I have a lot of story ideas, so whenever I write, my notes always get clogged up with stories that I don't think I'll ever finish. So I'm going to post most of them here (a few are a little... Racy, we'll call 'em), and which ever is most liked I shall continue. Deeeeerp. Some might be really long, but bare with me.
Re: An *** ton of stories 1) a shit zombie story I live behind the Great Wall, which you think would be protected completely. No criminals. But here in the South Side, any sort of thieving or such, which there is a lot of, results in a little contest of worthiness in the Pits. The Pits are basically a 15-foot deep hole in the ground, 30-feet wide, and they just throw you in with a zombie or two. Of course, you can volunteer to go into the Pits- my dad has been doing it professionally for a long time now. He hasn't told anyone else, but before they built the Wall and some sort of government came back to what used-to-be-the-USA-but-is-now-Kale, he was bitten without ever turning. He makes me lock him in his room at night and lock the front door, just in case he ever does turn. But I doubt he ever will. I work at the Pits, cleaning zombie's cages and preparing contestants. It was an easy job, I never used to deal with zombies. But I was promoted to taking zombies in and out of their cages, transporting them to the Pit to fight. It was scary at first, but I got good at in time. But accidentally letting even one loose is not to be forgiven. Since I knew how to handle zombies, they weren't going to bother with the Pit. They were sending me over the Wall- and right now, I was sitting in a holding room with a few unlucky others and my dad, crying. "I don't wanna go." I whispered. "No one can take back your mistake- people died, Hanna." my dad moved my bangs from my face. My long hair was in it's usual French-braided-pigtails. "Mistake, daddy. Mistake." I whispered again, pulling away from him. His jaw tightened. "I tried. They wouldn't let me go with you, not the best fighter in South Side." he tried to pull me close. "the best fighter should've been protecting his daughter." I walked to the other bench and straightened my shirt- one of my favorites, it went off my shoulder slightly and I wore it when I handled zombies. My gloves were dark brown with blood stains, and my shorts were just Jean shorts. My shoes were made of the same material as my gloves- and also blood-spattered. "get in there, damn kids." a guard shoved someone inside the holding cell. "you two are late as hell." My heart lifted when I saw Brant- we had known each other since he started working at the Pits, working the refreshment stand. He had longish blonde hair and gray-green eyes, and he was two years older than me. With him was his twin, who was his polar opposite. Black hair and eyes, and he looked like a beanpole. "into the car." the guard pushed down on my head so I didn't hit it as he shoved everyone into a car. There were five of us, Brant and his twin, me, and two other guys who looked about ready to throw us to the zombies. Once we reached the gate to the Beyond, we were given bats or clubs, and a gun with one bullet in it. "I think you know what that's for." the guards chuckled, trying to find humor in their sad job. They pushed us out of the car and I stood as close to Brant as I could, bot wanting to be by the men who were ready to kill me and take my weapons. "Alright, OPEN!" one guard shouted, pointing his gun at the entrance. There weren't any zombies at all in front of the gate, so one of the guys stepped forwards and checked both sides. It was safe, so he started running for the highway. His friend quickly followed. I was next. I looked both ways and deemed it safe enough, and hesitantly walked out towards the highway. There was only one road, and I wasn't going to stray until I reached ICC. ICC was on the west side of the country, a place where you were basically free, excluding the fact you had to serve on the army for four years. "Hanna!" Brant and his twin caught up to me. "can we travel together?" he smiled. "I'd love to." I blushed. "what's his name?" I gestured to the dark haired boy who was with us. "that's Johnnycake. Like the old, old book, The Insiders? I don't know, our mom was a librarian in the Before." Brant looked around as we ran for the road. "there's a car over there. Maybe we can use it." Johnny's voice was deep. "do you know how to drive?" I asked, my throat dry. "the old arcade teached me how to, there's a video game..." I looked at Johnny. "it teached you? Wasn't you mom a librarian?" wouldn't a librarian have corrected any improper grammar? "she didn't when we were young. Let's go." Johnny ran for the car. Brant and I were quick to follow. When we caught up to Johnny, he was staring at the car. "what's wrong?" Brant asked, looking around and under the car. "try looking in. I can see it has gas, but there's a little... Err... Problem." I looked in and a red eyed girl stared back. Her fingers were chewed off and so was half her left arm. She tried to hit the glass to get at us, no blood coming from any wounds. "we'll do this fast. I'll shoot her, then we get in and go. No waiting, got it?" Brant ordered. We got into position. "ready... Set... In!" Brant shot the girl and I dragged her still moving body from the car. I opened the back door and got in as Johnny started the car and did whatever you do to drive. Brant let out a shaky laugh and I wiped my hands on the seat. Everything had been a blur. I had only just been in Kale. I had just been within the safety of that wall. It was so demented, leaving us out here to somehow make it to ICC or die. But there were small colonies, small towns, still living, almost untouched by the infection. They had killed anything trying to get in, killed any infected, just to keep their little towns. How stupid... I thought. Just pick a damn side to hide behind... I almost shit myself at a little girl zombie.
Re: An *** ton of stories 2) a shit 'don't tell' story It was my birthday when either the end or the beginning of my world started. I was playing something on my computer when a message popped up. ANONYMOUS said; Hiya Dylan! Just wanted to pop in for a little... I don't know really, maybe blackmail. Who knows? Anywho, thought I'd start with something easy. Go drown your soon-to-be sorrows in that tub of ice cream before your sister gets to it... I would hurry. There's something of yours in it- small compared to what I have, but it would still ruin your life. Remember that flashdrive full of... Well, you know. Go get it, and plug it into your computer. have fun(;! I jumped a little at the mention of the flashdrive. I quickly checked the place I had last seen it, and ran downstairs. Was it really in that ice cream? "what the heck is this?" my sister's friend pulled the ice cream-covered flashdrive from the her bowl, as the other girls looked at her oddly. I ran up and grabbed it from her hand and rushed back upstairs before she could ask questions. I plugged it into my computer and opened the only file left on it. It was a note, written under the title 'Party time!' Woah! Lemme guess, just in the nick of time? Be faster. No time to react to new notes. Heard about Kay Miller's party tonight? Go have a drink... And take the girl's favorite earrings. You know, the one she always wears? Didn't you need some money? have fun(;! I stared at the note. There was no way I could get to that party. I didn't have a car, and everyone I knew (George and Stephen) were at home playing some game. How did this person know I needed money? I had to pay back my parents because I crashed the car, and I couldn't get a job. It was incredibly hard, finding a job. I sighed and went downstairs, and grabbed my jacket and my backpack. Time for... I didn't even know. "what do you want?" Kay eyed me, probably asking herself why I was on her porch. "um... I came for the, uh, party." I flipped my hair and tried to look like I belonged inside, dancing with drunk girls that were way out of my league. Kay looked at me one more. "whatever." I walked in after her and went to the kitchen to get a drink. The only other person in there was Virginia Smith, the school's wild child, chugging a can of beer. "why are you here? Kay actually let you in?" Virginia looked at me skeptically. "or did you sneak in?" "uh, Kay let me in." I rubbed the back of my head. She stared at me. "you don't look like the party type..." she fixed her neon pink hair with a compact she pulled from thin air. "uh, I'm not. I have to get something..." I looked at her torn pants. They were tight as hell. How did she get her foot through that?! "I'll help you find it. What did you need?" I looked up at her. "are you kidding me?" Virginia was not known as a nice person. "nope." she popped her lips at the P. "this party sucks balls anyway." she hopped off the counter. "I... Uh... Need one of Kay's earrings..." I mumbled. Virginia laughed. "why?!" "I just need it. Are you going to help or not?" I was getting impatient. "calm down, bro. Wait here." I waited for about five minutes before there was a loud scream and Virginia ran through the kitchen. "go, go, go!" she pushed me out of the kitchen and through the living room. I turned My head and saw Kay pointing and yelling at some girl, blaming her for the missing earring. "holy shit, that was intense. Here." Virginia handed me the earring and shoved me onto some bike. "hold on." Virginia started the motorcycle and took off, heading for who knows where. We stopped sometime later at a coffee shop. "the people here are chill. We can talk about why you need that earring in quiet." Virginia parked her bike and took me by the hand into
Re: An *** ton of stories 3) a shit love story He was terrible. With dark hair and crystal clear blue eyes, he was a sight for sore eyes. Suddenly, with a beautiful explosion, his laugh boomed across the room, almost louder than the Christmas music and chatter amongst colleagues. His teeth when pure-white, completely straight, pearls of unhappiness. His suit, a beautiful Amari piece, positively envied by any other man in the room. "still thinking about him?" an annoying voice, belonging to a coworker of mine, Cindy, squeaked in my ear. "I really think I hate him." I replied, watching him take a drink of his drink, his throat bobbing up and down as he drank. "hmm. Too perfect? I'd eat him up." Cindy said, trying to do a Secksy growl as she lifted a claw- I mean, hand. "I really hate writers like that." I put my warm hand to my cold cheek, searching for warmth. "really? Your writer, Sydney, I think, is definitely trying to get in his pants." Muttering under my breath, I stormed over there to capture my writer and hopefully her manuscript, angry at the man with good looks and probably no talent. "Sydney..." I said, with fake Christmas cheer. "I wanted-" "oh, come to wreck the happiness, editor-person?!" she said, hitting my arm lightly. "I'm kidding, my manuscript is..." and with that she disappeared into a crowd of people, the group if editors and writers laughing at her antics. "I swear, all she ever does is run off when I need her work. She'll get me fired!" I said, putting my head into my hands. "well, I'm always looking for a better editor! Mine always forgets to pick up my writing." Mr. Perfect said, his laugh jingling through the rest of our laughs. "I'd better track her down. Toodles." I muttered, disgusted at the very thought of having to read what he wrote. *** "Cindy, never let me drink again." I said, coming into work the next morning, holding Sydney White's next book. It was a beautiful manga of modern fairy tales, which, even a bit overdone, was great. The main character was the frog from The Princess and the Frog who had found his princess, who made him beautiful, and was suddenly a prince charming looking for his Sleeping Beauty. I enjoyed every minute of reading it. "maybe, baby." Cindy is a big fan of rhyming, seeing how she works in the Children's section of our building. The layout of our work couldn't have been more flawed. Mangas, comic books, dirty romance novels, and children's books on floor three, cooking, how-to, and fantasy books on two and all the others spread between one and fifteen. "oh my, what book have you gotten today?" I said, peering over my shoulder to my oh-so-luscious friend, Lyric, gleefully reading whatever romance novel she got today. "Pirates, kiddnapping, and rum!" "Oh my." Cindy said sarcastically. "you have a hot date last night? You weren't at the party." I said, looking at the front page of her pirate filled manuscript. Lost At Sea by Ethan Flemming. Hm. Sounded lame, I thought. "oh, Will took me out." she said, sadly. "and no, no proposal." "I'm sorry- Hello, Cynia Robert speaking." I said, rushing to answer my phone. No time to console Lyric, so I'd do it later while fixing mistakes Sydney made. A familar (and perfect) voice made me cringe, and shudder. "you free tonight, Cynia Roberts?" he said, mimicking my tone. "Well, Cynia Roberts might be, but Cynia Robert isn't. Good day." I hung up before I could shake any more. He was terrible.
Re: An *** ton of stories 4) a shit vampire story First of all, the body was still warm when I pulled it from the back of my truck. He still had blood coming from his mouth, and his eyes were open. I shied away from it, grossed out. "****in' disgustin'." Tony said, helping me push it over the cliff. "it was worse then usual..." I mumbled, knowing Tony would hear the smallest noise I made. Tony was a vampire, and I was his fledgling. The body we had just discarded was another werewolf- the mangy pests wouldn't stay out of town, so we killed them as they came in. Tony had other fledglings, but I liked to think he liked me best. I killed most werewolves, and he fed off of me most often. "shit..." I heard him mumble, another ar pulling up beside us. "what are you youngin's doin' out so late?" the cop said, eyeing my bloody shirt. "fuck, I just want to get some sleep." Tony said, walking forwards and decapitating the pudgy man, before lifting his car and throwing them both over the ledge. "I'll drive." I said, hopping into the car, my body almost covered in the wolf's blood (although some was my own). The ride back to Tony's house was fast, but we did make one quick stop at a store to get me some cheap new clothes. Somewhere in the back of the house, I could hear Annabella, Tony's extremely slutty girlfriend, singing. "I'm going to eat her if she doesn't shut up." Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose and walked to the back, not fulfilling his promise of death to that bitch.
Re: An *** ton of stories Thank you- I had lots of stories here, but for some reason, all my posts disappeared...