Normally there were only seeds inside, gunk and pumpkin flesh. We would toast the seeds and make pies from the flesh before carving a spooky, crooked face into its hard side and placing a candle within to create a lantern. A jack-o'-lantern I think they were once known as; a Halloween holiday tradition.
You wouldn’t know about these things, you were born after.
Not enough people talk about before. Nor about what happened. I think it was just too strange.
That year it was different, you see. That year my brother reached in and scooped out human flesh. His own flesh I quickly guessed as the blood poured from his stomach.
He refused help and began to eat the raw meat. Dumbfounded, my mother and I watched on as he said, “Hmmm, delicious,” and continued to eat as his wound, and a pool of blood at his feet, grew.
Then, and perhaps this was the strangest part, my mother, seemingly regaining her senses, instead took my pumpkin and began to eat herself.
I shouted at them both, I screamed, angry tears streaming from eyes, “STOP! STOP! STOP!” But they carried on, ecstatically happy, eating until they felled themselves, falling face down onto the table.
So many died before word got round, the madness too contagious to contain.
It was too strange, what caused the breakdown in society. I think that is why no one talks about it. And our life before was too good, too charmed to be believed anyway.
Written for Faber Academy's QuickFic from the following picture prompt:
Before the above, I also tried with a more straight forward zombie take, and did a couple of versions:
Normally there were only seeds inside, gunk and pumpkin flesh. We would toast the seeds and make pies from the flesh before carving a spooky, crooked face into hard side and placed a candle where the insides had been to create a lantern. A jack-o'-lantern I think they were once known as; a Halloween holiday tradition.
You wouldn’t know about these, you were born after. Not enough people talk about before. Nor about what happened.
That year it was different. That year my brother reached in and scooped out human flesh. His own flesh we quickly surmised as the blood poured also from his stomach.
It all happened so quickly that word did not get around until it was too late. For me, we watched my brother die from that wound, my mother failing to stem the flow while I failed to reach 911. As her screams at his death began I returned to room to find him returning to life and killing her. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to just flee.
And that is only where my story of survival begins.
*
Normally there were only seeds inside, gunk and pumpkin flesh. We would toast the seeds and make pies from the flesh before carving a spooky, crooked face into hard side and placed a candle where the insides had been to create a lantern. A jack-o'-lantern I think they were once known as; a Halloween holiday tradition.
You wouldn’t know about these, you were born after. Not enough people talk about before. Nor about what happened.
That year it was different. That year my brother reached in and scooped out human flesh. His own flesh we quickly surmised as the blood poured also from his stomach.
He collapsed, white as a sheet.
My mother tried, vainly to stop the flow.
I tried, again and again, to get anything other than a busy tone from 911.
Until my mother began to scream the most horrific scream I have ever heard. And I have not stopped hearing screams ever since.
Upon my return I smiled at first. My brother was not dead after all, I could see him moving. An odd, jerky movement. One I would come to fear. But then I did not know.
Before I could tell my mother, I long still to let her know and stop her screaming, her screaming was stopped by my brother biting into and ripping out her throat.
Fortunately I had the presence of mind to just flee.
And that is only where my story of survival begins.
Every day since has been the same.
You wouldn’t know about these things, you were born after.
Not enough people talk about before. Nor about what happened. I think it was just too strange.
That year it was different, you see. That year my brother reached in and scooped out human flesh. His own flesh I quickly guessed as the blood poured from his stomach.
He refused help and began to eat the raw meat. Dumbfounded, my mother and I watched on as he said, “Hmmm, delicious,” and continued to eat as his wound, and a pool of blood at his feet, grew.
Then, and perhaps this was the strangest part, my mother, seemingly regaining her senses, instead took my pumpkin and began to eat herself.
I shouted at them both, I screamed, angry tears streaming from eyes, “STOP! STOP! STOP!” But they carried on, ecstatically happy, eating until they felled themselves, falling face down onto the table.
So many died before word got round, the madness too contagious to contain.
It was too strange, what caused the breakdown in society. I think that is why no one talks about it. And our life before was too good, too charmed to be believed anyway.
Written for Faber Academy's QuickFic from the following picture prompt:
Before the above, I also tried with a more straight forward zombie take, and did a couple of versions:
Only the start
Normally there were only seeds inside, gunk and pumpkin flesh. We would toast the seeds and make pies from the flesh before carving a spooky, crooked face into hard side and placed a candle where the insides had been to create a lantern. A jack-o'-lantern I think they were once known as; a Halloween holiday tradition.
You wouldn’t know about these, you were born after. Not enough people talk about before. Nor about what happened.
That year it was different. That year my brother reached in and scooped out human flesh. His own flesh we quickly surmised as the blood poured also from his stomach.
It all happened so quickly that word did not get around until it was too late. For me, we watched my brother die from that wound, my mother failing to stem the flow while I failed to reach 911. As her screams at his death began I returned to room to find him returning to life and killing her. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to just flee.
And that is only where my story of survival begins.
*
Normally there were only seeds inside, gunk and pumpkin flesh. We would toast the seeds and make pies from the flesh before carving a spooky, crooked face into hard side and placed a candle where the insides had been to create a lantern. A jack-o'-lantern I think they were once known as; a Halloween holiday tradition.
You wouldn’t know about these, you were born after. Not enough people talk about before. Nor about what happened.
That year it was different. That year my brother reached in and scooped out human flesh. His own flesh we quickly surmised as the blood poured also from his stomach.
He collapsed, white as a sheet.
My mother tried, vainly to stop the flow.
I tried, again and again, to get anything other than a busy tone from 911.
Until my mother began to scream the most horrific scream I have ever heard. And I have not stopped hearing screams ever since.
Upon my return I smiled at first. My brother was not dead after all, I could see him moving. An odd, jerky movement. One I would come to fear. But then I did not know.
Before I could tell my mother, I long still to let her know and stop her screaming, her screaming was stopped by my brother biting into and ripping out her throat.
Fortunately I had the presence of mind to just flee.
And that is only where my story of survival begins.
Every day since has been the same.
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