Welcome to my 7th (and final) May Monster Madness post. (and for those who are celebrating the small things, I’ve been celebrating Monsters all week, so dive right in and check out the posts!
- MAY MONSTER MADNESS 6: BLOOD FAMILY BY MARK KNIGHT: EXCERPT / INFO.
- MAY MONSTER MADNESS 5: THE BEST EVER VAMPIRES (AND THEIR HUNTERS) – 2 POLLS
- MAY MONSTER MADNESS 4: MY FAVOURITE MONSTER & TEN REASONS WHY.
- MAY MONSTER MADNESS 3: BLOOD RUSH PRE-RELEASE TOUR
- MAY MONSTER MADNESS 2: TWO STAGES OF FEAR & WHY DO WE LOVE MONSTERS?
- May Monster Madness 1: The Psychology of Fear (The Five Basic Fears)
All seven of them, if you’re feeling so inclined. Today is the last one, so I’m offering a giveaway! Read on…
Please see the previous posts (linked in Previous Posts the side bar) for the psychology of fear, why I love vampires best of all, and many more. And please go click on your favourite vampires, and your favourite vampires hunter polls, so I can gather up those votes and write a post about the chart toppers! I’ll be writing that post in the next few days, and it will be a bonus post for this meme, 21st May: Yey!
I’m also offering my short story – The Dead Party: A Dark Yet Humorous Tale – to four of your lucky monster lovers. It’s a political satire (set in UK) with zombies 🙂
It’s giveaway time! So, do you love zombies? Great, because I wrote this short story (available from Amazon) and thought I’d offer it as the finale giveaway! 🙂 I have PDF or Mobi copies available.
RULES: Tell me your favourite zombie movie and why, and don’t forget to leave your contact details and file preference. 🙂
Imagine the United Kingdom, after an election, where the party of choice – the party in charge of the people – are The Dead Party.
This is a short story length (5k), political satire, exploring an island ruled by zombies, a massive recruitment initiative, a whole lot of rot… oh, and one incredibly sly cat!
Hugged by a cloak of darkness, I could still see for miles. The night sky lit up by a golden glow of fires blazing across the country, beneath clouds of toxic smoke. Where fires had died, mounds of a blackened tar-like substance sat cooling. It had become eerily quiet of late, though it used to be so vibrant. It was all such an awful waste; cars burned out, houses deserted – the smell of rotting or cooking flesh and piss, everywhere. It made me miserable, nauseous and livid.
Sitting on the roof-top of the former Mrs Whelms – a consultant of some sort, no less, I searched out the vile Dead, who in their armies swiftly took control of our district one month ago. Everything’s changed. They now have complete control over our whole island, but not me. Not yet. Not ever.
Strange to concede that 90% of my previously living comrades supposedly voted for the Dead Party to govern what is now called, District 6. Even the Green Party would have seemed like a better option in the absence of our Conservative, Liberal Democrat and Labour Councillor, who all bizarrely disappeared only one week before voting began. Still haven’t turned up. No doubt they found out what was to become of us and fled. Or they were supper, and still adhere to The Dead’s Party’s rotting stomach lining.
“The democratic process has proved a positive one,” the Dead Party had said. Of course, the living demanded a re-count, but it wasn’t allowed as with all investigations into their dubious habits: “It’s Political Correctness’ gone mad,” people cried. Others looked down on them, trained to do so. Besides, there was never enough proof of fixing the vote to use against them, and without evidence there was nothing to investigate.
With power came numbers. They popped up everywhere, or should I say slithered and shuffled? Their pong began to loiter generally, even in cafes and restaurants. How rude? We could no longer enjoy a bag of chips without their death hanging around, polluting our noses. I lost my appetite right around then.
Their yellow eyes – encircled with red rims – are the worst. Man they’re ugly, especially when they weep a pus-like substance, like septic tears down rotting cheeks. I noticed this delight occurred more when they became hungry. And the Dead were usually either angry or hungry, so there’s a lot of pus. I felt sickened just thinking of it… seeping out. And yet the Dead seem oblivious to their putrid condition, as though they had forgotten all about vanity along with breathing and the sanctity of life.
Take a shower – used soap – brush what’s left of those browning teeth, for Heaven’s sake. Hello?
How did it come to this? I have no clue, quite simply. I fell asleep one evening after a movie I cannot now recall – as one does – and when I woke up it was all over the news: “The Dead rise again!” I had to ask myself, ‘When did they rise the first time?’ I thought it to be some stunt by a flagging media mogul, or a clever ruse by some bored saddo, sitting alone on his computer with a techie brain and too much time on his hands. Ah, in fact my very first thoughts were that it must be the residue of a nightmare, not fully shaken off.
I read about the election in a discarded tabloid. But who believes anything in them anymore?
Sadly, as the day moved on and more news came in, it became clear that The Dead were indeed walking around my country, my town, and pretty soon after that, in my street.
Hey, who says monster stories can’t come along with a little humour? So, do you like it? Want to win one of five copies? Get your comments in and I’ll get in touch! 🙂 So what are you celebrating this week?