Tag: horror

Wake

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Jimmy O’Connor planned this from the get-go. Long before the oncologist said “Tough shit.”
For his wake, he programmed up a hologram of himself.
Sure, other terminally ill hackers had programmed 2D movies and played them at their funerals, but Jimmy was the first to render a fully-operational, interactive ghost.
He was also the first to sync one with bio-implants too.
So, right in the middle of the wake, Jimmy’s ghost points at himself and screams “ZOMBIE!”
The servos kick in. Jimmy’s corpse slowly rises.
POW! I blow Jimmy’s head off with my .45.
That’s how you handle zombies, right?

The Last Drop

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When Charlie retired from the waterworks, they gave him a gold-plated watch and a cardboard box to put his stuff in.
He took everything home but a large half-empty bottle of poison, which he left in the middle of his desk.
Charlie had started every day with a fresh cup of coffee, walking to the Filtration Pump Room, and putting a drop of poison in the city’s water supply.
He figured it would toughen people up a bit in these difficult times.
Charlie also dumped his coffee into the city’s water supply, but that’s because the coffee was so bad.

Choose Your Death

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The catalog makes it very simple.
Every page has a different kind of death on it, a full-color photograph in all its grisly wonder.
I looked cold and hard at the page featuring the carbomb, but it was just a little too messy for my taste.
Plus, I kinda liked Steve’s car. Was hoping to buy it after… he bought it.
Then I saw the death I wanted: electrocution.
Their number was busy, so I went to the website… entered the data… and…
Transaction completed.
Wait… hold on…
Did I get the billing and shipping addresses mixed up?
Uh oh.

Those Lousy Bums

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These days, the Doomsayers write their Armageddon spells on pieces of cardboard and wave them around in crowds, foaming at the mouth.
Back in the day, they’d glue their signs to wooden sticks or make up one of those… what were they?
Sandwich boards! That’s it!
The end of the world is coming, and these crazy bastards know it.
After all, it’s their job to cause it.
They gather at night, light their campfires, and chant in unison in praise of The Great Destroyer.
When I find them, I roust them out.
I have yet to miss a gathering.
Yet.

Zombie Garden

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You think of this place as a cemetery, but I think of it as a zombie garden.
See this bottle?
Let’s just say that this potion is the zombie equivalent of Miracle Gro.
I just pour it over the grave, wave my hand around, chant for a few seconds, and I’ve got a brand new zombie.
Well, not exactly brand new. Depending how old the corpse is, there’s the problem of rot and decay.
There’s another problem with this garden. The fruits of my labor don’t grow out of the ground by themselves.
Speaking of which, pass me the shovel.

Phantom Pain

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As a kid, I compulsively bit my fingernails.
I chewed them ragged and bloody.
Nothing could get me to stop.
After years of suffering, I finally went to a hypnotist.
He convinced me that they weren’t there to bite.
It worked.
On the way home, I was walking through Sears when I noticed the Craftsman display.
I mounted a blade into a circular saw and plugged it in.
The first finger was the hardest to cut off.
The rest were much, much easier.
They call it phantom pain. I still feel them there.
But I don’t want to bite them.

The Blair Frisky Project

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I used to be able to walk around, playing with toys.
Then, a long time ago, this other orange cat showed up.
At first, he left me alone. He’d play with his toys, picking them up and walking around, howling.
Then, once day, when I was running to the litterbox, he chased me.
I swatted him good, but he didn’t give up.
The big fat grumpus who would protect me went away.
Then the little kittycat who’d beat up the big bully went away, too.
Now it’s just me and him…
Wait.
I can hear him.
Is… Is it safe?

Volunteered

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Let’s not bullshit.
My kid needs your heart. Soon. We’re not sure how long he can hold on.
We’re not sure how long you can hold on, either.
Doctor says that you signed your organ donor card and didn’t want to be kept on life support, but your family trumped your wishes.
I’ve offered them money. They won’t take it.
Do I need to kill them, or just one to set an example and make them sign the forms?
I wish we could have met under better circumstances.
But for my kid’s sake, I’m still glad I ran you over.

Revenge Nog

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Edwin clutched his chest, wheezing what might have been words.
Iris wasn’t listening. She was just watching him, waiting for him to die.
He saw her emptying his pill case into the toilet, and his eyes went from surprise to anger.
For a moment, Iris considered calling 911.
She rubbed her arm where he’d last burned her, and decided to wait just a little longer.
Edwin had just enough fight left in him to get up from the chair and lunge at her.
She stepped back.
Some plastic surgery for the scars.
Yeah, that would be her gift to herself.

Airport 2006

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We’re still not sure why, but the investigation concluded that the airport manager secretly replaced the supply of de-icing agent at Jefferson County Airport with Folger’s Crystals.
It didn’t take long to find out what would happen. Two executive jets froze up and crashed, and a third barely managed to get back on the ground.
The airport manager stuck a microphone in the pilot’s face. “Did you know that I substituted your de-icing agent with Folger’s Instant Crystals? Could you tell the difference?”
He’s in an insane asylum now, receiving plenty of medication.
And no instant coffee whatsoever, thank goodness.