Doubt The Rabbit
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Cleaning out my flash drives and deleting dropped stories, but thought I'd share a couple of my favorite bits. There might be more posted if I don't feel like they're utter honeysuckle.
Anyway, these two are from a dropped project "Headland," a story about a girl from a small town contracting a disease from an infected bug, and how her whacked-out neighbors react to her.
The first passage is an alternate beginning that got dropped and would have been moved towards the end. The members of the small town has been quarantined in a giant warehouse where they are to be euthanized to stop this disease from being spread.
“Let us out of here!”
There were still a few among the prisoners with some vigor left in them and they made sure to milk it to the very last drop. Raw, savage cries ripped the throats of those condemned. They morphed into a miserable retching when a vulgar mix of blood and stomach acid would bring them to their knees and pour from their mouths and stain the cold, hard cement. Then, they would stagger back to their feet and cry out again while their clenched fists attacked what felt like a pair of steel doors at the edge of the pitch black space.
“Don’t waste your breath. Just wait to die.” One man’s haggard voice could be heard a short distance away.
Even further away and completely overtaken by the thunderous rapping were the terrified sobs of another small group. They remained huddled in a corner somewhere with their hands folded, hoping—pleading—that prayer would save them.
This bit describes one physical effect of the disease (a nasty rash). I just like the description. It's made a few people's skins crawl.
Maggie’s hand dropped to her side as she turned and walked towards the direction opposite to her house, but once she’d gotten a safe distance away from her parents’ view, her fingers inched back up to her cheek and clawed away at her rash. She could feel the papery skin tear beneath her nails. When she brought down her hand to examine her fingers, they were dressed in blood. Still, her cheek itched nefariously.
She continued to tear into the side of her face without thought for the twenty or so minutes it took for her to reach the drugstore at the end of the main street. By the time she opened the metal screened door and listened to its bells jingle a sweet announcement of her arrival, blood and puss covered her cheek and dribbled down her neck to form a tiny puddle in the dip of her collarbone.
Betty, the pleasantly plump shopkeeper who seldom left her seat behind the cash register, all but screamed when she saw the girl walk in. Even if she had screamed, the Mr. Goodbar sandwiched between her lips would have muffled it.
"Maggie! What happened to your face!?"
Anyway, these two are from a dropped project "Headland," a story about a girl from a small town contracting a disease from an infected bug, and how her whacked-out neighbors react to her.
The first passage is an alternate beginning that got dropped and would have been moved towards the end. The members of the small town has been quarantined in a giant warehouse where they are to be euthanized to stop this disease from being spread.
“Let us out of here!”
There were still a few among the prisoners with some vigor left in them and they made sure to milk it to the very last drop. Raw, savage cries ripped the throats of those condemned. They morphed into a miserable retching when a vulgar mix of blood and stomach acid would bring them to their knees and pour from their mouths and stain the cold, hard cement. Then, they would stagger back to their feet and cry out again while their clenched fists attacked what felt like a pair of steel doors at the edge of the pitch black space.
“Don’t waste your breath. Just wait to die.” One man’s haggard voice could be heard a short distance away.
Even further away and completely overtaken by the thunderous rapping were the terrified sobs of another small group. They remained huddled in a corner somewhere with their hands folded, hoping—pleading—that prayer would save them.
This bit describes one physical effect of the disease (a nasty rash). I just like the description. It's made a few people's skins crawl.
Maggie’s hand dropped to her side as she turned and walked towards the direction opposite to her house, but once she’d gotten a safe distance away from her parents’ view, her fingers inched back up to her cheek and clawed away at her rash. She could feel the papery skin tear beneath her nails. When she brought down her hand to examine her fingers, they were dressed in blood. Still, her cheek itched nefariously.
She continued to tear into the side of her face without thought for the twenty or so minutes it took for her to reach the drugstore at the end of the main street. By the time she opened the metal screened door and listened to its bells jingle a sweet announcement of her arrival, blood and puss covered her cheek and dribbled down her neck to form a tiny puddle in the dip of her collarbone.
Betty, the pleasantly plump shopkeeper who seldom left her seat behind the cash register, all but screamed when she saw the girl walk in. Even if she had screamed, the Mr. Goodbar sandwiched between her lips would have muffled it.
"Maggie! What happened to your face!?"
. Yes I am so grossed out!!!! Lol about the skin rash thing ewwwwww like ewwwwww ewwww....I think about ganger yuck yuck. You definitely succeeded with that, I'm so squeamish I had to skip that bit. Wow I need to finish this and you need to keep this story on your flash drive limitless potential, seriously.
