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GRUEBERFEST 2007: I am Dead (550 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 1.68 on 27 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by skrapmetal (View user info) at 2007-10-03 14:32:00 EDT


I am Dead

***********

In the five years since the war and the subsequent economic collapse I fell from urban businessman to thief to raider in a gang. It's the only way we can survive these days. The cities are burned and there's no food. I used to think 'Mad Max' was a joke. I still do, but only because there's no gas. No one in my gang could go it alone, though we sometimes hear of people who do. We raid in a group, there are about thirty of us.

When I was picked up by the gang we numbered about one hundred. It was difficult to find enough to eat for all of us when hitting isolated country houses, so once we tried raiding a small community. They had more guns and a better plan, and only 21 of us got out alive. Now we just raid farmhouses and don't engage the farmers unless we have to. It's cowardly, but we eat.

This night we've camped in the woods a couple miles from a farm. It's a good camp because there's nothing around for several miles except the farm we're going to hit. There's a house and we know it's occupied because the scouts saw smoke coming from the chimney this morning. Occupied houses mean food. A couple of our guys are watching the place. We'll go in around dawn.

The plan is to surround the place through the woods and converge en masse. That usually scares the farmers so they don't fight. Or, if they do, they'll show themselves first to threaten or bargain, and we can get them with just a couple shots. I'm paired with Mike as we head around toward the front of the house. We're keeping to the woods and out of sight of the house.

I can see a couple more guys a few yards away in the darkness, a little closer to the old overgrown driveway. Awaiting the signal to advance, one of them crouched a few yards short of the edge of the woods. He rose to move a little closer and tripped over a wire in the grass! He screamed when his hands and knees and face hit the broken bottles placed in the ground. He was bleeding and moaning, and his partner was trying to shut him up. I saw the farm door close - we'd been detected. Someone cut the poor bastard's throat. His injuries would slow us down.

The signal! We all stood up and moved quickly in, watching for more wires. I heard a couple more screams from the other side of the house. We hadn't found the only booby trap. When we were all in view, the Leader challenged the farmers to show themselves for parlay. I saw a window open on the second floor and a boy of about 15 years stick his head out.

"There's no food here!", he said, "Leave us in peace."

"We saw cookfire smoke. We know you have food. You'll give it or we'll take it, but we will have it!"

The boy disappeared into the room. A couple seconds later there was a sound like a stapler and a wet 'thwack', and the Leader's head exploded. The stapler sounded again, and Mike was thrown to the ground with a small hole in the front of his chest and a large hole in his back. We opened fire on the window, running.

Some of the gang had set fire to the siding on the back of the house and come around to the front. The house burned intensely for several minutes and we thought that the boy would just burn up in there. Moving to the edge of the trees, we heard loud gunfire from across the woods. Single shots, almost in a rhythm. After five or six shots, I saw one of the gang behind a tree near the corner of the house fall backward. Another shot in the rhythm and his partner's arm was severed below the shoulder. Another shot and the next man in line collapsed with his intestines in a pile around him. The rest of the guys were firing toward whoever was killing them. Eventually the rhythmic firing stopped. I guess the shooter was dead.

Smoke was pouring from the house when the front door opened. The boy had a rifle. He hid behind one of the porch posts and started firing. I and three others opened up on him, tearing him to pieces. The door flew open again and a woman emerged. She ran away from the house, her large backpack slowing her down considerably. She was an easy shot for me. Unfortunately I got her in the chest. I thought that the bullet and blood would only have ruined some of the food in the backpack. Damned farmer woman had her baby girl in there.

The shooting had stopped and we all gathered at the end of the house that hadn't burned yet. Turns out it was close to the pantry, and we got in there to grab several day's supplies before the place burned down completely. We lost 12 raiding that place. The farmer was much better prepared than most. We couldn't find the other shooter, probably the farmer, so we just tossed the bodies of the woman and baby onto the fire before we made our way back to the camp.

We ate well after the day's exertions. We made a fire to cook with and to stay warm, since there's no one around now. The sentries we'd left at the camp were surprised to find out how many we'd lost. They didn't turn down the food, though. Three sentries went into the woods to keep watch while the rest of us slept. I dreamed of fire, and the sound of a stapler.

It was well past dawn when we awoke. The sentries were supposed to announce dawn so we could make decent progress on our trek to the next raid. They all must have fallen asleep. Several of us were told to go find them. I went east into the trees. A few minutes later I heard a shout from the other side of the camp. I ran back to see the last of our group heading into the woods, andI followed.

The three sentries had been placed in a triangle, facing each other, utterly butchered. Their guts lay on the ground atop their unfired rifles. Arms and legs, cut away with a very sharp knife, piled to one side. Torsos split apart, their chests cut open to reveal their hearts. It looked like an ocean of blood. Only their heads were off the ground, placed on steel fenceposts. Eyelids cut away, they stared at each other. I saw that one had a piece of paper stuffed into his mouth. I pulled it out, opened it up, and looked at the words written on it. "Wife is Dead - I am Dead". In the mouths of the other two were papers with words on them.."Son is Dead - I am Dead". "Daughter is Dead - I am Dead". No one had heard the sentries being captured or killed.

An argument broke out about whether the other farmer had been killed and if he could have done this to the sentries. No way could one farmer have done this. He must have a gang. We agreed that we'd best move on now, rather than stay until we were low on food again. Let the farmer's gang have the place.

With few words we went back to the clearing and took what food, weapons, and ammunition we could carry. We packed up and started out towards the road. We walked most of the day and the farther we got from that burned-down house the better we all felt. A clearing near the road, still quite far from any occupied places, served as a camp for the night. We didn't put out sentries, figuring we'd be safer in a group. We slept close to the fire. A few others stayed awake, backs to the light, watching out.

It was about an hour before dawn when I heard the stapler-thwack sound. I thought I may have been dreaming it again, but when I opened my eyes I saw blood, bones, brains. I could hear screaming and moaning and that stapler-thwack. Some of the gang were standing, trying to run. Others were crawling or lying motionless. I heard a sizzle and smelled burnt hair, and I knew it was one of my gang that had fallen into the fire. I jumped up and ran for the woods, firing my rifle ahead of me. There was screaming and begging from the camp, but I didn't stop. I ran into the woods as fast and far as I could.

Panting and hiding under a fallen tree, I waited for dawn. With the light I'd be safe to leave and take to the road. I'd head back west toward the remains of the city. Perhaps I could join one of the small farm communities we'd passed around.

When the sun had risen and there was enough light to see, I looked around and stood up. I thought of going back to the camp to see what had become of the rest of my gang, but there was no sense in that. Looking west, I took three steps before I felt a knife at my neck. Then a rope. The rope tightened.

It was twilight when I woke up. The stink of blood in the air assaulted me. Opening my eyes, I could see that I was back in the camp. The fire was out, a partially burned, headless body lying on the wood. I was upright, tied to several steel fenceposts. More fenceposts were placed around me, forming a circle. Each fencepost was topped with the head of one of my gang. Some heads were intact except for the sliced-away eyelids, some were smashed or shot, some were mutilated, lacking eyes or ears or nose or scalp. In each mouth was a piece of paper.

I heard a noise behind me, but I could not see what made it. Then the knife that had been at my throat appeared in front of my eyes. It was caked with blood and dirt. A man stepped into view. He had several handguns and a number of knives, a couple rifles and a silenced carbine. That was the stapler sound, I realized.

He gestured over his shoulder with a thumb toward the rest of the gang, all dead. "You, with two of them, shot my son. It was you alone that killed my wife and daughter. I saw it." he said.

I started to reply, "I..."

"I saw it." He looked around the camp, then back at me. "My wife is dead. My son is dead. My daughter is dead. Because of you. And because they are gone, I am dead too." After a time, he said, "My family died quickly, with honor, defending their home against you and your kind." Motioning around the camp with a hand, he continued, "These men did not die quickly. Your sentries did not. Your kind will not." He paused, staring at me. "You will not."

He held up a piece of paper, on which he had written a few words. He said, "Read it."

Bile rising in my throat, I read the words silently and looked at the bloody ground. He said, "Read it aloud. Shout the words so my family can hear you!"

Quietly but audibly, I said, "I am Dead". He raised the knife.

*****************








**OK, here I was going to add that pic of ETS with the knife, but I couldn't find it. Y'all know what it looks like.**






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User Reviews


Submitted by bruzwuld (user info) at 2007-11-10 12:48:15 EST (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-10-07 14:11:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

There was enough bloody imagery to fit the genre for me. Ace.

Submitted by ColchesterDr (user info) at 2007-10-07 13:13:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

I like this about as much as the other guy you're up against.

Both pretty good.


Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-10-06 22:37:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2


I wasn't sure about this so I read it twice. And decided it is +2 material.


Submitted by zwerg (user info) at 2007-10-04 08:44:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

nice

Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2007-10-04 08:34:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Fucking awesome.

Submitted by PhillipTheGreat (user info) at 2007-10-03 21:03:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2007-10-03 20:03:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Be sure to thank andy.

Submitted by ahumblefool (user info) at 2007-10-03 17:41:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

round it out

Submitted by EatMeCompletely (user info) at 2007-10-03 17:41:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by ahumblefool (user info) at 2007-10-03 17:41:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

This was good, and I had to read it three times before marking it, I will rate this 1.5. The main reason is; to me, it was not horror, it was a pirate story. Yes, a pirate story in an apoplectic world, but it did not build up a sense of terror, or horror. The bad guy gets persecuted in the end; I could not feel any fear or helplessness for the gang. Sort of like Assault on Precinct 13 or a Steven Segal flick.

Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2007-10-03 17:28:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

cut off eyelids....urk.

Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2007-10-03 17:03:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

The family... the love... the people doing things together. It's just like Seventh Heaven. Post apocalyptic Seventh Heaven.

Submitted by triangle_man (user info) at 2007-10-03 16:55:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

finally cleared the phones...good one
oh and fuck the BATF
just in case they're watching

Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:51:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:41:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:01:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:41:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good storyline development, good dialogue, gruesome and bloody...not really SCARY, per se, but definitely gory. A +2 for you.


Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:41:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by vexx (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:30:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:01:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:41:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good storyline development, good dialogue, gruesome and bloody...not really SCARY, per se, but definitely gory. A +2 for you.

Submitted by ELG (user info) at 2007-10-03 15:00:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by TechnoRatty (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:57:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

wow.. pure class!!

Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:51:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:51:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

OH my God this is the best yet! I think that ETS pic is in an old UberDirectory, maybe 2006.

Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:49:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I love this kind of fantasy.

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:47:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:41:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good storyline development, good dialogue, gruesome and bloody...not really SCARY, per se, but definitely gory. A +2 for you.

Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2007-10-03 14:32:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I'll admit that I was a bit stumped for a story line to go on top of the title that TTOM gave me. I did what anyone would do: I asked a professional. When it comes to scary shit, I think immediately of My Psychotic Friend Andy. I gave him the title and asked him to give me the bones of a story line to write up. He did. Actually, what he wrote may be scarier than my story, so I'll include it here in the reviews. Reading it, know that Andy has a family and lives where there is shallow clay.
----------
....and economic collapse forces large groups of people from the cities...
they wander around the countryside like wolves avioding small intact communities that might put up a fight.
...They raid outlying areas....
The father of the house is out helping a neighbor...hears shots(big bullets...not .223)
He runs home , or almost home to see his house being turned inside out and his family dead(you can get as graphic as you want, i wont tell you what I see) out front(through his scope).
After dark he slides into the raider's camp, with something shiney and pointy.
He'll have to cut stakes in the morning to put the heads on.
He might not live till morning.
as many as he can take alive will ride the one legged horse....steel fenceposts will work in this clay.
"I am dead"...and the rage keeps him going...
--------




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