This book was a very silly project - The goal was simply to have fun and write without worry regarding the final product. If I found myself taking it too seriously, I would simply remind myself to think of “Attack of the killer tomatoes!” and get back to writing joyful nonsense.
I even incorporated some previous writing that had nowhere else to go. I did have a lot of fun working on this book. . . But the word count was way too friggin’ high!
This book is part of what I call my ‘VHS COLLECTION’
The books have no relation to one another story-wise, but follow much of the same design principles, the page count being very important. The books are designed with the idea that they can be easily read in a single sitting, in the hopes they can rekindle some of the magic I felt as a younger man wandering through the video store, nabbing VHS horror boxes based on cover art alone.
The word count was easily reduced with editing, most sequences were simply shortened, but others had to go.
Corvicious
This part was originally written in forty-five minutes as part of a fun writing challenge I did with my Dad and my friend Josh. We gave each other a single word, and less than one hour to turn it into a story. Balloonicide features a talking crow in the prologue, so I figured it would be foolish to not work this one in - but ultimately, this piece of flash fiction has no place for evil balloons, as my favorite part is the hard cut.
“Twenty-minutes, Vick” called out the man in the tacky blue suit.
The decorated crow on the dressing room table turned and nodded. “Yeah…” he sighed. “I’ll be ready.”
The man with the tacky blue suit motioned his finger upward against the side of his face. “And remember,” he said harshly. “Smile!”
Then he slammed the door shut.
Vick sighed and lowered his head and mumbled. “Humans, man…”
The aging crow looked up and removed his gold rimmed sunglasses. He saw the reflection of his tired eyes in the dressing room mirror. His feathers were more grey than black these days, but the make-up department ensured the audience would never know it. Still, he felt ridiculous puppeteering his brittle old body in the same vibrant, jeweled jumpsuit that he had worn on stage nearly forty years ago. A reunion tour, what a joke. Two of the original Corvicious members had already died in past years. Not any of the usual, exciting rockstar style deaths either, just plain old age. The other two members only agreed to the gig because they were desperate for the cash. Vick hopped over to the edge of the table (as crows do) and he poured himself a scotch. Vick took a long drink, then coughed, and shook his head. “What am I doing?” he asked quietly aloud to himself. Vick had spent his entire life on the road touring. He never settled down, and never had any kids. Worse yet, he hadn’t enjoyed to majority of his career. As a young crow, a three-album deal was all he had ever dreamed of and more - but three albums had turned into fourteen, and somewhere along the line, music just didn’t bring the bird the same joy it used to. God forbid he had to record another cheap Christmas album with some young pop group.
Vick finished his drink quickly and fluttered to the floor. He hopped over toward his suitcase to retrieve some pain relievers for his headache. As he flipped the case open, and small square of paper flew out, and gently twirled to the ground. Vick picked it up with his beak, and placed it back into the suitcase. It was a photograph, taken with an instant film camera. The quality was slightly blurry, and the contrast was way too high. A picture of the first band Vick ever played with, no fame, no money, just five birds with a love of Rock’ and Roll! Hanging out in the attic of some dude’s house who had never repaired a broken window. Vick laughed to himself, he had held onto the photo all these years for good luck, but it occurred to him that he hadn’t looked at it properly for far too long. Man, he missed those days. The boys used to get into all sorts of trouble, and playing was always a blast, even if it was mostly just a bunch of birds hanging out and getting far too drunk to produce anything good. The shows were cheap, and they always had to do their own setup. The crowds were never big, and the ladybirds were never interested in any of the band members…
…Still. Those were the best days of Vick’s life.
The crow smiled and rummaged to find the pain medication for his headache. Then he hopped out into the hall to use the washroom once more before the show. Never a bad idea. After a difficult trip to the urinal (the red jumpsuit was far from easy to get in and out of) Vick hopped back into the hall to return to his dressing room. The thought of being on stage in less than five minutes sickened him.
Before reaching the door, something caught Vick’s eye. Someone had dropped a nickel on the ground! Vick quickly scooped the shining coin, and tucked it beneath his wing. He didn’t need the money, but a crow doesn’t discriminate against shiny objects.
Another thing, less shiny, but just as interesting had caught Vick’s eye as well. On the cork board above him, a letter-sized piece of paper. It was a hand drawn ‘Battle of the Bands’ poster , covered with crudely drawn lightning bolts, and skulls - open mic at a local pub not far from the venue. The show was set for 7 PM doors…the same time Vick was set to be one stage in front of a crowd of seniors that had surely dragged their uninterested children along with them. Vick looked down the hall, a security guard was seated on a chair near the exit door, distracted and scrolling through something on his phone. Vick looked back up at the poster, mesmerized, and contented.
A series of four loud knocks banged into the dressing room! And the door flung open. The man with the tacky blue suit stormed in, accompanied by two other large men in dark suits. “Vick!” he shouted “What the hell is going on, you were supposed to be on stage five minutes ago-”
Noticing the small red jumpsuit on the dressing room table, the man quickly ran his fingers through his slick blonde hair, and let the stress pass forcefully through his lips.
In the background, the sound of cheering fans grew louder. “Cor-Vi-Cious, Cor-Vi-Cious, Cor-Vi-Cious…”
The blue suited man placed his hands on his hips, shook his head, and lowered himself to a knee, picking up the gig poster from the floor. He let out a single sarcastic laugh. “Son of a bitch.”
THE BELOW
This segment was after a short part of the book involving a yacht. The intention was to follow the ship as it sank below the water, but I found this section slowed the pace for how late in the book it was placed, and very little was gained from this. It follows to men on a deep sea exploration, unaware of the balloon situation on land. I like the idea of exemplifying that nowhere is safe from the balloons, but this still felt like too much of a stretch.
“God dammit this job sucks!” Exclaimed Bill, as he looked out the circular window.
“Yeah, no shit!” Replied Joe. “Who in their right mind would want to be this far underwater?”
Bill placed a cigarette in his mouth and flicked his lighter. “Guess that’s why they pay us the big bucks, right?”
Joe slapped his co-pilot across the face, causing him to spit his cigarette out the side of his mouth.
Bill moaned and rubbed his cheek. “Jesus, Joe. What the hell was that for?”
Joe returned a blank expression and shook his head slowly. “You were about to light up inside of this ship? This tin can-sized ship!” He replied loudly.
Bill flexed his eyebrows and chuckled. “Oh yeah, Autopilot I guess. That would have been dumb as hell.”
Joe turned his head back to the window and fidgeted with a few buttons in front of him. “Just choke ourselves to death down here why don’t you.” He mumbled angrily under his breath.
Bill smiled and waved a hand through the air, then he turned to a small device mounted on the wall to his immediate right. “Three, Two…One. We officially just broke the record for deepest underwater exploration...In Salem”
Joe turned with a grin and bobbed his head. “That’s what I like to hear! Now let’s see how well this sucker holds up.
Bill started massaging the back of his wrist with his thumb. “Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely hate being down here…” He said calmly. “…But it is pretty amazing being part of something groundbreaking…for the town of Salem that is.”
Joe stretched his back as best he could in the confined space. “That’s why we do it, Bill. Now let’s keep an eye on the equipment so we can do this proper, and get home safely.”
Bill returned a quick nod. “Right!” He said, turning his head to the monitor down in front of him.
Joe turned his attention to the levers and knobs at his finger tips. “Slowing descent speed, and engaging high visibility lights.” He said matter of factly.
Bill remained silent, watching his monitor, soon adding a surprised. “Hull integrity still holding at one hundred percent!”
Joe turned his head, only for a moment. “Are you sure?” He asked.
Bill waited a moment, checking over several readings on his monitor. “Positive. The ship is holding perfect.”
Joe ran his hand along the sides of his cheeks. “That’s incredible.” He remarked. “Continuing descent, turning lights to maximum output.”
The ship continued to lower, the light stared out into a hollow abyss, only illuminating the vague suggestion of shapes in the far distance.
After further descent, Bill raised a hand and took a sharp breathe. “Slow descent. Hull integrity showing signs of risk if we go much further.”
Joe adjusted several knobs and hit a large red button. “Descent slowed to minimum. Rotating vessel.”
The vessel slowed to a near stop, and began to turn, though the men inside could hardly tell due to the surrounding darkness.
“Look!” Bill declared excitedly, as he pointed out the window.
The men watched a strange group of slender, electric green fish swim passed the glass.
“Incredible.” Joe smirked.
The fish swam off into the distance, soon vanishing into the darkness.
“Do you see that, Bill? Down there.” Joe pointed downward to a faint shape in the far reaches of the light.
Bill squinted his eyes and leaned forward, bumping gently into the glass. “I can make something out, but barely. Looks like some sort of jagged rock formation.”
Joe played with the machinery in front of him. “Stopping descent. Proceeding forward.” He stated.
The ship whirred, and pushed forward. The shapes in the distance slowly became clear. The rock formation exposed the purplish dark inside of an underwater cave.
“This is incredible…” Bill said with a smile.
“Let’s say we celebrate our discovery!” Joe added enthusiastically, twisting to his side and retrieving something from the leather satchel beside him. A small, clear plastic bag, which he tore open at the top, retrieving two rubber flapping spoon shaped things from inside.
“Balloons?” Bill asked, looking unimpressed.
Joe nudged his co-pilot with an elbow and handed one of the yet to be inflated objects. “Come on, Bill! I know it’s not a bottle of tequila, but why not?”
Bill laughed through his nostrils, smiled and took hold of the balloon. “Why not!” he replied happily.
The two raised the balloons to their lips, and blew.
Another minute or so, and the ship crashed into the cave wall.
KA-BOOM!
THE STATION
I just didn’t want to finish this section. I only wrote it because I thought people would be curious about what the police were doing in all this - but I decided it was best left up to the individuals imagination.
THE PHONE RINGS, AND A MUSTACHED MAN EYES IT WITHOUT ANSWERING…
“Going to answer that?” Another, rounder man asks from the opposite side of the desk, feet up as he eyes a newspaper.
“Hell no.” The other replies, “Damn thing is ringing off the hook all a sudden, can’t be anything good.” he continues, taking another bite of his donut.
The round man blows some air out of his lips, unamused. “So you’re just going to ignore it,” he asks, displeased.
The other man finishes his donut and wipes his hands. “Not our problem until we hear about it, I’ll buy as much time as I can get.”
The round man lowers his newspaper, he looks fucking pissed! “God dammit, Johnson…” he states. “You’re a horrible cop.” he lowers his feet from the desk, leans over and picks up the phone. “Hello?….Hello?”
A moment, then he returns the phone to the receiver. “No one there…” he mumbles. “…odd.”
WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?
IT’S PAULS FUNERAL TODAY, FIGURED IT’D BE FINE RUNNING A SHORT CREW TODAY…WEREN’T WE WRONG.
AT LEAST HE DIDN’T LIVE TO SEE THIS MESS…
The phone continued to ring.
“Hello, this is officer Stanley how can I help” His mustache went all droopy and sad. “…What was that?”
CAMPING
This was a piece of writing I held onto from a previous project, hoping to repurpose. Just couldn’t work it in a way that felt right.
“Hey babe, can you sauce me a beer?”
Kyle called from his fold out chair by the camp fire.
“Sure thing.” Selena replied, as she rummaged through the cooler in the back of the trucks open tailgate. Then she grabbed two bottles, closed the cooler and walked back toward her chair next to her boyfriend. Kyle smiled, and stretched his arms. “Thanks” he said, as he extended his arm to grab the beer from Selena. She handed it to him, and the two kissed before she sat down.
Across from them were their two friends, Doug, and Edward.
Doug finished downing his beer then he crushed the glass bottle in his hand, and it shattered, and it was horrifying, and there was a fuck ton of glass in his hand. “Fuck!” he yelled, as he flailed backward in his seat.
Selena, and Edward got up from their seats, Kyle lowered his arms, having raised them quickly to shield his eyes from the glass shards.
“What the hell happened!?” Selena screamed.
Doug held the wrist of his shaking, bleeding hand. “Cans!” He screamed. “I’m used to drinking out of cans.”
Edward pressed his eyes shut firmly. “What?” he asked, not understanding remotely what he just heard. Doug shook his head, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “This is why I said to grab a flat of canned beer. This always happens, I fucking hate bottles.”
Kyle stood up, and pressed his hand to the sides of his skull, and he scrunched his face together. “What?” he yelled.
Doug sighed with frustration. “When you finish a can of beer, you crush it and toss it to the side. When you’re drinking from a glass bottle, you finish it, and give it a hard squeeze, but the fucking things just blow up in your hand, and then this happens.”
Kyle stormed over toward the truck. “No!” he screamed. “No, that doesn’t fucking happen, Doug. That doesn’t happen to anyone but you!” Kyle swung the passenger door of the truck open, and retrieved a first aid kit from the back seat, then he marched toward his injured friend. “Nobody breaks bottles, because they forget they aren’t fucking beer cans. And what sort of god damn grip strength do you have? That is so fucked up!”
Doug removed his hand from around his wrist, and motioned to touched Kyle’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Kyle, I didn’t mean to-”
Kyle stepped back and raised his hands. “Don’t touch me.”
After bandaging Doug’s wound, and clearing all the glass they could find, everyone returned to their seats, and enjoyed another round of beverages. Doug was provided a plastic cup for his.
Edward placed his drink in the cupholder on his armrest, leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. “So, who’s got a good ghost story?”
Kyle turned his neck uncomfortably. “Oh come on, really?” he asked.
Selena jabbed her elbow into his side, and smirked. “I got one!” She said playfully.
Edward clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s hear it.”
Kyle placed his drink down on the ground, and lowered his face to his hands.
Doug chuckled. “Damn Kyle, you look nervous as hell.”
Kyle didn’t raise his face, his voice mumbled through his hands. “I fucking hate scary shit, man.”
Selena rubbed her hand over his back, and gave him a few pats. “Don’t worry, babe. This one isn’t that scary.”
Kyle grabbed his drink and sat upright. “Alright, let’s get it over with.” He said hesitantly. “But if you scare me, I’m squeezing you to death tonight.”
Selena shrugged. “Whatever, I’ve been anticipating that since that racoon scared you earlier.”
Everyone aside from Kyle laughed. Kyle raised his hands in front of his chest and let his mouth hang open. “Woah! I wasn’t scared, I was startled…There’s a huge difference.”
Everyone continued soft laughter. “And besides,” Kyle continued. “I didn’t know we left the back window open, so it’s fair I wasn’t expecting a freaking racoon to be inside the truck. It was a reasonable response.”
Doug’s laughter picked up. “Dude, I’ve never seen anyone jump that high.”
Kyle patted his upper thigh. “That’s because I never skip leg day, baby!”
Selena patted her hands in the air. “Alright, alright. Are you guys ready?” she asked.
Everyone waited quietly, and Selena began to tell her tale…
“It was a night, much like tonight. And four friends were on a camping trip, like we are now-”
Kyle interrupted. “Oh fuck off!”
Selena didn’t turn to make eye contact, she just raised a finger in front of Kyle’s face. “No interruptions.” She said firmly.
She continued…
“The four people sat around the fire, and drank, and roasted marshmallows, and sang, and told stories. Then, when it got very late, and very dark, one of them got up to stretch their legs. They told everyone they would be right back, and walked into the woods. A minute went by, then five, then ten, and so on. After a good long while, the three left around the camp fire became worried about their friend, and called their name loudly. But heard no reply. They didn’t know what to do, should they wait, or go out to look for him. If they waited, how long should they wait for? If they went to go look, what if he came back and found no one? They decided one of them would stay, and two would go look together, just to be safe. So one friend watched the other two walk into the woods. A minute went by, then five, then ten, and so on, and his friends did not return. The lonely person became very, very worried. And began to panic. Now they were even more confused than before, of what to do next. And they were far too frightened to leave the camp, even if they wanted to. It wan’t long after that they could see their three friends returning to the fire. Excited, and relieved, they hurried to meet them…But stopped when the fire light, revealed the three, unfamiliar, and inhuman faces of the pale humanoid creatures-”
Kyle got up from his seat, and raised his hands up near his shoulders. “That’s it, I’m done.” He leaned over and gave Selena a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, I just can’t handle that sort of stuff.” He said forcefully, as his entire body visibly shivered.
Selena made a sympathetic smile, that looked more like a frown. “It’s alright. I’ll stop. That was pretty much the end anyway.”
Doug got up and finished his beer. “Well I was really digging it!” He said, then he crushed the plastic cup in his hand, and let it drop. Then he started walking toward the woods. Kyle crossed his arms and scoffed. “What, are you trying to scare me now by walking off?”
Doug chuckled. “I just gotta take a piss. I’ll be right back.” he replied.
Kyle sat back down. “You had better be.” he said plainly. Selena placed a hand on his back, and placed her head on his shoulder.
Doug walked into the woods for as far as the light would let him without stumbling around, then he approached a tree and began to pee over the ground at the base of it. He finished a lengthy urination, and zipped himself up. Then he noticed a strange sort of glowing green grub, squirming it’s way down the tree. The creature looked unlike anything else, even though it was right before his eyes, the thing seemed to be more a work of fiction than of reality. The squirming grub continued to move down the tree. It was thick, and large. It stopped just above Doug’s head height, and extended the upper part of it’s body out, and away from the tree, elongating it’s body, until it stretched to a forearms length. Doug stood and stared back at it, mesmerized by the vibrant green glow, and strange nature of the thing. He noticed the unusual, and small details covering the bizarre creature. It’s body was littered with irregularly placed thorns, and bit’s of the flesh on it’s surface appeared torn, exposing, bright yellow muscles. Doug raised his linen wrapped, right hand in front of the cosmic looking worm, and it recoiled itself. Doug smiled, and let some air out hist nostrils. “What are you?” He muttered softly. The strange being stretched out once again, and gently touched Doug’s finger tips, before wrapping itself slowly onto his arm. Doug’s face turned sour, he shook a little and motioned to pull his arm away, but the thing already manged to take a firm hold of him, even with it’s minimal contact. The rest of it’s body peeled away from the tree, and snapped itself around Doug’s forearm. Doug let out a horrified scream, and tried to tear the monster away from himself, but the creature allowed no resistance, and tensed itself tightly, and cracked Doug’s forearm in several places. Doug cried out again, his friend called his name from the fireplace. The worm dug it’s way under the linen wraps around Doug’s hand, and forced itself under his skin through one of the small cuts on his hand. Doug could feel the skin peel open and tear. Then the worm moved quickly through his body, and the last thing he could feel was the sensation of it flowing upward through the skin around his neck.
The three stood around the camp fire, looking into the woods. Doug hadn’t made a sound for the last moment or two. Kyle called out. “Doug, I’m fucking serious. Cut it out man, this isn’t funny.”
No reply.
“God dammit.” Kyle muttered under his breath. He quickly stepped toward his tent, unzipped the front, and worked his way inside, then quickly returned with a flashlight.
He flicked it on, and shone the beam toward Doug’s location. The three around the fire watched, Doug slowly stumble his way back toward them. One leg shaking in front of the other, as though he was struggling to maintain his balance. All three of them were focused on only one thing - his face. Doug’s eye’s had fogged over, exposing nothing but smoky whiteness, and a sick smile was glued in place. Everyone stood silent, and watched in horror, as Doug’s body twisted, and stretched, soon it hardly resembled their friend. His arms broke, and stretched, tearing the flesh to expose the muscle underneath. His hands extended to a rake like thing, with sharp, curled fingers.
Selena screamed so loudly. And the two boys were left frozen with their mouth quivering. The twisted shape broke into a fast sort of unnatural movement, and before anyone could truly grasp what happened, the thing had both of it’s torn, and cruel hands firmly around Edward, clutching the poor soul’s arms tightly it’s it’s grasp. It pulled Edward apart, and as the de-limbed man screamed, the creature clawed him apart. Kyle and Selena ran for the truck. Kyle pulled ahead, and heard Selena scream from behind him. He turned, and saw the monster cradle his love, as it tore into her with it’s now malformed, and extended jaw. Kyle’s mouth opened, and no sound escaped at first. Then he forced a thunderous. “NO!”
The creatures face snapped upward, and turned to look at Kyle. The creatures mouth expanded, and Kyle shook, as the glowing green worm stretched itself out from the gaping maw. Kyle turned, and hurried into the truck. His shaking hands managed to fit the key, and turn the ignition. He’s was driving before he could even register shifting the vehicle into gear. He pressed his foot heavily onto the gas pedal. The radio murmurs were quiet, but even in his panicked state, something clicked, and Kyle turned the volume loud. A man’s voice shook through the speakers. “Once again, we don’t know what they are. I believe it so be something affecting various bugs, and insects. All reports thus far have lined up. But we haven’t locked down a cause, or even -”
Kyle roared down the dirt road, and continued to shift his focus toward the radio.
“What the hell?” He stammered.
“FUCK!”
Kyle jammed his foot into the brake pedal, as the truck rushed toward a tree. The vehicle slowed, but contact was not avoided. The truck rammed itself into the tree with a hard thud, though the air bags did not deploy. The engine died. Kyle quickly turned the key several times, but the vehicle would not turn over. He slammed a hand on the dash, and opened the door.