Race for Safe Haven - Routine Traffic Stop (NaNoWriMo update #2)

[Posted by Ted H]

Been starting off on a decent pace. Not surging ahead, but at least keeping ahead of the daily checkpoints. Today will prove to be an especially interesting day since I'll be working 12 hours. Gonna see if I can get any writing done during my lunch breaks. I don't wanna fall behind this year, even for a day....I don't even need food, right?

Whatever...look-zombies!

Also, my never ending eye for editing has already had me make changes and additions to the early going portion. It's now different that what I have posted. Hell, I'll probably make changes to the part I'm posting now once I'm done here. That's writing, go figure. I know my creative writing professor would scold me, Don't wast precious time revising when you should be pounding out now work and all that jazz.

Current status of my 2014 NaNoWriMo: 8,404 / 50,000 (41,596 words to go!)
Current pace has me writing my 50,000th word on: November 30

Joooooin us!

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[Race for Safe Haven - Routine Traffic Stop]

            The rest of the night was an unclear blur as Rhett next found himself barely able to register the bartender announcing the last call. He glanced down to see an empty tall glass in his hand. He knew that it wasn't the original glass of liquor that was given to him earlier but he couldn't tell how many glasses he had downed during the night. All he knew was it was time to go. He patted his pocket and felt his keys. He apparently had been in good behavior for the bartender to not take his keys.
            He stood up, taking a moment to adjust. The bartender was on the other end of the bar. If Rhett was quick, he could duck out without the bartender seeing him. The bartender might try to stop him, but Rhett knew he could manage to drive home despite his condition. He didn't think he was that drunk. He stumbled into the door and disappeared into the night before the bartender could notice him. He left his credit card for his tab in there, but he wasn't planning on using it anytime soon. He probably wasn't going to use it again until the next time he drank anyway.
            The outside world was darker than Rhett expected, and he was still a bit dizzy from standing up. His stomach wasn't in such agreement anymore either with what felt like the gallon of alcohol he poured down his throat. He was feeling sick from the drinking, which sadly was his plan. He just needed to get home before he decided to throw up or pass out. He made his way to the back of the parking lot to where his car waited in the same spot he always parked it. That habit being the only reason he was able to find his car not only in the dark but also despite his drunk state. Every step he took made him more and more unsure of his ability to drive home, but every step made him feel more and more locked into his decision. Returning to the bar and requesting a cab at this point felt like defeat, and Rhett refused to be defeated.
            Rhett made it to his car, waiting beside a light that no longer functioned, and took a deep breath. He pulled his keys out and slowly went through each one until he found the one for the car. Every move and decision from here on out was slow and deliberate; such was the routine of driving home inebriated. The one difference this time was the cold that was threatening to take over providing a constant diversion in his head.
            "Okay," he said as he fired up the engine. Instinct was doing the bulk of his driving. He had driven back and forth from his house to the bar a thousand times by now. He could do it blind. All he had to consciously do was keep himself under the speed limit and look out for any bright lights heading in his direction. Easy.
            Once out of the parking lot and onto the open road, Rhett decided he needed music. He turned on the radio but there was a recording talking. He switched stations but the same voice played. "Seriously?" he said as he scanned through every station he could. He made a point to stay away from country and pop stations, but he was switching to even those in effort to find somewhere that was playing something else besides the recorded man.
            Going up and down through every station to no avail, Rhett finally gave up, a sense of defeat washing over he as he blindly reached for his CDs he kept in a compartment under his armrest. As he searched, he allowed himself to listen to what the recording was saying, feeling it might be important if it was preempting everything on the radio.
            "...Due to the escalation of the situation, the Onondaga county sheriff is mobilizing all available personnel, effective immediately. All off duty officers must report-"
            "What the hell?" Rhett said. Before he could listen for more, flashing red lights lit up behind him and his eyes darted to his rearview mirror. "Oh shit!" he yelled as he saw a police cruiser behind him. "Oh fuck, oh shit," he said as he pulled over near some woods and watched the cop park right behind him. Whatever was happening on the radio was no longer concerning as Rhett switched it off and began to wonder how he could possibly not go to jail now.
            Rhett waited as a cold sweat overtook him. He gripped the steering wheel and tried to will the alcohol out of his system. He figured he must have swerved or blew a stop sign while listening to the emergency broadcast. Part of him still wondered about what was going on, but the rest of him was more worried about the cop that was now approaching his car.
            He rolled his window down as the cop arrived, flashlight in one hand and his other on his holstered gun. "How ya doing tonight?" he asked. Rhett mumbled something in response, not daring to make eye contact as the cop illuminated his face with a flashlight. "Doing some drinking tonight?" he asked as he steadied the light on Rhett's face. "No sir," Rhett lied "Just feeling a bit under the weather. Trying to get home." Rhett focused on not slurring any words and hoped that the cop would be as scared of getting sick as the man from the bar was earlier. He could envision a scene where the cop becomes worried that Rhett has the W-F disease and sends him away, not wanting to risk infection.
            "Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle please?" the cop asked, undeterred by Rhett's claim to illness. Rhett slowly complied as he stepped out of his car and faced the cop. He immediately thought the cop would ask him to take a breathalyzer. He'd certainly fail, but he knew he had the right to reject the test, as much good as that would help.
            "Can't be that sick if you're out and about at this hour," the cop said "Where you coming from?"
            Rhett hesitated a moment to answer. "Work."
            "They let you work sick?"
            "I was fine, uh, earlier."
            "They send you home or did your shift let out?"
            Rhett was hesitating again looking for an answer when he noticed the grin on the cop's face; a cocksure grin that said everything Rhett didn't want to hear. He also noticed now that with each breath he let off a potent and unmistakable smell of liquor. The cop had no interest in where Rhett worked or whatever story he was trying to concoct. He was just fucking with him before the inevitable arrest.
            Rhett remained quiet while the cop waited with his grin. "I said, how was work today?" the cop asked, Rhett stayed silent. "You're right," he continued, noticing Rhett's annoyed expression "I don't think you were at work either. You want to try another story?" Rhett continued to glare and say nothing. He had no interest in entertaining the cop, which was starting to grate on the officer.
            "Fine then," the cops said, finally losing the grin "Step over to the front of your vehicle, put your hands on the hood and keep your legs spread." Rhett contemplated the idea of ignoring the order and firing off some quip about the cop wanting him to spread his legs, but he noticed he still had his hand on his holstered gun.
            Rhett slowly made his way to the front of his car and assumed the position. He decided to change the subject as the cop began patting him down. "Don't you have more important things to be doing right now?"
            "Oh, now you want to chat?" the cop said, ignoring the question.
            "The radio said you were being mobilized."
            "Still have to keep the peace elsewhere. Keep the streets safe from the drunks, for example."
            "What the hell is going on?"
            "Riot," the cop said after a pause "Apparently some infected are trying to bust out."
            "That doesn't make sense. Why would they try to escape? They're sick. And why would every cop in the city need to stop a single hospital riot."
            "It's not one hospital, it's every hospital....And some...some of the people escaped."
            "In the city?"
            The cop didn't say anything as he finished patting Rhett down.
            "Hey. What do you mean every hospital?"
            "I don't know," the cop said as Rhett heard the sound of handcuffs being taken out "And it doesn't matter for you anyway; You'll be in jail. Now put your hands on your head."
            Rhett did as asked and the cop grabbed his left arm and brought it behind his back and attached the first handcuff. Rhett sighed, closed his eyes and hung his head. Seemingly the only cop in the world not dealing with a riot, and he happened to be on the street Rhett drove home drunk on. The cop grabbed his other arm as Rhett picked his head up at the sound of a soft moan. "You hear something?" he asked, but didn't need a response as the cop let go of his arm to regard an approaching figure.
            "Ma'am, I need you to step back," the cop said. Rhett turned himself to better see. Slowly dragging herself towards the two men was a woman, concealed mostly by darkness and occasionally lit up by the cop car's flashing red lights. Her whole body swayed from side to side as she walked, both arms limp. "Is she alright?" Rhett asked.
            "Get back on the car!" the cop screamed at Rhett, causing him to immediately spin around and practically hug his car, the loose handcuff bouncing off the hood. The cop, worried that the woman might be injured, approached her cautiously. "Miss," he said as he pulled his flashlight back out "I'm a police officer. Are you alright?"
            The woman moaned again and shuffled herself at the cop at an increased pace. The cop shone the flashlight at her to light up a pale face with a slacked jaw. Her neck was red from a gaping neck wound that was still bleeding, albeit not as much as it should be, onto her dark T-shirt and jeans, causing the light to reflect off the heavy blood stains.
            "Oh shit," the cop said as he ran up to the woman, Rhett risking another peek as he turned his head to watch. "I just need you to lie down," the cop said as he reached out to her. The woman snapped her arm to meet the cop's hand and grabbed it, pull it close and bite into his wrist. The cop screamed and struggled to push the woman off of him while she tore flesh and refused to let go of his arm.
            Rhett was speechless as he watched, unaware of an approaching figure in the woods coming at him from behind. The cop managed to kick the woman off, not before she tore a chunk of flesh off of his arm. "Oh my God," he said as he looked at the damage. "Stay on the ground!" he shouted to the woman as she chewed of the flesh in her mouth, not at all satisfied and ready to get up for more. He pulled his gun out and pointed it at her.
            A stick snapping grabbed Rhett's attention as he turned to see a man exit the woods towards him. He had the same pale expression and blood smeared all over his mouth and chest. He stepped onto the street and reached for Rhett the same way the woman attacked the cop. "Oh fuck this," he said as he backed away towards the cop.
            "Get back on that car!" the cop screamed at him as he reeled around and pointed his weapon at Rhett, barely noticing the new man stumble into view. "Shoot it!" Rhett cried as he ducked. "Freeze!" the cop yelled at the man, summoning all the authority he could while aiming with his right arm and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his left. The pale man paid no heed to him and continued to approach him and Rhett.
            "I said FREEZE!" the cop screamed. The man now turned away from Rhett and went straight for the cop, undeterred. The cop squeezed off a shot, striking the man squarely in the chest. He stumbled back momentarily, then continued forward as if nothing happened. "The fuck you shooting blanks for?" Rhett yelled. The cop didn't hear him as he marveled at the man with a bullet in his chest walking along as if nothing happened. "Must be some kind of drug?" he wondered.
            "Behind you!" Rhett yelled as the cop turned to see the woman reaching for him. He raised his right arm to defend himself as she grabbed it as big into him, causing him to drop his gun. While fighting her off, the man closed the distance to him and bit into his defenseless neck. He collapsed under the weight of the two assailants, giving them easier access to their meal. He fought and flailed as hard as he could, but he soon found it hard to breathe as blood began to pool in his throat. Soon after, he struggled no more.
            "Oh fuck," Rhett said, frozen in terror as he watched two people devour another. He glanced in the direction the woman came from and saw two more figures moving in similar fashion, heading directly for the flashing lights of the cop car. He could also hear movements in the nearby woods. He glanced near the scene of carnage to see the cop's dropped handgun. Without thinking, he quickly made for it and scooped it up, the stray handcuff hanging off his wrist dragging on the street pavement, alerting the woman to his presence as she turned to him.
            For a moment she stared at him and Rhett got a good look at her eyes. The normally white sclera was dark, Rhett was unsure of the exact color, but she looked at him with a lost gaze yet undeniably focused. Rhett pointed the gun at her in case she made an attempt at him. She looked at him a beat longer before turning back to her meal. She had no intention on attacking Rhett when an easier meal was lying before her.
            Rhett backed away, trying to ignore the wet sounds of flesh being torn or organs being pulled out. There was nothing he could do for the cop, at least not anymore. More of these people were coming, and not all of them would ignore Rhett. The moaning he heard in the dark also suggested there were more out there, more than the ones he was already accounting for. He had no intention on being the next meal. He fumbled his keys out and broke for his car. Once in the car he looked back to the cop's body and the approaching figures, now joined by three more slow moving people, all in some way injured and bloody. He fired up the engine and drove away as fast as his car would allow.
            The rest of his journey home was thankfully uneventful. Once in his driveway though, he slowly opened his car door and pointed the pistol out. He quickly ducked out and closed the door and waited. What he remember from those people was they had no intention of stealth; if they wanted to get at someone, they went straight at you and weren't quiet about it.
            After waiting for what he felt like long enough, Rhett quietly made his way to the front door and unlocked it. After closing it and locking it back up, he collapsed to the ground with his back on the door. "Holy shit...holy shit...holy shit..." he repeated to himself as he dropped the gun and held his head in his hands. He dared not turn any lights on or make any effort to call attention to his house. He didn't understand what was happening and he didn't care to know. He just wanted this nightmare he was in to end.

Race for Safe Haven - Bar Banter (NaNoWriMo update #1)

[Posted by Ted H]

And They're underway!

13 of the first 15 days this month have me working, including the entire opening week. What's NaNoWriMo without my life giving me the challenge?

This opening bit is zombie free. Figure I need to introduce our protagonist before we bury him in the undead.....

...This story has nooooooothing to do with the ebola crisis *cough*

Current status of my 2014 NaNoWriMo: 3,415 / 50,000 (46,585 words to go!)
Current pace has me writing my 50,000th word on: November 30

Jooooooin us!

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[Race for Safe Haven - Bar Banter]

            "We interrupt this program to bring you a special report."
            The television went from the warning graphic to the scene of a man behind a news desk. Before the man opened his mouth, the boos and hissing from everyone at the bar drowned out all sound from the television. Peanut shells and crumpled napkins were tossed at the screen and yells to change the channel were sounding off. The bartender fumbled for the remote to ease the suddenly angry mob.
            It wasn't that the program being interrupted was of any particular interest to anyone; most of the patrons were ignoring the television anyway. It was the fact that the special report was going to talk about the same tired news story that no one wanted to hear about anymore. Validation to that fact was granted as a familiar graphic was shown behind the newsman as he talked, still inaudible to the irate crowd as the bartender finally pointed the remote to the screen and changed the channel. A west coast baseball game appeared and the bar was content once more, most of them turning away from the television and returning to whatever they were occupying themselves with before the special report invaded their attention.
            The special report that everyone wanted to ignore was about the disease that originated overseas but found its way to America. The media dubbed it "The W-F epidemic" named for something few people cared to pay attention to. All that was relevant was that in the third world where this disease originated, it was proving to be a serious situation. When it spread to places like America, it was wrote off as something that could be managed with superior health care. When that proved to be wrong, drastic measures were taken and anyone infected reported to quarantine. Fatalities were rare, but the general population braced for the eventuality. In the meantime, people just wanted to go about their business and not have to be forced to endure any more reporting on the matter.
            Rhett sat at his usual spot at the bar, one hand on a beer and the other supporting his head as he felt a headache starting. A patron sitting next to him turned around from watching the television and looked to Rhett. "I swear," he started regardless if Rhett wanted the conversation or not "I swear not a day goes by where I can watch a minute of TV without someone cramming down my throat this...this," he paused as he mentally groped for a word. "Sickness...disease...epidemic..."
            "Infection," Rhett said with his eyes closed, trying to will the oncoming headache away "Let's just call it that." The headache cared not for what Rhett wanted. "Nah," the man to his left said "Epidemic is better. That's what the news calls it. This thing is everywhere."
            "Whatever," Rhett mumbled.
            "I heard about this quarantine people enter," the man continued "And they apparently get an information blackout. No TV, no radio, no internet. Nothing. I think it's wrong that us healthy people gotta hear about this epidemic more than the people sick with it have to."
            "They got to live with it though," a man to Rhett's right chimed in "I think that qualifies as hearing about it more often."
            "No," the man on the left said unable to be swayed from his original position.
            "They're dead," a woman on the right side of Rhett said "My boyfriend's brother works at one of the hospitals in Miami treating these people. He says they're putting down all W-F patients."
            "My neighbor visited her sister in quarantine yesterday," the man on the right said "Nobody's killing anyone."
            "It's the only way to stop it," the woman said "Kill the ones already infected, save the healthy people while there's still time."
            "That's just not true," the man on the left said.
            "The conditions are deplorable, I know that," the man on the right said "Not enough space for all the sick people. The underestimated the number of infections over here."
            "So what's to say they don't euthanize a few hopeless cases here and there to free up some room?" the woman asked.
            "I know there are some protests over these conditions," the man on the left said "And I heard some people are starting to lash out inside there, but nothing fatal is going on."
            "People ARE dying from this!" the woman said feeling like that would invalidate any argument against her."
            "In Africa, yeah," the man on the right said "This is America. No one's dying here."
            "Guy in California died," the man on the left said.
            "One guy," the other man said "Out of how many?"
            "The African death tolls are exaggerated," yet another man decided to enter the conversation "They said some of the early deaths were inaccurately reported."
            "Yeah, I remember that," the man on the right said "Like they magically came back to life?"
            "I thought no one wanted to hear about this shit?" Rhett said aloud as everyone quieted down to regard him as he closed his eyes tight and tried to ride out the early part of his headache.
            "You don't look too good," the man on the right announced. "Oh God, he's infected!" the man on the left shouted as he jumped back. The entire bar soon grew quiet as Rhett suddenly found there was distance between him and everyone else.
            "Now you want to call it an infection?" Rhett said as he found the sudden silence somewhat preferable for his headache. "Calm down," the bartender announced as he made his way over "What's going on?"
            "What's going on?" the man on the left repeated the question as he pointed to Rhett "I think this guy is sick  and I don't want to catch this thing."
            "Idiots," Rhett said as he popped an eye open to regard the man "It's a cold. Happens all the time. It's not this God damn plague."
            "Liar!" the man on the left said.
            "I have a headache and my sinuses are getting clogged," Rhett snapped "This time tomorrow I'll be puking and sneezing all over the place."
            "Puking...nausea...that's a symptom!" the man said.
            "Stop being hysterical," Rhett said as he turned to regard the bartender "A little backup?"
            The bartender calmly took Rhett's empty glass. "This so-called infected guy, Rhett, has been coming here for as long as I've been tending this bar. Every year bout this time he gets the same damn cold and I don't see him for about a week because of it."
            "Still..." the man on the left said, not convinced. "Do you have a fever?" the bartender asked Rhett. Rhett shook his head. "No matter what other symptom is present, there's always a fever." Other people in the bar began to go about their own business again, sure that Rhett wasn't sick in any meaningful way. "Are you sure...about the fever?" the man asked. "Just because you don't want to watch these reports on it doesn't mean other people ignore them. They talk about that symptom all the time," the bartender said.
            Rhett was no longer the center of attention. In fact, most people gave him distance. "Why are you here, Rhett?" the bartender asked after dealing with a few other patrons. "I have a plan," Rhett said with a smirk "You said it yourself, every damn year I get this cold. Tomorrow It'll be hitting me all the way. I'm gonna drown myself in alcohol before that happens."
            "You think that'll cure you or something?" the bartender asked with an arched eyebrow. "Nah," Rhett said "But it might take the edge off." The bartender smiled and shook his head. "Another beer?" he asked.
            "Nah. Hit me with something harder," Rhett said "Jagermeister."
            "Red bull in it?"
            "Straight. I need to take my medicine."
            The bartender laughed as he disappeared and came back with a tall glass of dark liquid, more than Rhett was used to getting. "Holy shit," he responded. "Just making sure you get the right dosage," the bartender said. "You should be a doctor," Rhett said as he took the glass and took a large gulp, scrunching his face as he swallowed.

NaNoWriMo 2014

[Posted by Ted H]

Man your battle stations.

National Novel Writing Month 2014 is about to kick off. I once again plan to conquer the mountain that is 50,000 words in the span of 30 days. This year I plan to win by once again returning to the world of Safe Haven, this time, taking it all the way back to the beginning.

To anyone who read Safe Haven...none of those characters are in this day 0 prequel. Does that mean they all die? Probably?
If this project goes as smooth as I hope, then maybe I'll reach a point in the story where characters like Cayra, Patrick, Mean Guy and the Rotting Cure will get introduced. Maybe.

As always, feel free to either track or join me in this yearly writing battle.
http://nanowrimo.org/en/participants/reted

Demons Ascension

Demons Ascension
by: Ted H

James Blake is tracked down by an old acquaintance and talked into helping in an investigation into a serial killer running around Chicago. Victims are being slaughtered in ritualistic fashion at random and no one has even the slightest lead to work with. As Blake follows his own investigation, he finds that there is more to this than anyone could have guessed, and it becomes a race against time to keep the ritual from being completed. Heaven and Hell are powerless and Blake must stand against a demon seeking to become a god.

-2013 National Novel Writing Month winner

A Plea for Help

One Last Good Day

First Night

Packing the Dead

The Morgue

Work-Friendzoned

Bradford

Homeless Man Alley

Rickey

Amy

Investigational Banter

Light Rain

Meet Stan

Church

Where the Magic Happens

The Room

Well THAT Went Well

The Number You are Trying to Call...

No Name Liquors

The Projects

Still on the Case

Not Dead

THE Bible

Croatoan

Stan's Favor

Return to Chicago

Pete

Amanda

Dennys

Chase Scene

Promise Not to Move?

Cocky Moron

Monroe

Pentagram

Rescue

Back to the Station

The Army

Elevator

Not Earth

One Bullet

The Fallout

About That Favor

You Mortals

No Idea?

Gods and Mortals

Tenants Harbor [Teaser]

[Posted by Ted H]

I've explained the process of how Demons Ascension came to be, right? An idea, left to marinate in my brain over the coarse of a few years before it can come out in the form of some coherent story.

...Well back in 2010, I put an idea into my brain to cook and until recently, nothing good came out. I took a week long trip to Maine and was struck by inspiration based on where I was staying. I wrote notes for most of my time there and attempted to pound out a story from it. Ten words in I realized this wasn't gonna work. I still wanted to write the story, but I wasn't going to force it. Fast forward to 2014 and I finally decided to try a short based on the idea from back then.

My original plan was to make "Tenants Harbor" my 2014 NaNoWriMo novel. Unsure about if I could knock 50K words out in a month for the story, I decided to write this teaser to see if the story was ready for writing. Eventually, I got this short done, but decided it took way too long to get done for the overall story to be viable for NaNoWriMo. Maybe next year.

Soon I will announce what I'll be really writing for NaNoWriMo 2014, but for now enjoy this. I figure the teaser is a perfect fit for Halloween anyway. Next week will be nothing, because the following week will be November.

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[Tenants Harbor - Teaser]

Trevor slowly groped his way along the hall for the bathroom, half drunk and half awake. He still was a bit foreign on the general layout of the house but he felt he still had a good enough idea where the bathroom was suppose to be. Inside, he felt around for the light switch before closing the door. He was unsure of the hour, such concerns seem trivial when one awakens suddenly in the middle of the night needing to heed the call of nature.

            As he did his business, he wondered if anyone else in the house were awake. He was one of the last to turn in for the night, but that didn't mean everyone went right to sleep. Maybe someone was still awake and game for more drinking since Trevor knew for a fact that there was at least half a bottle of vodka left. He thought better of the idea when a growing pain surfaced in his mind and caused him to wince at the light in the room.

            "Christ, my heads about to explode," he mumbled to himself as he splashed water in his face. It did little to alleviate the pain in his head as he propped his elbows on the sides of the tiny sink and held his head by the sides as he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot in the reflection and he was uncomfortably pale looking. A soft ringing began in his ears as he adjusted his hands to cover and rub his eyes.

            "Darkness," he said softly to himself, trying to wait out the pain a little before making his body move for the return trip to his bed, the promise of the quiet, pitch darkness that awaited him there already making him feel up for the task. His eyes readjusted after being rubbed and he began to turn around when something caught his eye in the mirror.

            In the reflection, standing right behind him, Trevor saw a figure; An unknown woman who looked like she had just stepped from the nearby ocean with her head tilted to the side and mouth open wide. The sheer shock of seeing someone in the bathroom with him caused Trevor to spin around quickly, momentarily disorienting his taxed mind, as he raised one arm up to defend himself by instinct. Lowering his arm, he saw no one was there. He checked the mirror and back again to confirm this and breathed a sigh of relief.

            The shock caused a bit of adrenalin to coarse through his body and Trevor's headache seemed to subside, even for just a moment, because of it. This allowed him to piece together what he saw more clearly. The woman had looked soaked, with her dark hair slicked down all around her head with her face showing through as if the hair were a curtain. She had both eyes open wide, but only one eye to see with; her left eye merely a dark void in her face.

            Her entire face had looked puffy, almost as if it was waterlogged. The most unsettling feature though was the dark marking on her neck. Trevor first thought it a necklace, but it was too strait and the marking featured so stark a contrast to her pale skin that he knew better. Trevor gave off a long and heavy sigh as he composed himself. He was tired, he knew that much. The fatigue and pain in his head alongside the dark of this house had caused him to see something. He laughed a little as he finally calmed down and his headache began to return.

            "Drunk nightmares," he said to himself dismissively as he stepped away from the sink, then stopped dead, his blood growing cold. His foot had stepped into something wet. His heart started racing again as the cold water seeped into his sock. Trevor could hear something in the hall, the sound of someone struggling to breathe, someone out there giving off short, almost gargled gasps. The light from the bathroom offered little aid as Trevor looked out into the hall but couldn't see anything, save for the reflection of light off a wet set of footprints leading away into the darkness.

            "Not going out there," Trevor decided as he reached for the door and closed it slowly. His mind grasped at the idea that someone was playing a prank, but he wasn't laughing. He wasn't able to close the door, the latch became stuck and wouldn't allow the door to remain shut. "Seriously?" he asked aloud as a cold bead of sweat began to trail down his forehead and the sound of struggled breathing became louder.

            He tried pressing the latch deeper, hoping it would pop back out but to no avail. He shook the handle, gently at first but soon it became a frantic rattle as the breathing grew louder and closer. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Trevor repeated to himself as he tried in vain to free the door latch so he could lock himself in, the breathing in the darkness growing more and more close until he could swear it was right on top of him. At that moment it ceased and Trevor was alone in the bathroom, the only sound being his own stressed breaths.

            A moment passed and Trevor did nothing. The door latch then popped free and he stared at it in disbelief. He glanced back up and into the darkness, wondering if whatever was out there was still waiting for him. The light from the bathroom extended well into the hall but he never saw anything despite how close the unknown breathing had been. He then felt something drop onto his head. He reached up and felt something wet as another drop fell onto his hand. "What the..." he said as he tried to examine the water before he felt something brush right up to his ear and the gargled breathing resumed right behind him.

            Trevor sprawled out of the bathroom and into the hall. He looked back just in time to see something disappear from the light and up onto the ceiling. The struggled breathing echoing through the hall as something crawled around all over the hallway ceiling. Trevor crawled to the wall and attempted to see in the dark but to no avail. The breathing stopped again and all other noises ceased. Whatever that thing was, the woman in the mirror or otherwise, it was somewhere in the dark, waiting for Trevor. He briefly wondered if he should try the bathroom again before the light coming from it began to flicker and eventually go out, leaving everything in pitch black.

            He braced himself against the wall as he rose to his feet. His room on the far end of the hall, Trevor began his slow trek back, keeping an ear out for any hint of the woman in the mirror. What before seemed like a short trip now from his room was an unending march back, the hallway seemed to grow longer with every step forward and Trevor wondered if he'd even make it. The occasional gasped breath of something unknown causing him to occasionally freeze and wait. Somewhere behind him was the sound of falling water, dripping from the ceiling as something crawled along.

            Even in the darkness Trevor could spy the bedroom door. A sense of dread grew within him when he began to wonder if this door would have the same trouble closing as the bathroom. All thoughts ceased at the sound of something wet smacking onto the floor not far behind him followed by heavy strained breathing. Loud, wet footsteps sounded as the figure quickly approached. Trevor took off in a dead sprint to cover the last several feet to the bedroom ,a quick glance behind revealed a dark figure with outstretched arms making for him.

            Trevor barged into the bedroom then slammed the door shut behind him. The door had no lock, so he braced himself against it as the woman reached and began to bang furiously on it. Trevor laid his full weight into the door to prevent the woman from entering as she continued to pound, her gargled and strained breathing becoming wails. The door bounced under him with each furious strike and Trevor wondered if the door could even hold up.

            Suddenly, the pounding stopped and the wailing ceased, and all was quiet again. Trevor dared not look out into the hall or even move from his position blocking the door shut. He pondered how long it was until morning or at least how long until someone else in the house would be up. "As long as I stay put..." Trevor began to say, attempting to calm himself, but stopped when he felt drops of water fall onto him from the ceiling followed by the sound of strained breathing above him.

10 Books

[Posted by Ted H]

As I continue to stall until November...

So there was this thing on facebook where you list the 10 most influential books from your life. Eventually I got around to doing it, and now to help fill the gap before NaNoWriMo 2014, I'll post my 10 here as well...
Top 10 books that influenced you one way or the other through your life.
[in no particular order]

 Tales of Mystery and Imagination [Edgar Allan Poe]
-When I was a kid, most people my age would read a Goosebumps book for their thrills. I however was reading Poe tales before middle and high schools were making my peers get around to it. It's an old book, I'm honestly shocked it hasn't fallen apart yet. And not all the Poe tales are contained within, nor are any of his poems, but it was still a solid read throughout my life. I think I've read TellTale Heart to the point where I could recite most of it at one point.
In college one of my classes were tasked to read the Rue Morgue. The next day I lugged this book to class just to show off I was no amateur. Hell, I only took the class (called "Murder, Mystery and Fiction) because the description said we'd study the stories of Poe and Sherlock Holmes....we spent maybe a week on each before the professor decided to spend the rest of the semester talking about her favorite feminist authors. "Let down" was the most generous way I'd describe that class.
Like I said though, old book. 1935 makes it older than my parents and every time I open it, I'm afraid that this will be the day the front cover tears off or something equally tragic will happen. Other than being old, it's in fantastic condition and despite being something I've had all my life, every page is there and perfectly legible. Even the artwork is fine. Arthur Rackham's illustrations, by the way, are a perfect fit and tone for a collection of Poe stories.
But yeah, I practically learned to read with this book, in case you're wondering what kind of foundation I have to the fucked up shit I write about.

Green Eggs and Ham [Dr Seuss]
Speaking of books I sort of always had with me in life...I've read a few Dr Seuss books in my time. They were all disposable to me except this one, which has stood the test of time to the point that "Sam I Am" is the name I was confirmed under by my church (I'm not making a TOTAL mockery of my religion, am I?). The back and forth conversational rhyming drew me in and the fact that a coherent story was made out of it without ever deviating was the shit to me.
I've since done my own homage to the tale. The whole "Weed From a Can" thing I did was a straight up nod to the story. "Fat Lady Rolling Down a Steep Hill", arguably the greatest poem I've ever done, has Seuss to thank for its existence. While not directly based off of any Dr Seuss tale, every other poem I had been exposed to in life was either English-class approved bull shit or too short to be a tale. FLRDaSH was me telling a rhyming tale without it having to be a song.

Birth of a Dynasty [Joel Sherman]
So...I'm a Yankees fan. No shock there if you've ever met me. The book chronicles the 1996 Yankees, from the last game of their 1995 season all the way to their 1996 championship. It details how they constructed the team and the million and one ways the team could have been altered, all detailing just how impossibly hard it is to field a team that can not only win, but win for years. The 96 Yankees kick started a dynasty that lasted into the next decade and the book highlights all the people and events that did all the right things at exactly the right times to make it a reality.
History buffs eat up shit like this for their genre, and I always go back to this book.

The Lord of the Rings [J.R.R. Tolkien]
Maybe you've heard of it? I totally count The Hobbit as part of this by the way. What I love here is that it proves you can create your own sprawling universe and saga and have it span multiple novels. Plus, The Hobbit is an example of "Oh shit, lemme retcon some details from my previous story cuz I got this great idea for a new story!"

John Dies at the End [David Wong]
So after I let people read the initial version of That One Night, someone sent me a link to read a story written by an writer at Cracked.com. Like mine, it had a supernatural situation where fucked up shit was happening. Also though, it read like an escaped mental patient was given a book deal. Still though, I made it a point to read it to the end and even to buy the damn thing when it came out in book form, then read it again. There's some shit that was changed for...reasons, though that I now get to be a hipster about and say "They sang "Sweet Child of Mine" instead of "Camel Holocaust" when I read it, loser." John lives by the way.
...Never saw the movie though...

Resident Evil: City of the Dead [S.D. Perry]
In terms of writing style, Perry is defiantly an influence for me. Writing first person perspectives for a character all alone would be a crazy daunting task if not for how Perry sets it up. Now all I wanna do most times is write a single character who is reflecting on their thoughts as they endure a hellish situation.
Also it's a book about one of my favorite games ever, Resident Evil 2.

American Gods [Neil Gaiman]
Pitched to me by a friend because of a scene featuring a man-eating vagina (seriously). Turns out the rest of the book was pretty good too. I've got one or two projects that I've shelved because I failed to pull off a setup that Gaiman pulled off in this book. Every time I pick this up I feel inspired to try again.

The Catcher in the Rye [J.D. Salinger]
For years, literature that was considered "classic" to me always translated to "boring shit with boring people written by boring writers that schools make you read for boring reasons." Then I read this and changed my opinion a little. Most of the stuff schools make you read is still boring, but sometimes a story where the protagonist haggles with a prostitute slips by.

The Bishop Grimes Incident [me]
Yes...I am cocky enough to make a book written by me as one of my most influential books ever. I'll even do it again for the final entry on this list.
BGI was my first ever stab at writing a long form story. It was birthed by boredom, written while I should have been taking notes during classes in high school, read like it was out of a Resident Evil game, and encouraged by the handfuls of people who wanted to be in it.
Being an unoriginal hack at the time, I used real life classmates as characters, and myself as the main character. When word spread that I was doing this (which I still have no idea how that happened cuz I sure as hell wasn't talking) I was worried about how people might react. The reaction was nuts; people not only wanted in this story, but they all wanted better deaths in it than everyone else. I ended up rewriting the story a year later with better writing skills and a better plot in mind. Reading the original and the remake always makes me cringe cuz back then my skills as a writer were terrible and my thought was "People actually enjoyed this?"
Every so often I'll look the story up and read through it, just to remind myself of how far I've come as a writer. Because of this story, I am what I am today, and what I'll be in the future.
But seriously though, what the hell was I thinking?

That One Night [me]
Yes, the ego stroking continues.
Original cast, coherent plot, supernatural mystery that is ambiguous and ultimately (kinda) explained, zombies.....if BGI was my foray into writing, than T1N was my thesis on everything I can do. Proof that I could write something big that total strangers (not just friends) would find enjoyable. It's a self contained story, but for me it also introduced a universe of new concepts and characters to play with in writing.
BGI proved I could write. T1N proved I could go big.

Honorable mentions: Journal of the Dead [Jason Kersten], The Natural [Bernard Malamud], The Alphabet of Manliness [Maddox], The Zen of Zim [Don Zimmer / Bill Madden], I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell [Tucker Max]

The 2014 MLB Turtle-Wax Awards

[Posted by Ted H]

Yup...Time to flex my creative muscles before November. As always, winners are encouraged to make their own trophies to commemorate their accomplishment of sucking...

----------------------------------------------------

[The 2014 Turtle-Wax Awards]

These are the awards you DON'T want to win.

The "Rays And Blue Jays Would Rather Play In This Division" Award
Awarded to the crappiest division in baseball
[Previous winners: 2009 AL Central, 2010 AL West, 2011 AL Central, 2012 AL Central, 2013 AL West]

---The National League East: Braves, Marlins, Mets, Nationals, Phillies---

One team, just one, finished above .500 this year from that division. The Nationals sure kicked a lot of ass this season, but the other four were just garbage. The Phillies were old, the Braves started their late season fade earlier than usual and the Mets and Marlins were....well they were the Mets and Marlins. Then usual winners of this award, the AL Central and West, were two of the best in baseball this year meanwhile, which just shows you what an odd year it's been.

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The "Steroid Accusation Rookie Of The Year" Award
Awarded to the slugger who is probably gonna get accused of steroids next, if not already
(I am NOT accusing the winner of steroids, just sayin...)
[Previous winners: 2009 Aaron Hill (TOR), 2010 Corey Hart (MIL), 2011 Jacoby Ellsbury (BOS), 2012 Edwin Encarnacion (TOR), 2013 Chris Davis (BAL)]

---Victor Martinez of the Detroit Tigers---
2014 HR total: 32
Previous high: 25

That previous high in home runs came in 2007. And before you go on about how that's because the wear and tear on his body for a whole season as a catcher held him back, may I remind you that he was in peak condition in 2007...he's 35 this year, not exactly in the prime of ones life. His 1st two season in Detroit, he couldn't even hit 15 dingers...

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The "What The Hell Happened To You?" Award
Awarded to the team that fell off the map when they were supposed to be contenders
[Previous winners: 2009 New York Mets, 2010 Seattle Mariners, 2011 Cincinnati Reds, 2012 Miami Marlins, 2013 California Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim]

---The Milwaukee Brewers---

So the season starts and the Brewers are flying high. Looking gooooooood. Then they stop winning all the time, but at least they're in 1st place and all the early winning built them a buffer. Then they stop winning entirely and fall out of 1st in not only their division, but also the wild card. Ultimately, they struggled to finish above .500 just so they could say they didn't completely shit the bed on the season.

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The "Shut Your God Damn Mouth" Award
Awarded to whoever talked too much without backing it up
[Previous winners: 2009 Chicago Cubs, 2010 MLB Network, 2011 Carlos Zambrano (CHC), 2012 Boston Red Sox, 2013 Jordany Valdespin (NYM)]

---Keith Olbermann of ESPN---

Right before the finale of Derek Jeter's farewell extravaganza, Keith here decided to make a monologue as to why Derek Jeter isn't the greatest player ever. Understandable, Jeter was great, but not THAT great. Olbermann kept going though, attempting to point out that Jeter isn't even that good to begin with. Using cherry picked stats and (groan) sabermetrics, he details why Jeter should just shut up and go away.
...Missing from that video he made was any mention of playoffs. Never mind that Jeter is the all time playoffs hit king, the mere fact that Jeter brought his A-Game every October should be proof enough to why Yankees fans raise him to such a high pedestal. Olbermann mentions that Jeter has no MVPs but it's noted by fans all over baseball that he was robbed by voters of at least one, maybe two MVP awards (Twins fans are still as shocked as anyone from when Morneau won). He's also neglecting the 2000 World Series in which Jeter took home MVP against the Mets, no big deal right?

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The "This Years Miracle, Next Years Indians" Award
Awarded to the team that made a surprise playoff run this year, and will fall short next year
[Previous winners: 2009 Colorado Rockies, 2010 Tampa Bay Rays, 2011 Tampa Bay Rays, 2012 Baltimore Orioles, 2013 Cleveland Indians]

---The Kansas City Royals---

The National League seems to be settling into a groove of only certain teams can make the playoffs lately. Meanwhile the Royals just ended the longest playoff drought by any major team in NA...and I say that with skepticism because I still kinda don't count the wild card game as a real playoff game. Royals can't make this years success last...

(I am 4-1 in making this prediction. My only mistake was only because the 2011 Red Sox choked, allowing the Rays to make the cut...)

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The "This Years Mets, Next Years Miracle" Award
Awarded to a team that sucked this year, but can make a run next year
[Previous winners: 2009 Chicago White Sox, 2010 Chicago White Sox, 2011 Washington Nationals, 2012 Seattle Mariners, 2013 New York Yankees]

---The Chicago Cubs---

Holy crap, did I lose my mind? Who picks the Cubs to make a playoff run? Don't get me wrong, the Cubs will never win it all, but they're starting to showcase some of the young talent in their farm and look poised to flex their talent for a full season. If anything they seem to be an ace short of having a good looking future, which seems odd when you think of the trade they pulled earlier this season...

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The "AAA Team In Disguise" Award
Awarded to a team that might have better luck in AAA
[Previous winners: 2009 Washington Nationals, 2010 Pittsburgh Pirates, 2011 Boston Red Sox, 2012 Houston Astros, 2013 Miami Marlins]

---The Texas Rangers---

Never has a team embodied this award title more than the Rangers this year. So many injuries piled up on them, I'm pretty sure they had a starting lineup of players who began the year in AAA. Plus they were bad, so bad even Ron Washington decided to hell with this.
Honorable mention goes out to the New York Yankees starting rotation, which rocked 4 out of 5 as minor leaguers at one point.

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The "Dull Knife In The Drawer" Award
Awarded to the biggest mental error this year
[Previous winners: 2009 Washington Nati(o)nals, 2010 Barak Obama, 2011 Brian Sabean (SF), 2012 Derek Norris (OAK), Mark Pagnozzi (HOU)]

---Michael Pineda of the New York Yankees---

Pineda decided to use pine tar one day, kinda got caught by the Red Sox, but since the players they employ are anything but clean (and at least one of their pitchers cheated as well in the recent past) on top of pretending Ortiz was anything but juiced, they let it slide.
...Then he did it again 2 starts later, against the same team, because, well I'm not quite sure what made him think he'd get away with it twice, especially in a game where everyone was looking for if he did it again. He got 10 games to mull over his dumb choice in life, only for it to be topped off by him getting injured during the suspension, costing him the majority of 2014. Good job Michael.

...Still a good trade for the Yankees considering how much a disaster Jezus Montero turned out to be for Seattle.

--------------------------

The "Results May Vary" Award
Awarded to a player/team that didn't live up to the hype
[Previous winners: 2010 Stephen Strasburg (WAS), 2011 Carl Crawford (BOS), 2012 Los Angeles Dodgers, 2013 Toronto Blue Jays]

---The Boston Red Sox---

From worst to first and back to the worst. If anyone says the 2013 Red Sox wasn't just a happy coincidence of a bunch of scrubs all catching fire at the right time with all the right calls going their way, then point to this year and 2012 (and 2011 for good measure) as to why Boston sucks. Not since the 1998 Marlins have I seen a defending world champion suck this hard, and the 98 fish had the excuse of their owner sending all their players away. The 2014 Red Sox are essentially the same players. Jacoby Ellsbury didn't make THAT much a difference.

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The "Joe West Level Of Incompetence" Award
Awarded to the umpire who made the biggest BS call(s) of the year
[Previous winners: 2011 Jerry Meals, 2012 Sam Holbrook, 2013 Fieldin Culbreth]

---Joe West---

The fact that this award existed for 3 years prior and West never won his namesake award seemed not right. But don't worry, Joe proved just how bad he was this year. In a game where Jonathan Papelbon proved just how classy a guy he was by grabbing his crotch at some fans, West did what most umpires would do and tossed him for it. As Papelbum got in his face and argued it though, West decided to cross a line by grabbing the player. Umpires are to never be touched in an argument and to do so is a punishable offense, so it would seem like the no touching rule also applies to the umpires as well. Joe West, in thinking he was hot shit, decided that rule didn't apply to him and was punished for it accordingly. I'll echo Hawk Harrelson by saying: Joe West needs to go away.

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The "Ozzie Kind Of Crazy" Award
Awarded to the manager who had the most entertaining season to watch
[Previous winners: 2012 Bobby Valentine (BOS), Joe Girardi (NYY)]

---Kirk Gibson of the Arizona Diamondbacks---

Gibson would make a great manager for the Sandlot team...and that's it. Guy regularly wanted his pitchers to headhunt star players and enforce a bunch of rules with violence. Did it surprise anyone that once competent people showed up in management, that he'd be the first to go?

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The "Go Stand in the Corner!" Award
Awarded to the most standout suspension of the season
[Previous winner: 2013 Ryan Braun (MIL)]

---Alex Rodriguez of the New York Yankees---
Crime: Being on Bud Selig's bad side / Being able to be mentioned in the same sentence as PEDs
Time: 162 games (He got paid for the off days)

A-Rod, aka: "Everything wrong with baseball" according to Selig, was originally suspended for all this year and whatever was left of last year, but he appealed and got to play in 2013....then went about the appeals process like a 2 year old and stormed out at one point (which I'm pretty sure the appeal goes against you on principle at that point). Pineda's suspension was pretty stupid on his part, but it's hard to overlook a suspension that covered the entire damn year, no matter how warranted/unwarranted it was.

----------------------

The "They'll Let Anybody Pitch" Award
Awarded to the pitcher who should never have been allowed near a mound

---Kevin Correia of the Los Angeles Dodgers---

7-17...Guy had an ERA around 5.00 in Minnesota...the Dodgers looked at this and said "Yeah, we defiantly need this guy on roster in order to win the NL." He joined and in 9 games (3 starts) posted an ERA over 8.00. How about a K to BB ratio of 2:1?
This guy could have been easily forgettable if he stayed with the Twins, but the fact that a team favored to go to the world series picked him up and he did nothing new? That earns him shittiest pitcher honors.