Brains and Blood, Fragment the First
I've never been one to oppose the popular will or stand up to peer pressure, as my friends will tell you. When everyone else was jumping off a bridge, you'd better believe I jumped too. And not in that wussy Lost Boys oh-it's-okay-we-can-fly way, neither.
So when people tell me to write a story about vampires and zombies, who am I to argue? I'm doing it in prose, though; it's faster, and lets me serialize it in little bits and fragments, rather than disappearing for months and showing up with a random 120 pages of love, laughs, and assorted undead. This first bit is just a little trailer; more will be forthcoming.
If you don't like it, take it up with everyone who requested it.
A single drop of blood. Thrown from Von Kurten’s blade as it stuttered through three necks at once, it arced high in the air, a tiny free-falling sphere, rotten maroon in color. Higher and higher it flew, invisible against the black sky, above even the ancient and indestructible parapets of the last castle. Finally, gravity overtook the force of Von Kurten’s formidable followthrough, and the droplet started falling back to earth.
By now over the narrow, immaculately scrubbed courtyard, the droplet completed its parabolic journey by tapping gently and finally against the forearm of Richard, returning on shaky legs from his twice-weekly drawing. Richard had no last name, of course; surnames were more trouble than they were worth when it came to humans. They tended to encourage familial groupings and a redundant sense of identity. Each human having one unique name ensured they were all separate individuals and discouraged any larger sense of identity. The system had evolved to its present state through a great deal of trial and error, a ruthless best-practices regime that the lords hated almost as much as the humans, but it worked.
Richard wiped absently at his arm, vaguely thinking that it might be starting to rain. The droplet became a smear, a tapering trail like an exclamation point, ending at the still-sore puncture in Richard’s forearm. It was a small smear, and a smaller break in his pale skin, but of course both were still much, much larger than a virus.
So when people tell me to write a story about vampires and zombies, who am I to argue? I'm doing it in prose, though; it's faster, and lets me serialize it in little bits and fragments, rather than disappearing for months and showing up with a random 120 pages of love, laughs, and assorted undead. This first bit is just a little trailer; more will be forthcoming.
If you don't like it, take it up with everyone who requested it.
A single drop of blood. Thrown from Von Kurten’s blade as it stuttered through three necks at once, it arced high in the air, a tiny free-falling sphere, rotten maroon in color. Higher and higher it flew, invisible against the black sky, above even the ancient and indestructible parapets of the last castle. Finally, gravity overtook the force of Von Kurten’s formidable followthrough, and the droplet started falling back to earth.
By now over the narrow, immaculately scrubbed courtyard, the droplet completed its parabolic journey by tapping gently and finally against the forearm of Richard, returning on shaky legs from his twice-weekly drawing. Richard had no last name, of course; surnames were more trouble than they were worth when it came to humans. They tended to encourage familial groupings and a redundant sense of identity. Each human having one unique name ensured they were all separate individuals and discouraged any larger sense of identity. The system had evolved to its present state through a great deal of trial and error, a ruthless best-practices regime that the lords hated almost as much as the humans, but it worked.
Richard wiped absently at his arm, vaguely thinking that it might be starting to rain. The droplet became a smear, a tapering trail like an exclamation point, ending at the still-sore puncture in Richard’s forearm. It was a small smear, and a smaller break in his pale skin, but of course both were still much, much larger than a virus.
Labels: Brains and Blood, prose
Ooooo....i cant wait...he will be ZOMBIEFIED!
(or will he?)
sorry for sounding weird- i was linked over from The Smart Bitches we all LURRRV, and am hooked.
Posted by
Anonymous |
4:37 PM
Very NICE start! Thank the Smart Bitches for sending me over here. What a fantabulous book idea!
Posted by
Dawn |
6:09 PM