, who had discovered the cure for cancer, not damien, who had gone to the middle east and helped people. they were good, [procreating] good people.

i am going to vomit. there’s no hell horrible enough for a [procreator] like me.

we had safety measures. we had containment units within containment units. and those were surrounded by yet more barriers and blockades. we had nothing but the best in mind. alarms seemed unnecessary. the military was only marginally interested. they were the contingency plan. none of this was supposed to happen.

the spooks warned us to leave off, of course. they have a [procreating] sixth sense about these things. we continued on. it was going to be our holy grail, our masterpiece. magnum opus.

i wasn’t there when the thing happened. i was busy watching the latest crichton movie. i was going to ask this chick on a second date (that’s what i told myself).

it never happened. the high alarm sounded and i hightailed it out of there. i knew what it meant, even if i didn’t actively admit it to myself or anyone else. i left them behind and holed myself up in the tallest building i could find.

from there, i saw everything. the mass murder when it started, the exodus of survivors to the docks, which was only more murder when they found that they were out there too, in torpor. waiting. waiting. oh, god. they’re waiting for me too. i’m running out of food.

i have a camera. ihave a [procreating] camera with high zoom. i can see the deaths of others from afar, but this new perspective is not a comfort.

they’re coming. all i can think of is that i should have asked that chick on a second date. even if the world ended in the next minute, at least i would have had that hope. am i the last one left? alive, i mean?

they’re through the door

they are coming they are coming


Five Card Story


Five Card Story: we were warned

a ds106 story created by Tempest (Erin)


flickr photo by paulhami


flickr photo by cogdogblog


flickr photo by cogdogblog


flickr photo by ravnclaw89


flickr photo by ravnclaw89

they told us that this would happen. hints in movies, in comic books, in popular culture… they let us know what was coming and we laughed it off. that which was to serve as warning became jejune, banal, ignored.

we went on with our lives, working, eating, sleeping, [procreating], ants on a [procreating] hill, hauling our [bottoms] out of bed at the crack of dawn while we hurtled towards a future we would have laughed at.

the scientists were busy, the leaders too. they had contingency plans for everything. we had entered the safest [procreating] era the world had ever seen.

nobody was happy, but god[expletive] we were safe.

scientists and leaders, they had alarms for everything. alarms to tell us when we were to be disinfected, alarms to tell us when to get on the trains, alarms to get out of buildings, into buildings, to warn us of threats to our mental and physical health.

and the high alarm. no real purpose existed for it when it was built. kids called it, you’ll get a real kick outta this, kids called it the “get on your knees and find god” alarm.
goycafy. y means yahweh, if you were wondering, since goycafg is a [female dog] to say.

one day the alarm went off. trucks of all kinds rumbled past my door. the wife and kids prayed.

i didn’t.

i followed the trucks until i heard the gurgling of millions of throats. i couldn’t go further. i ran, ran back to my house like a mother[procreating] coward. we latched the gate, bolted the door, closed the shutters, did everything we could.

we could keep them out, but we had locked ourselves in. three weeks in and martha could not stand it. she was the first to give in to the cabin fever. she would stand over the stove, looking at the wood we’d taken from the kitchen table to blockade the windows as though she could see right through it. she liked to sing, you know, before the goycafy.

now she muttered. i listened to her for a little bit, but i could feel her words wind like little worms into my chest.

i couldn’t think like that. it wasn’t fair to the kids.

i woke up on a tuesday (i think) and she wasn’t in bed.

she’d gone out to meet them. i heard movement downstairs.

it was by the grace of some higher power (or maybe a continued cruelty) that we survived. not a bite amongst us. we eluded those [illegitimate boy children].

decision to be made. house compromised, we stole through field and out to the docks. we’re heading to the ocean.

only chance now. corpses don’t move over water, i hear.