Yeah you got me, too fucking busy playing Fallout 4 to do a proper blog so I just copied and pasted a chapter from my zombie novel, but come on, this game is like fucking crack, it’s better than just completely dropping off the grid like Jessie Ventura.

“I despise your killing, and raping”
“You’re… despicable”

“Are you, my judge?”

“It’s just… you should be punished”
“I’m going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?”

TJ sat on his bed half watching a kung fu movie he had on in the background, trying to learn kung fu from osmosis. He polished his sword, checking for minor imperfections left by the douche in the knife shop, before wiping it off. He lovingly slid it back in the sheathe placing it gently in a red trunk at the bottom of his bed.

TJ’s bedroom was the standard unashamed man-child room every man secretly desired but had taken away from them at some point by age or shame or usually a woman. TJ seemed immune to all; happy to like the things he’d loved all his life with only a slight sour tinge of regret rolling around on his tongue before he swallowed it down with some mountain dew.

His room was a fairly boxy affair in a reasonably sized two story house. He chose the room when he was a kid because it had one of those cool sloping roofs that had what was like a little skylight window that let in all the moonlight. And he could put posters on it too.

Movie and anime posters adorned the walls in no particular order from Dragonball z pride of place above his tv and ps4 to Cowboy Bebop over his bed the one where Faye Valentine had her ass facing out in those little yellow hot pants. Full Metal Alchemist brotherhood, Samurai Champloo and Attack on Titan and Berserk, his door hiding a slightly cute pink Elfen Lied calendar that was way out of date. He had a really cool Gantz wall hanging on the wall behind his desktop monitor that his mother sneered at, the tight black uniforms she thought looked sort of ‘bondagey’ she commented once. To which TJ, reddened of cheek quickly informed her that it wasn’t the case and it was his room and she should always knock before entering.

Then you had the various zombie related paraphernalia; you had your walking dead shirts and cap, Evil dead bobble heads, which made various chainsaw noises and spouted the relevant catchphrases when tapped. Original Night of the living dead and Dawn of the dead posters both signed by the Tom Savini, a return of the living dead tarman ‘action figure’, return of the living dead 3 playing cards, Shaun of the dead airfreshener, zombies on a plane travel sweets… you get the picture; ‘nerd likes zombies trope’.

His real pride and joy lay dormant in the red trunk, an assorted collection of crappy fantasy knives and cheap knock off kung fu weapons he picked up at various flea markets and gun shows that rolled through town. He didn’t really get much of an allowance to splash out on any one piece, or even a reasonably priced but painfully drab cold steel machete. And the thought of working some nine to five job just seemed antithetical in a world that he believed would be all teeth and rotten flesh by the end of the year.

So he just picked up what he liked the look of, not really knowing what he wanted or what he wanted them for. They were all basically tacky wall hangers, despite that his mother wouldn’t let him hang on his wall because they made him look like a ‘weirdo’. There they remained in that box or under his bed, ready to be viewed with a satisfied smile as soon as he looked inside his little man-crate full of toys. When he closed it he felt a little hollow thud inside and instantly felt maudlin, he stared at the bluing sky as night crawled out of the caves and crags to blanket the sky.

TJ’s house was in a fairly secluded part of town. The town itself was rural and mountainous, a small town lined by high trees and cliffs with a whole lot of nothing in between, think Twin Peaks meets Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Nightmarish small town America in all its horrible banality and tremulous quiet beauty only ruined by its noisy stereotypical inhabitants.

He took to starring off into the trees, trying to imagine hordes of his dead facebook friends tearing through the undergrowth and him savagely cutting after them, sword flashing above his head like a hun on heat. Then he really started to think about them, their frozen stock photo faces, twisted and rotten coming at him through the trees and it was real for a second and he wanted nothing more than to buy a big gun and hide under his window drinking and peeing in the same bottle waterworld style for fear of moving. It came in waves and he settled back into his fantasy comfortable in the thought of its unlikely occurrence but also wanting nothing more than having his mundane existence upended by throngs of the flesh nibbling inclined.

Well what little life there was, he thought to himself as he stared off into those dark esoteric woods, if only they’d come then he could be who he truly wanted to be.


As always you can find the full chapter on inkitt by following this link

Thanks for checking it out.