by Multiple Authors
Print ISBN-13: 978-0-9864831-1-0
Editor: Jodi Lee
Publisher: Belfire Press
Cover Price: $9.00
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With contributions by M.R. Sellars, Geoffrey Girard, Angela Gray, Ann Tupek, Louise Bohmer, Brandon Layng, Bruce Barber, Camille Alexa, Jeff Parish, Kevin J. Hurtack, Donna Shelton, and David de Beer, Case Files by Rhada McKai and Jodi Lee with an introduction by New York Times Bestselling author, Alethea Kontis.
Some time in 2006, two writers spoke in hurried whispers… what could cause the wretched insomnia that had taken them over, compelling them to write words of horrors never seen, only imagined? What could keep them from finishing their works, from containing the monsters within, from binding them with one simple word? How could they find their way out of the darkness they called home… into a darkness of release at Morpheus’ hands? An idea was born that night. It grew into one monster after another until finally it has broken free.
You’re Gonna Think I’m Nuts… by M.R. Sellars
“Row? You there?” Ben’s voice came to me again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m here,” I returned, the question nudging me back somewhere near center, though not completely out of the fog. I forced myself to focus on the call. “Yeah… Okay… I give up… So why am I going to think you’re nuts?”
“‘Cause of what I’m about to ask ya’.”
“And that would be?”
“Is there such a thing as Zombies.”
“Yeah, Zombies. I need ta’ know if they’re for real.”
“I think I’ve answered that one for you before,” I told him, concentrating on my reply in order to stay locked on the conversation. “There is compelling evidence that among Haitian Vodoun practitioners…”
“No,” he cut me off. “Not those Zombies. I mean like the real ones.”
“Those are real ones.”
“No, white man, I mean the actual walkin’ dead,” he explained. Being that he was Native American, he would often use that friendly jibe in place of my name. In return, I would call him Chief or Tonto. A throwback from too many episodes of The Lone Ranger for both of us as kids, I guess. The interaction had a tendency to make those around us who were afflicted with acute political correctness syndrome flinch uncontrollably – a fact we both found terribly amusing.
Something in the tone of his voice told me that this time, however, it was just out of habit rather than good-natured ribbing. In my mind’s eye I could almost see him shaking his head as he spoke.
“Well, there is also the practice of Necromancy, but even I’m not sure how much of that I am willing to swallow as fact. I suppose given the right circumstances, that Magick could be used to reanimate the dead. Considering what I’ve seen in my lifetime, I’m not going to rule it out, but at the same time I’ve certainly never seen any evidence of it outside of Hollywood movies.”
“But you’re sayin’ yeah, they’re real?”
“No, that’s not what I said. I’m saying I won’t rule it out, but truth is, it really depends on your definition of what a Zombie is, Ben.”
“Easy. I’m talkin’ about moanin’, flesh eatin’, rotting parts fallin’ off ‘em, gotta shoot ‘em in the head ta’ stop ‘em, Zombies.”
“You mean like the ones from horror movies?”
“‘Zactly. Those kinda Zombies. The real kind.”
“Those are the fictional kind, Ben. The other ones are the real kind.”
“That’s not what I asked ya’.”
“Even so, now that you have those facts at your disposal, don’t you think you pretty much just answered your own question?”
“I’m serious, Row.”
“Okay, then, see if this works. No. To my knowledge such a creature does not exist. Better?”
I was beginning to get the feeling I couldn’t win no matter what I said. I considered his response for a moment then asked, “Where are you?”
“I mean are you at a bar or something? Have you been drinking?”
“See? I told ya’ you were gonna think I was nuts. And, no, I ain’t drinkin’.”
“I didn’t say you were nuts,” I replied. “It’s just that this is a bit out of the park for you. Actually, it’s a lot out of the park for you specifically. Usually it’s me trying to convince you that something supernatural really does exist. Me Witch, you skeptical cop, remember?”
“Uh-huh. Ya’ think I don’t know how fucked up this sounds?”
“Okay, I’m just checking.”
“So, back to my question… Are ya’ sure they ain’t real?”
The turn this conversation had taken now had my full and undivided attention. Even though the fog was still drifting low about my grey matter, the current subject had cleared a large hole in it, and I was no longer having any serious trouble staying focused.
“You’d better back up a bit. Exactly what is it that’s prompting you to ask me this?”
“Constance,” he replied.