Zombie Apocalypse Teams

More zombie apocalypse teams from our creepy kids!

Ben Turner

Team Leader: Owen [Jurassic World]

Brawler: Sully [Monsters, Inc.]

Weapons Expert: The Queen

Brains: Zane [Ninjago]

Medic: The Doctor

Scientist: Professor Utonium [Powerpuff Girls]

Get-away Driver: Nicole Watterson [The Amazing World of Gumball] 

First Blood: Top Cat  

Mascot: Yoshi [Super Mario] 

Alex Turner

Team Leader: Ant-Man

Brawler: Princess Fiona [Shrek] 

Weapons Expert: Black Widow 

Brains: Klaus Baudelaire [A Series of Unfortunate Events] 

Medic: Lynn Denlon [Saw 3]

Scientist: Princess Bubblegum [Adventure Time]

Get-away Driver: Ernie Prang [Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban]

First Blood: Peter Griffin [Family Guy]

Mascot: Santa’s Little Helper [The Simpsons] 

TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #6

Create your zombie apocalypse team. 

Note: I’ve cheated and done the task for day 7 before 6, but I produced nothing worthy of being published for the latter so I’m taking a little more time on it. Since I’m late with this one as it is, I will hopefully be publishing the poem today as well. Also, this is a poor example of a ‘writing’ challenge – apologies. 

Tell me your zombie apocalypse teams!

Team Leader: Buffy Summers [Buffy The Vampire Slayer]

Brawler: Dean Winchester [Supernatural]

Weapons Expert: Harry Hart [Kingsman: The Secret Service]

Brains: The Doctor [Doctor Who]

Medic: Leonard McCoy [Star Trek]

Scientist: Dr. Emmett Brown [Back To The Future]

Get-away Driver: Ed [Shaun Of The Dead]

First Blood: Sean Bean [actor]

Mascot: Sparky [Frankenweenie]

TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #5

Take a handful of your favourite horror villains and put them in a room together.

Note: I really wasn’t sure how to tackle this one so I’ve done it as ‘a handful of horror villains that I would like to see in a room together’.  – Tyler

Chosen villains:

Kurt Barlow – ‘Salem’s Lot 

Kurt Barlow is the master vampire in Stephen King’s 1975 novel ‘Salem’s Lot.  He takes up residence in Jerusalem’s Lot, Maine with his human familiar, Richard Straker. Together, they take on the guise of antique dealers and terrorise the townsfolk. It is suggested that Barlow was once an Austrian nobleman, and he claims to be so old that he predates the founding of Christianity by centuries.

Count Dracula – Dracula 

Undoubtedly one of the most iconic vampiric creations, Count Dracula rose from the mind of Bram Stoker in 1897. Similarly to Kurt Barlow, Dracula is a Transylvanian nobleman who is also centuries old. It is thought that his creation was based on Vlad the Impaler (the prince of Wallachia), whose cruel reputation and notoriety for impaling his enemies is said to have inspired the character.

Count Von Krolock – The Fearless Vampire Killers, or Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are In My Neck

Count Von Krolock – a nobleman yet again – is the main antagonist of Roman Polanski’s 1967 film The Fearless Vampire Killers. An obvious parody of Dracula, Von Krolock leads a lonely life, with his only company being his son, Herbert and his servant, Koukol. He steals away a young girl (Sarah, portrayed by Sharon Tate)  with the intent of turning her at the annual dance of the vampires, but finds his plans compromised by the eccentric professor Abronsius and his assistant, Alfred.

David – The Lost Boys

David is a secondary antagonist in Joel Schumacher’s 1987 film The Lost Boys. He is mistakenly believed to be the head vampire of Santa Carla, but while this is not the case, he is the focal figure in the vampiric motorcycle gang that terrorises the town. Little is known of the character’s backstory, but some fan theories suggest that he may have been around since 1906, which is when a hotel caved in at the sea cave known as Hudson’s Bluff, providing the gang with their lair.

 

TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #4

Choose a friend or family member and create a dark, disturbing backstory for them.

Alex Turner – Sister

NOTE: Not the best thing I’ve ever produced but it’s all good practice. Everything except the first two sentences of the opening paragraph is entirely fictional. Alex is 100% human… I think…

-Tyler

Alex Turner is a bright and mature schoolgirl whose intelligence goes above and beyond that of the average eleven-year-old. She is a fiercely devoted friend and family member who puts the safety of those she loves before all else. She is very cautious of those outside of her close circle, and has good reason to be, for Alex has seen what lurks in the dark corners of a person’s soul…

Alex’s life is relatively normal, but that hasn’t always been the case. Before she settled in the sleepy English ex-mining village that came to be her home, Alex had spent most of her days slaying demons.

 

 

Half demon herself, Alex never had any trouble sniffing out her prey. Her mother and mentor – a paranormal investigator – took her along on every case, using her to detect dark entities and exorcise them from the places they infested.

When she was just eight, Alex’s mother was killed, not slaying demons but, rather ironically, in a hit and run accident. The death of her mother unlocked within her a deep repressed repulsion towards humanity. She realised that the worst kinds of demons were the metaphorical ones that possessed the hearts of humans such as the one who had stolen her mother’s life.

For the next year of her life, Alex was shipped from care home to care home. No one would keep her long, since at every place she stayed, an inhabitant of the home would die horrifically within the first twenty-four hours of her arrival. In the first home she was sent to, Alex had witnessed a child physically beating one of the smaller children when the carers were occupied elsewhere. The next day, the older child was found hanging from an outdoor swing set with a noose fashioned from his own intestines.

Alex’s distaste for humanity began to soften when she was taken in by her current carers. They taught her that although everyone has the power to project the darkness within them, the light inside some people is bright enough to extinguish the desire to do so.

Alex settled into her new home, new school and new life shortly after her eleventh birthday. Although her slaying days are now behind her, she still discreetly searches the eyes of those she passes in the corridor, looking for the shadows cast by the light.

TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #3

Genre bending #2 – choose a well-known horror story and give it a new genre.

Wes Craven’s Scream

NOTE: This is very much the same case as yesterday since I am no way near finished with this, but I will publish the completed thing once I’ve had the chance to polish it off. It’s a little rushed, but I hope you enjoy my little slice of e-scream-pionage nonetheless. 

“Welcome to Woodsboro.”

Randy Meeks observed his audience as he smoothed the coarse hair of his goatee using his thumb and index finger. They were a gang of misfits, comprised of a doe-eyed teenage schoolgirl, a sharp-tongued ex-journalist, and bumbling moustached man with a past in the police force. He wondered to himself what it was that had attracted the nominating committee to them. Whatever it was, it must have been something special for them to have gotten even this far.

“Before you commit yourselves to Woodsboro, you need to know that there are certain rules that one must abide by in order to make it through the training programme.” He held up three fingers in demonstration. “Number one: you must abstain from sexual activities. Number two: you must abstain from drink and drugs. And number three: you must give yourself entirely to the Woodsboro Secret Service. Once you have done so, there will be no walk-outs or hiatuses, no ‘I’ll-be-right-backs'” He paused to study their stony faces for any flicker of trepidation and found that there were none. “If anyone wishes to leave, do so now, otherwise, you are bound to hold your tongue ’til death.”

No one so much as breathed.

***

Back in the trainees’ dorm, Sydney Prescott was reading over the letter she had just penned to her father back in California. The handwriting was rushed and spidery, almost indecipherable. She had barely had a second to blink since arriving at Westboro, never mind compose a coherent letter.

She was about to shove it under her pillow and finally get some rest when a slim manicured hand snatched the paper away from her.

“What the hell is this?” Gale  Weathers demanded, without bothering to scan the contents for herself. “They would kill us all if they found out one of us was slipping information to people on the outside. I gave up my camera for the programme and you can’t even refrain from spilling your guts out on paper for our sake.”

“Take it easy, Gale.” Dewey Riley was perched on the end of his bed at the other side of the small, clinical room, rubbing his hands together nervously as he spoke. “Letters to family members aren’t forbidden. They censor them anyway. Lets not turn on each other so early in the game.”

Gale exhaled deeply through her nose then reluctantly handed the letter back to Sidney. It was obvious that she had a soft spot for the ex-deputy. Had it have been anyone else who had dared to confront her, they might have lost their head.

Taking the letter from Gale, Sydney was preparing to dish her out a piece of her own mind but was interrupted by the sudden absence of light. Feeling her heart rate quicken, she felt blindly around her bedside table in the dark. Her fingertips met with a cool, cylindrical object which she immediately recognised as being her torch.

With a tremulous hand, she aimed the torch into the body of the darkness and flicked the switch.

Sydney recoiled in horror as the light illuminated a ghost-white face with morphed, empty eye sockets and a mouth melted into a frozen scream. The intruder lunged at her as if it were a moth attracted to the light, but she was too quick for it. She brought the torch up into its jaw with so much force that it shattered the light a second time and sent her assailant sprawling backwards onto the floor. Immediately, the followed the sound of pained groans and saddled them on the ground, pinning their arms to their side and ramming the torch up into their throat.

“Hello, Sydney,” the intruder coughed up at her.

Sydney recognised the voice. She slackened the choke before asking; “who is this?”

Someone somewhere flicked a switch and all the light was returned to the room. Gale and Dewey were close by, holding the first items their hands fell on as weapons in case their assistance was needed.

Sydney was staring down at the person beneath her and came to realise that the contorted face that had lurched at her from within the shadows was actually a mask; a replica of those worn by the Ghost Face agents of the Stab Organisation that Woodsboro had been aiming to take down for years.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand and pressed her fingers against the sooth, plastic surface. Then, holding her breath, she tore off the mask…

To be continued…

By Tyler Turner

TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #2

Genre bending #1 – choose a well-known story and make it creepy.

John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars

NOTE: I found myself going a bit mad with this, so for the sake of the challenge, I’ve only posted the first section otherwise I wouldn’t have got it all finished today. I will definitely publish the full thing once it’s completed. 

Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was dangerous.

The virus that had gripped our world had first surfaced a couple of years previous to then and she had done everything in her power to prevent me becoming infected. She had even suggested pulling me out of school, but I had refused to leave. Perhaps if I had listened, I wouldn’t have been bitten by that kid in the cafeteria that day, and my mother’s efforts mightn’t have been all in vain.

Infected victims all succumbed to the virus at different rates, but once they had, there was no predicting what they might do. That’s why, when my mother suggested that I were to be detained at a high security protection facility, I agreed for the sake of her own well-being.

God’s Heart protection facility was structured like a cross, which was ironic considering that the whole damned world had lost its faith in religion by that point. The inhabitants were all at varying degrees of infection. Howls of pain and hunger rattled through the corridors all through the night, stealing all hope of sleep. Isaac – the guy in the cell next to mine – had gone as far as to gauge out his own eyes and eat them for a snack. This had only worsened his situation. The consumption of one’s own flesh had a profound effect on the virus’ nature, quickening the process of internal decay.

On the day Augustus Waters arrived at God’s Heart, it had taken an entire squadron to transport him to his cell, which just so happened to be adjacent to my own. All he did day in, day out was stare at me mercilessly through the bars. It unnerved me to the point where I one day cracked and confronted him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded, my teeth bared.

Seemingly unthreatened by my verbal outbreak, he leaned forwards and pressed his clammy forehead into the bars, allowing an insidious smile to slither across his cracked lips.  “Because you look delicious.” His tongue flickered out like a serpent’s as he spoke. “I enjoy tasting delicious people. When I first got infected, I decided not to deny myself the simple pleasures of existence. That’s how I ended up in here.”

There was an uncomfortable silence then as I watched in horror as he broke off his own pinky finger and placed it between his jagged teeth.

“Are you serious?” I hissed as he ground the finger to a pulp inside his mouth and swallowed. “Do you want to end up like Isaac?” I jerked my thumb towards the cell next to mine, where Isaac was repeatedly butting his contorted face against the wall, pausing only to lick up the gore left on its surface.

“It’s a metaphor,” he belched, still smiling that slimy smile. “It’s only detrimental if you digest it.”

He then rammed the last remaining fingers on his right hand down his throat, causing a wave of bile and half digested mush to erupt out of him along with the mangled remnants of the pinky.

To be continued… 

By Tyler Turner

TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #1

Choose a song at random and write a short horror story inspired by it.

Fearless Vampire Killers – Maeby

Every night, she danced her way through my dreams, luring me along and stealing away all hope of a peaceful sleep.

We first locked eyes in the town’s ailing dance hall. She had been centre stage, her hair, skin and dress all the same ghostly shade of white, gliding along like a swan on water. I was captivated instantly. She was so enchanting that I found it increasingly difficult to untangle her from my gaze. When her cool crystal eyes found mine from across the room I flinched as if burnt by ice, embarrassed to have been caught prying, although the prime purpose of her being there was to be seen and adored. It was from that moment that I was cursed.

Following that night, whenever my eyelids dared to droop she would appear, cutting me with her icy stare, enticing me to approach her with a curl of her index finger. I’d obey and attempt to reach out to her, but the action was as futile as clinging onto smoke with your bare hands. Whenever I drew nearer, she would pirouette just out of reach, so that only the tips of my fingers had the luxury of grazing the coarse frill of her dress.

With each night that passed and every hour of rest lost to her, I found myself gradually disconnecting with reality. She started manifesting herself in my waking life; I would catch a glimpse of two oceanic orbs peering at me from within the shadows of my bedroom and in the street, I’d see a flicker of white lace disappearing around the corner.

Every ounce of my being ached for her, yet simultaneously recoiled at the thought of her touch. She had the face of an angel but the lure of the devil. In my sleep-deprived stupor, I decided that I had to have her just as desperately as I needed to be rid of her. Every second I spent chasing shadows was another night wasted. I had to act immediately.

On the night that I finally willed myself to return to the dance hall, I had stood watching from the side of the stage as she swirled across the floorboards, casting her spell over the captivated spectators. This time, her movements were less fluent – or perhaps I was only just starting to notice her faults. Her footing was inelegant and messy, but mesmerising nonetheless.

As she neared my end of the stage, I emerged from my hiding place and intercepted her as she twirled blindly into my arms. She was a little startled, but didn’t resist me. Electricity coursed through me as my skin finally became acquainted with hers. She was as delicate as I had imagined, it was as if I was dancing with a spectre.

I took her tiny dove-like hands in mine and allowed our bodies to become entwined as we swayed like reeds in water. The crowd watched on in awe, unaware that my intervention was unscripted and blissfully ignorant to what I was about to do next.

Using one hand, I spun her around so that her back was against my chest and her head nestled under my chin. We both faced the audience but were blind to them, lost in our own rhythmic movements. The dancer was so engrossed that she never even noticed as the dagger that had been concealed within my sleeve slid out and into the palm of my hand. There was an audible gasp as I brought the blade to her throat and drew it neatly across her porcelain skin.

Her blood christened the front row of spectators, there were a few screams but most remained seated. They thought it was part of the act. The girl then turned to face me, her eyes filling with tears. She clutched at her spluttering wound, coughing up more of the vile gore through her mouth. That’s when I took her chin between my thumb and and index finger and reeled her into me, kissing her blood-slicked lips and stealing her last remaining breaths.

Once her body had spilled lifelessly on the ground, the audience erupted in a chorus of applause, many of them giving a standing ovation. In my sleep deprived state, the many faces blurred into one distorted image. Their claps echoed on in the distance as I felt myself drifting away.

I regarded the girl with a hazy eye. She had fallen face down. The temptation to turn her over and view her pretty face one last time was over-whelming. Instead, I brought down a heavy booted foot onto her skull and felt it crunch sickeningly like a beetle beneath the sole. Tiredness overcame me then and willed me to lay down next to her, using the yolk of her skull as a pillow.

The applause gave way to chaos then. The curtain was drawn and I was finally able to succumb to a dreamless sleep.

By Tyler Turner

 

The Mausoleum Scriptures’ 30 Day Writing Challenge

I’ve wanted to take part in a 30 day writing challenge for a while now but struggled to find one that really inspired me, so I’ve decided to create my own specially for The Mausoleum Scriptures. As of this evening, I will be posting daily, so make sure you keep your eyes peeled.

Feel free to take part – if you want to get involved but can’t commit to the full 30 days, then choose the challenges that you like the sound of and just do them. I will be more than happy to post any contributions, or links to other blogs/publications if you decide to upload them elsewhere.

Submissions: themausoleumscriptures@gmail.com

– Tyler

1. Choose a song at random and write a short horror story inspired by it.
2. Genre bending #1 – choose a well-known story and make it creepy.
3. Genre bending #2 – choose a well-known horror story and give it a new genre.
4. Choose a friend or family member and create a dark, disturbing backstory for them.
5. Take a handful of your favourite horror villains and put them in a room together.
6. Write a story or poem based on a nightmare you’ve had.
7. Create your zombie apocalypse team. The members can be real or fictional, but you must provide detailed profiles for them.
8. Take your top five fictional characters (of any genre) and put them in a slasher scenario where only one can make it out alive.
9. Compose a spooky sonnet.
10. Watch a horror film and write a review for it.
11. Take your ultimate celebrity crush and describe them in a very off-putting way.
12. Go for a walk, take a notepad and pen with you and sketch your journey. (As in live describe it, don’t literally draw it!)
13. Open a book at random and start a horror story/play/poem with the last line.
14. Write a short Gothic play set in the past.
15. Write from the perspective of an antagonist.
16. Tell us a spooky anecdote. If you’ve never had such an encounter, exaggerate one or make one up.
17. Automatic writing – spit out the darkest things that come to mind without thinking about it, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense!
18. Write an opinion column on something you truly despise, don’t be afraid to unleash the venom.
19. Analyse a Gothic/horror poem and write an essay on it.
20. Create your dream horror movie soundtrack (list ten songs).
21. Make a detailed plan for that horror movie using the songs you have chosen for inspiration.
22. History lesson – choose a spooky topic or look up a creepy event and write a non-fiction piece on it.
23. You have been infected with a virus and you lock yourself away so that you can’t harm those you love. Write them an honest letter and describe the changes happening to you.
24. Your home town as been hit by a disaster. Write a diary entry/entries detailing the events as they unfold.
25. Describe your average day from the view-point of a serial killer who’s looking to strike again.
26. Write a eulogy for the first person to die in a dumb way in a horror film you’ve seen.
27. You are your country’s leader and you are going to war with an extra-terrestrial race. Write an empowering speech to unite your people.
28. Find a partner (or partners) and keeping taking turns to write a sentence until you have a full horror story.
29. A cheese grater, a sock and a toothbrush – incorporate all these things in your story/play/poem.
30. Choose your favourite piece from the last 29 days and develop it further. Really run with it if you think it has potential.