deadliner(james sharples) DEADLINER

My name is Timothy Roberts, once a successful journalist for the Daily Post, now a freelance writer due to the company merging with another newspaper, no room for me apparently, this undoubtedly led to my wife leaving me for a cruise boat designer. No surprise there, she was a very materialistic bitch. I believe she emigrated to France. Good luck I say. I spent most of my life after that sharing with my brother, who I suppose had similar problems. Unfortunately my brother didn’t cope as well and I returned home to find him very ill. His way of dealing with things was peering down at the base of an empty whisky bottle. His condition worsened and there was no getting through to him. He died almost a year ago and I found myself alone once more. I decided to use my talents into recording the following events, after all, there was nothing else to do in this life.




A day like any other, a glimmer of hope as the grey shadowed clouds past the sun that drained the scorched ground. The whole day stood in waiting for the next battle of survival, the next screams to be heard, the next struggle of breath from Mother Nature, the next day we all pray it doesn’t happen again.

Joseph Sutton, a once so cheerful example of mankind and a shining character in the town, now torn into a miserable, frightened and frustrated man, begins hosing down the front of his shop. A river of blood crawls down to the near by drain from the windows and door now blasted from the hose. Passers by speed up their walk and hold their heads down some cover their mouths.
Along Tower lane, a wagon was ferrying bodies of cats and dogs, among them a few remains of human bodies to the poorly built bonfire at the near by common.

Several people in the middle of the street could be seen looking up into the sky as a flock of many birds flew noisily towards the south, not a good sign. The usual birds that fluttered around the town now absent and from a few days ago we noticed trees loosing their blossom rapidly and revealing a strange foam like substance from the barks of the trees.
Flowers droop in pity and their colour drained petals half eaten by the one surviving predator, the soldier ant.

January 15th 2015 11.00am

Newspaper headlines got worse today, these one liners they come up with are becoming tedious, today it read on the first page, “BAIT BRITAIN”.
Reading through the newspapers made it so obvious nobody had a clue what was happening. The news channels on the X Box 980 was totally full of scientists giving their testimonials and predictions on the events, basically clueless and bull shitting their way through the interviews.
The events taking place began to have an affect on many businesses; many horticultural companies began to go into liquidation as the raw materials became infected by the poison rained on us. Food distribution and logistic marketing divisions began to fold and the share and stock markets in total ruin.
This was the beginning of a total starvation and diminished mankind and nobody could give a reason why or how it started.
Looting around the main streets of town centres became an escalating issue for the police and banks became swarmed with withdrawals and even limit breakers took the gamble, in a nut shell, all hell broke loose and it’s the typical way us human beings react.

Along St. Mirries road, neighbours alerted police after hearing loud bangs and screaming sounds like an animal from number 44. Flashing blue lights peppered the buildings as the team of police stepped out of their cars hesitantly. Looking pale and very frightened they edged to the door, armed and well protected showed they had been through this before. After a few whispers between them they forced their way in. The loud banging and screaming stopped, then, gun shots fired and a scream from the upstairs, but this time a human scream, a male scream. Then another and another. Four brave young but frightened men stormed the house and in a matter of minutes, only one dragged himself out covered in blood. A woman standing on the corner with a little girl stared in horror, the little girl pointed at the foot of the policeman, a human hand could be seen attached to his foot, torn off at the wrist. The policeman responded with violent yelps and vomited over the police car as he staggered over.
Everyone in the street just stared in disbelief, and then as if they had just witnessed a public execution walked away and carried on with what was left of their lives.


Same day: 7.30 pm

Barriers and no go zone areas reinstated again, helicopters patrolled the skies like bewildered wasps at the end of season. The sun turned a blood red colour, eerie but yet so picturesque with the landscape choked with the pale yellow foam that began growing weeks ago across the dying woodland.

The few that stayed behind in their homes, began to re-board the windows for the night. Tommy Buckle began pouring petrol around the house and as he did kept looking up into the sky, he slammed the empty can down and slammed the door as he entered his home. Looking over towards the fields near Common Avenue, a dog could be seen staggering from the clearing of the woods, its head shaking and howling like a wolf. I felt so much pity for the beast and before I could blink, a police car pulled out in front of the dog and without hesitation, the policeman got out of the car and blasted the dog with a shot gun. The dog slumped down like a pile of rotten meat and then began dissolving into a green liquid, must have been one of them.

22:30 pm

Another night with absent sleep, the sound of them landing on the roof and the windows trying to burrow there way in kept us all alert.
Those that ignored the warnings of wandering the streets could be heard screaming and running to get inside, but no doors would open to save them. All TV channels were aborted and radio silence was imperative to reduce the attacks. A reduction in electrical power use was imposed at night time, so it really left all homes in a prison cell state. All we could do was let the happenings take place and ride out the storm as it were. Sedatives and calming drugs were in plenty supply to each home via courier to help the stress and fears through the darkest nights, but for some reason I wished to stay alert, not good for my system they say but I needed to react when my time was coming.
Before trying to get some sleep with the aid of cotton wool in my ears, my final task of the night was trying to kill and dispose of bluebottle fly that must have entered the house in the afternoon. Not a small task as it would normally be because due to the night plague, as we call it, this fly grew to a foot long within minutes and the killing took some time, carpet will need cleaning tomorrow.

January 16th 7:00am

Spent what sleep I could get in the cellar and decided to make a move to sort out the mess left behind from the fly.
It seemed pretty quiet outside, not the usual muttering of distant neighbours and the hosing and sweeping of the debris left behind by them. In fact, it was too quiet. Looking through the stained window I gazed across a ghost town, not a soul in sight. Across the road at the Mellings household, the whole of the house was ransacked and windows shattered, the door hanging from the hinges and a half carcass of a cow impaled to the fence of the once prized garden. The entire road was full of blood trails leading off in all directions and at the end of the street was blocked by two overturned police cars partially in flames.
A sense of solitude and fear overwhelmed me and I sat down on the doorstep folding my arms tightly, just glaring at an empty street, I have been deserted, left, abandoned and my greatest fear as come to stay with me, loneliness. The one and only fear I could do without right now seems to be the nail in the premature coffin I built in my mind over the past weeks.
I had two options, a very sharp knife I used to kill the fly with or an overdose of the drugs that was supplied to us. I knew this day would come, but as always I was never ready, but who is?

In the city centre total human count came to around fifty. Total abnormal beings, off the scale. All national buildings and medical centres in disarray. Shops and agricultural nature related properties gutted and stripped of any required needs for human consumption. All rail and flight terminals obliterated and destroyed by THEM.
The whole of the city was unplugged and ready to be taken over fully by the night plague and no one was left to stop them, it was now a rout of civilization, a desperate and dying city filled with pity and weakness, all the pedestals of mankind removed and replaced with memories and evidence of THEM arriving and taking this god forsaken world in to their world and with a so menacing dark vengeance, it seemed their success is our failure.

The Hospital: 15:00 pm

Two wards remained active only, one overworked and desperately stressed surgeon worked around the clock to salvage the patients that wandered in for repair. His hands caked in countless cases of bloodied victims passed his mind of infection, jumping from patient to patient he constantly worked and tried not to look into the eyes of each hopeless case. There were three volunteers that assisted him, relief nurses that were not in much of a good state there selves. In the basement more of THEM were growing from the human tissue thrown down the incineration passage chute, with this in mind, his work in the hospital had to be speeded up and his plans to get out and save himself were getting narrower by the hour as more helpless torn victims entered the doorway of the hospital entrance.
Looking at his watch and peering over to the PC screen for any messages, he pressed on. Another victim falls prey to the green liquid and dissolves before his eyes, another failure. He stands back and sits down on his chair rampant with blood and wipes and looks toward the entrance to the emergency unit, a look of giving up fills his desperate face, a tear falls over his left cheek and realises he cannot continue this so hard and meaningless task. One by one they enter dropping to the floor screaming and crying with pain and fear, he can only join them, hope as lost and his determination as been dragged from beneath him, he can only clean up and wait. One more look at the so happy picture of his family on the desk drives his pain to the limit and stoops over the chair, glaring down at the floor boards, he can see THEM making their way up to him, smiling, even laughing as they crawl and sliver up the staircase to the ward entrance.
Outside the hospital a crowd of people gathered strolling like zombies to the entrance, a loud scream came from inside and three gun shots, the crowd stopped and like a wave of flames each and every victim slumped to the floor, their heads falling from their shoulders as the two winged beings carrying a taut hot wire flew out from the hospital and straight through the awaiting lambs to the slaughter.
The surgeon runs out of the doorway and falls to his knees with his hands in the air. “WHY? WHY?”
Abruptly his wails of anguish stopped as the winged beings returned to finish the job.

The Library 16:07 pm

The large building stood high and with a will of strength contained within the walls of learning and teachings, it could stand the outside, dark and wild world from penetrating its doors. The last of the librarians limped down the long corridor leading to the science and technology section, three books under one arm and a bottle of whisky under the other, Gerry pattan fumbled his way to a table close to the window. Muttering in a quiet but senseless way, he begins to flick through the pages of the first book of the three. The book entitled “ The sorrow of spring”, a story by M.H Yarl. He would begin trying to find certain chapters, then quickly unfolded the next book entitled “ The Devil and all his works”. The third book, he threw to the ground as it seemed he found what he was looking for.
His eyes passing from one book to the other, became frantic and his stare into the writings caused him to sweat and become very scared. A few swigs of the whisky and his hand wiping the residue on his mouth, he began to shake with fear as he read on within the two books.
From the entrance of the building, statues of learning figures could be seen changing shade as the blood red sun began its fall for sunset, clouds of green dust in the sky gave the figures a more grim and gloomy look as they passed over. Abandoned cobwebs glittered and swayed in the breeze over the arch ways and corners of the rooms. Some books dripping with water from the first attack and some burnt and splattered with blood, many on the floor open and discoloured along with the bodies of the few that didn’t get out in time.

Gerry would begin walking backwards and forwards now, muttering more and sobbing, his sobbing became wailing and books would be thrown to the walls, more swigs of the whisky and in a thud, dropped back into the chair at the table by the window, his head in his hands “ My God, How could you let this happen?” From that moment books began to drop from the shelves, from a few to a cascade flowing down to the floor then as quickly as it started, it stopped. He looked straight up to the large clock on the wall, it stopped and the hands fell to 6, it was time to go down to the cellar, he grabbed the whisky and the two books and began his task to get down, the clock began chiming very loudly, the hands still on 6, another night of madness for Gerry pattan.

17:30 pm

I resigned from the actions of suicide and decided to venture outside, if I found something that was the answer to all of this, fine. If not then I suppose my life was in their hands.
Down the street a few others began fleeing from their homes, the barriers lifted, the posted guards gone.
Surrounded by houses that looked like desolate ghettos, I began my trek down Cross Hill.

As I entered Cross Hill I noticed that the atmosphere became thick with a new kind of smell I had never noticed before, this was a bit scary but I walked on. Underneath my feet the broken glass scattered around, stained with blood, was all that was left of the Windows of nearby houses.
The sky became darker and a lot more sinister as the day went on I knew I had to find somewhere fast.
As I approached the nearby common, the earth seemed to shift a little. Just at the side of the common, were four lock ups and a small house, I made for the house and made my entrance through the back yard.
On the other side of the gate, lay large insect wings and a baseball bat caked in blood and skin of some kind. Stepping over the debris of a violent killing, I tried the door, it opened, this was my sanctuary for the night, although I had not explored the inside as yet. I had a feeling that tonight was going to be an unpleasant one.


The Police Station 20:00 pm

From the doorway to the scanning area, the whole place smelled of burning and reeked of human excrement. In the distance moaning and yells of anguish could be heard from the cells now abandoned by the officers in charge.
Officer Thomas Armstrong was now the only man at his post, bleeding badly and drunk with injections from the medical room to calm down irate prisoners. His trembling hands re-loading the hand pistol with used cartridges and muttering his plans to escape this terror he believes as been bestowed him and must, at all costs, not fail.
Over by the main desk in a pile lay the medical reports of the remaining four prisoners on his watch. His curious mind beckons him to read through them.

Prisoner 1a (225146)
Medical report given 2.00am 4/11/2014

George Malloney age 48
Sentence 27 years confinement

Detail; Armed robbery and murder charge in the fourth degree.

Report: Consistent illusions of conversations with large dragonfly within his room.
Diagnosis: Delusion of confide space
Medical admin : 5x Doses of Micrillium Despoxide
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Prisoner 2b (225147)
Medical report given 3.15am 4/11/2014

Terrence Dean age 35
Sentence 15 years confinement

Detail; Aggravated assault

Report: Periodically self harming to remove phantom visions of large maggots attacking body
Diagnosis: Delusions of guilt
Medical admin: 5x Doses of Micrillium Despoxide
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Thomas reads on with disbelief, his hands trembled even more on the thought of being surrounded by these truly unbalanced individuals on his watch, the responsibility of this became more grave.



Prisoner 3c (255148)
Medical report given 3.30 am 4/11/2014

David Selby age 40
Sentence 25 years confinement

Detail: Multiple rape and murder

Report: Nightly visions of beings coming through the walls of his cell
Diagnosis: Override of subconscious
Medical admin: Micrillium Despoxide

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He picks up the final report and in horror realises why he was left behind with these maniacs, he begins reading…


Prisoner 4d (255149)
Medical report given 3.45 am 4/11/2014

Thomas Armstrong age 36
Sentence Life in prisonment

Detail: Multiple serial killer

Report: Delusions of innocence and in authority
Diagnosis: Failure of mind acceptance
Medical admin: None

He drops the report and stares over to the corridor leading to the cells, shadows from outside pass over the pasty walls and like spirits begin spreading out and venturing into the cells one by one. Realising that it was time and they were here again, the prisoners began shouting, yelping then screaming. Thomas raises the gun loaded with empty cartridges to his head and the gun begins clicking, he mutters the Lord’s Prayer and this was the same ritual night after night, since they came.

21.00 pm


Damn this infernal life, I scream at god once again and try to redeem my soul with worthless pretences of being the mortal he wishes me to be, But my cries land on the deafest of ears and I still find myself glaring through a shattered and blood stained view from the bedroom. I turn and contemplate at the pill bottles stacked up against the over webbed corner of the window. Could this be the moment of weakness, am I to give in to the prospects of becoming another drug controlled freak amongst this hell. I gave my decision a moment and thought, for god sake leave it my good man leave it.
I began snooping around this haven and came across photos of the people who lived here, the usual family and pathetic ruling of poses and my change of heart ruled my visions of happiness for them or even for my own. Snooping further, I came across a bottle of vodka, good brand, bloody good taste at least. Cleaning out a near by cup, I indulged with great joy.

After at least four cup fulls, I decided to get some sleep, it remained quiet outside for the moment so I took advantage of this. My alcohol intake made me more brave of the prospects of becoming the next victim and thought if they are going to take me, for gods’ sake do it now.


The next day I ventured out of this haven and made my way down Victoria road. If I could get through the debris that lay like ruins entangled with decaying trees and others that tried to escape, maybe I could get to the hospital. My night at the house proved to be a mistake as I awoke to find a rather disturbing rash around a small bite on my arm.

Eventually, I could see a corner of the grey concrete and steal building in the distance. As I increased my pace, my heart began to beat slightly faster, maybe it was the venom, I wasn’t taking any chances, I slowed down. Sweat began to trickle down my forehead and I felt a sence of uneasiness in my balance and coordination in my footing , surely this wasn’t my demise. I stopped and slumped down onto the pavement and let this awful feeling pass for a while. My vision became as blurred as staring through the bottom of a jam jar and my ears began to ring out as my mouth quivered with water, my breathing now deep and my hands all a tremble. I was ready to commit my body to god, and then, as quickly as this dark feeling of dying came over me, it left. My organs began settling back into order and my faculties into normality. I stayed on the floor for a bit longer until the fear left and I was sure it was sent to bay for good.

My eyes opened, god, I must have passed out. I came round to the sounds of howling and running feet, I stared in disbelief as I saw these god forsaken beings running around the streets like demons underfire from the angels of god. My body at this point immobilised and my eyes focusing on these faceless beings hurtling into one another, what the hell was going on?. I prayed to god that I could get the strength to raise my body from the floor, two of the demons hurled them selves towards me opening their mouths as wide as my head, then, gun shots, they dropped the floor like wet leather with a haunting cry, and in the distance a man holding a gun to his shoulder, the smoke drifting off to his left. The rest of the demons fled like rabbits into the near by field. The man walked a little closer to me and gave a look of inspection, then without any feeling or regret took the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I felt the splash of his blood land on me and as I laid back in horror, I thought, what is this madness, what have I done to raise the wrath of god or the devil to betray such life into this nightmare, surely pity will befall us, surely, surely, surely!.

I found myself stood at the entrance of the hospital, it was so quiet, once the breeding ground of panic, despair and anguish, now a cold, silent tomb. The once voices of screams and orders left to right from all corridors now shattered and dwindled into the distance and confined into this stillness and so hushed building. Over by the reception lay a bundle of bodies some patients, some nurses, it was like a bundle of order as if they were stacked out of the way. On close inspection I could see many of them had been bitten badly and their faces portrayed a grisly anguish. It was obvious to me there was no help here for me and without hesitation I began ransacking the chemist room for any kind of anti venom remedy. The floor was littered with empty bandage packs and used syringes, the more I used my arm to search the more I began to feel the pain from the bite wound. I desperately clawed my way through the debris and litter to find something, and there it was, it seemed the only unused morphine syringe and I grasped it like food to a hungry slave.
I was never good with needles and to administrate this to myself was going to be a challenge, I positioned the needle to the area of the bite, looked away and jabbed with an intake of breath and began releasing the drug into my system. This moment wasn’t a triumph for me, it was a despicable necessity and it was only time if this helped or damned me to a darker place, nearer to death.


I found comfort in the waiting room amongst the overturned vending machines and propelled draws from the cupboards of the reception office. The thought of trying to find peace in the wards was crashed by the visions of what may lay there judging by my reception at the entrance. I pulled a few chairs together and rested hopefully to let the morphine do its job, only time will tell. It seemed to have silenced outside and once again I took advantage to sleep a little longer, I was so tired, so damned tired.


I awoke, it was the following day, the lighting was different and the whole feeling of a new day surrounded me like a shroud. I found myself on the floor and the chairs I pulled together was now situated at all corners of the room. In my state of rest and dream like state, it seemed I was visited and deprived of my comfort zone, someone or something had yanked the chairs from me and left me to slumber on this cold floor. With the thought of being no longer lonely, gave me a mix feeling of relief but also a disturbed thought of this rise to the day. I scanned the area carefully before rising to my feet, and in doing so realised that dressing was applied to my arm, there was no pain and my curiosity to unwrap the gauze was impelling, and as a result to my surprise, the infected area around the bite was almost healed. Who was this Florence nightingale in the night and why should I take a preference to the poor sad beasts that had been created from this nightmare that I have seen to be at one time normal people like myself, well to a point.

The Motorway 9:20 am

The day was groomed with a brilliant sunshine and the dust from the air began finding solitude onto the overturned vehicles that lay scattered along the highway like mass of dead cattle. The nearby walk bridge that crossed over the motorway was covered with lifeless bodies that hung over the side of the bridge like rag dolls, all dripping blood onto the road and cars below.
Out of all this carnage, a woman seen sitting upright on the hard shoulder, franticly fighting with her mobile phone and seething with hate created this scene with uncanny disturbance. Tears streamed down her face and her voice croaked and quivered as she tried to voice the words of plea to a phone dead with no outside evidence of help to her persistent begging for help.
Then, from the wreckage of black Volvo estate, rose a small young girl. The zombie like creature staggered slowly towards the woman. The woman turned and stared helplessly at the child and began to rise to her feet dropping the phone from her weak grasp. The woman walked over to meet her halfway and then froze in her tracks, as this innocent child became something else, the child took shape and her face crumpled into a dark gruesome angry demonic figure and in an instant the child fell to the ground, face first and her body fell into pieces and all the pieces forming worm like creatures slithered into form, raced towards the woman and devoured her like a frenzy pack of wolves.
When the feeding was over all that remained was a large blood smear that began to bake in the sun, the creatures found refuse into another vehicle on the highway. Silence returned to this desolate site.


The day grew into a clammy like Mediterranean feel as the sun groomed bigger with the heat. My stomach began to remind me that an appetite for food was imminent, I needed to find food before I would collapse into this heap of empty soul so stressed with the thoughts of the time ahead.
I found myself straying along Rossers edge on the outback’s from the hospital, further up the rugged path by the now dried out stream, lay a second path that split into two directions, one to the glorious park of fields and many a splendour of flowers, the other to the old church, St Nathaniel’s.
I decided to take the path hopefully to my salvation and as I got closer the view of the tall grey bell tower came into view. Through the half eaten bushes and the burnt meadows, I came finally to the clearing leading to the main gate. There stood in all its glory, the church, once the huge build of welcome arms and comfort of all fellow men, now seemed quiet and forbidding. All corners of the great structure that met with the gargoyles sprayed with thick, sparkling cobwebs and was once colourful stained windows, now tainted with blood and cracks within the picturesque visions of the lord. From the spire of the church, I looked down to the surrounding graveyard, to my horror, all graves were torn and cracked with each a mound of earth at the sides. What the hell happened here, what beings could have done this and why have these things that spewed down onto our planet, decided to not only turn our lives upside down, but also to disturb in such a god forsaken way, the dead.
At either side of the church, barbed wire had been put out to the neighbouring trees, a strange notion that god would refuse the trespass of man or woman or even a child in need of comfort from the cloth. Behind the church and shadowed by the bell tower, I noticed a large wooden like structure, but I could not make out its form and no way of getting around to find out. Instead I followed the path between the overturned tombs up to the main entrance, as I got closer, the doubled doors gleamed with fresh black paint and the smell confirmed this as I placed my foot on the first step. Moving closer to the doors, it was apparent that the rough paint job was to cover a message written on the door, I could only make out the words “your fault”.

The door unlocked and opened before I could reach for the handle and as the daylight peered into the doorway, there stood a young child clinging to what seemed a rag doll. Her clothes were torn and spattered with blood, her hair long and covered the lifeless and poor expression. Her head coward down and she stepped back into the dank coldness of the main reception of the church to make way for my presence. As I did so my entrance was greeted by a voice from the end of the aisle that lead to a large crucifix, a depiction of the death of Christ, which now looked desecrated in a truly unholy manner, probably by the same group that overturned the graves outside.

“And the LORD spoke unto Moses, Say unto Aaron, Take thy rod, and stretch out thine hand upon the waters of Egypt, upon their streams, upon their rivers, and upon their ponds, and upon all their pools of water, that they may become blood; and that there may be blood throughout all the land of Egypt, both in vessels of wood, and in vessels of stone.”
I stopped in my steps and glared at this indistinctly figure at the alter, his words echoed around the church walls as he read the holy readings of what appeared to be the beginning of the ten plagues of Pharoah. I was compelled to be seated as he read on, my thoughts not knowing were this was leading to, but his voice some how kept me in trance with his deep and foreboding sounds of the reading.

“And if thou refuse to let them go, behold, I will smite all thy borders with frogs:” His voice began to raise a decibel and the young girl ran down the aisle and found solitude behind the alter.

“And the river shall bring forth frogs abundantly, which shall go up and come into thine house, and into thy bedchamber, and upon thy bed, and into the house of thy servants, and upon thy people, and into thine ovens, and into thy kneading troughs:”
Then the book slammed shut, this figure of almighty came swiftly towards me as I remained seated like a young school boy.
“You are welcomed in this house, but I must retire from the mass and drink wine.” He looked down and for a moment paused, then made is way to the back of the church to what I would presume the vestry.
I sat there in disbelief at this ungodly affair and decided to follow him as my reason to be here was not fulfilled in the slightest and I needed answers, if not from god’s servants, then who from.
As I walked up the centre aisle of the church, I could smell the distinct odour of a rotting and indescribable ambience creeping up and around my nose, the floor began to creek soundly as I approached the end of the aisle. I passed several holy monuments cracked and tumbled on the floor, pictures of our lord scattered and torn into shreds on the floor, striding over the debris, I ventured into the vestry and found no one and nothing there.
“Father?” I called, nothing, no response. I called again, still no reply. I suddenly heard from another door within, the sound of coughing and the clinking of glass, I opened the heavy small door and to my horror saw the most uncanny and disturbing sight to my eyes. This was a vision that my brain could not comprehend, in the room I could see the priest in the corner slumped over the chair, a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other. There was a large, thick and rugged table in the middle of the room and six chairs with the same design surrounding, with two at each side one at each end and in those chairs corpses, lifeless bodies rotting and oozing with pulp and insects feeding and crawling in and out of the half decayed faces and limbs that strayed out from the shredded clothing.
These were obviously the bodies taken from the graves outside and placed into this meeting room of the dead. They were placed so elegantly into the chairs, falling from grace with their withering bodies and the stench was so unbearable.
The priest raised his head and began pouring a drink into his dirty clouded glass, his complexion in the room grew more grey and his eyes teared and red. He spoke again in that dark and deep voice like almost from his own tomb.
“And they shall cover the face of the earth, that one cannot be able to see the earth: and they shall eat the residue of that which is escaped, which remaineth unto you from the hail, and shall eat every tree which groweth for you out of the field.” He then takes a drink, he splutters and coughs more and after composing himself continues this insane sermon.
“Oh yes my son, these plagues have consumed our world and now I await the floods of forty days and forty nights, but my lord, I am prepared, my vessel awaits to take the chosen ones to a prosperous and holy land away from our horrors we have created on this land”. His ranting rises him to his feet and staggers around the room stroking the heads of the dead around the table,
my stomach could not take this much longer and I had to exit this madness, I found the nearest door and burst through it like a bull. I found my self outside and in the rear gardens of the church, looking around this poor garden of Eden soaking in blood and flesh from all kinds of creatures, made me realise that there was no safe haven from this disaster that as consumed this world like a blood sucker would do to an helpless beast in the wild.
And there, right in front of me, was a sight I will never forget, with all his sermons and his right to do good and save the world, there stood a huge pathetic wooden structure that was partially hidden from the bell tower. It was the priests version of the ark, Noah’s ark! I could only describe this thing as a mass of broken trees nailed together in a panic frenzy resulting in the most unsound and un sailable mass of rubble, the only thing that intrigued me about this wicker man, was the name he painted on the side, which was painted badly in red paint, the name he gave it was “Deadliner”.

Near by was an old rotted bench, I sat there for a while and gathered my thoughts on my next move from this bewildering home for the insane, I felt a presence behind me and as I turned it was the little girl standing at the wide open door I came through.
“How do you like your little playground sir?” she said, in the most grotesque voice, but her expression was still gaunt and she continued to look down, her eyes peering through her long stringy hair. I looked in confusion at her question to me and I felt a shiver down my side like the touch of a slithering snake.
“Playground?” I replied.
“We made all these things for you all and we have caused quite a stir, blood shed and a lot of deaths. But now the playtime is over and alas things must come to an end” she said.
The single notion that this innocent little girl could be responsible for the mayhem spilled onto our world, was just so impossible to accept, the madness crept from the priest to her was the only answer I could think of and dismissed her statement of macabre.
“Seven days from now I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights, and I will wipe from the face of the earth every living creature I have made." She said sternly.
I stared at her intensely then glimpsed over at the poor ark, I rose to my feet and and slapped the wooden wreck with my hand, “your going to need a bigger boat” I said with a slight grin,
Suddenly she spun round sharply and went back into the church and slammed the door behind her. The garden gate was ajar at the end of the path, I took a final look at the closed door and the ark and decided to leave this madness.

It was getting late and darkness came rolling its thick blanket across the skies, faint sounds of howling and screams could be heard in the distance. Another night of worldly terrors, I needed to find somewhere fast to lay safe until the wave of horror passes.
Military and science underground bunker


7.00 am

Inside this tomb of science, lay the rooms of learning and planning. Down the dimly lit corridors stood the several guards, stiff and prestige in their glory of silence with their highly starched shirts and gleaming uniforms. Further down this tomb was a room dedicated to science, a room belonging to a certain professor Lawrence saltby. Not the usual stereotype of long hair and beard, wearing the latest shirt revealing the motive of a star trek convention and the small rim glasses to look over at someone when they are challenged with their talent. But a well trimmed and groomed man with standards, in fact everything about him showed a certain authority. The only let down of his appearance, was his eyes, they revealed lack of sleep and such stress of the whole event.
He sat there hammering away at the computer and surrounding him were three large plasma screens, one showing a live shot of the world in map form. There was only Britain that showed a green flare across its land the rest of the countries seem untouched, it seemed by the codes on the left of the screen that it was only our country that was at risk of this happening. The second screen seemed to be a live hook up to the Paris biological institute, with a scientist named Pierre lemans.
The third screen was a little more sinister, this was a cctv live broadcast of a cell within this institute revealing the most grotesque creature ever to walk on this planet. It can only be described as a head of a gargoyle spliced to the body of a reptilian. It paced up and down the cell like a dog and cried out the most haunting screams you could ever imagine, now and again one of the guards would snag at the chain it was tied to and this seemed to quiet down the beast.
Going further down, the war room was quite busy, officials and military staff gaining and passing on updates of the crisis to Lt John Morrison, this was the big wig, the man with the finger on the button, the man that claimed if you cant kill them nuke them. Obviously his motives and intentions were controlled by the powers that be and the powers that be were no longer in a position to give any kind of decision, for they knew nothing and why.
It seemed we were at the mercy of confused and completely frightened, panic stricken and clueless individuals, this thing as brought down the spine of man, the order of execution cannot be planned, the salvation cannot be executed, it seemed we were doomed.

More interestingly, another room labelled STRICTLY PERSONEL ONLY, contained a man bearly clothed and tied to a single bed. A guard in the room stood still by the door. The walls of the room coated in words, words taken from the bible, mainly regarding the garden of eden and the first meeting with the devil. There were scraps of food on different plates scattered around the room and pages upon pages of drawings sketched by this man pinned to the wall, they depicted the most un sound graphics from an individual, sketches of the strangest creatures and always the sign of the crucifix within the background of this weird art. Frequently this man would be visited by the scientists and be given along with more food, a sketch pad and crayons, this man was being studied, what on earth were they trying to find out?.

Outside of the bunker were two guards one stood by the entrance to the tombs, the other stayed close to another man. This was the man in charge of the science operation, David Roberts, a great scholar in his field, degree on biological chemical and war fare, chemistry and psychological behaviour.
He paced endlessly, smoking heavily on his cigarette, looking up and down and muttering values and equations constantly like a human calculator. He eventually came to rest and sat down on an empty box of military equipment, he takes out a photo from his pocket, a photo of his beloved wife and daughter, all smiles and posed in a beautiful surrounding area of woodland with the sparkle of the sun glazing in the stream of trees poised against a tranquil site of a wooden shack. He then looks straight ahead of him and slowly puts the photo back into his upper shirt pocket. Slowly and hesitantly takes momentarily steps to a ditch, inside the ditch lay a corpse of a beast, this was no ordinary beast, this was a vision of something quite unearthly. It lied like a dog would crouch when sleeping, but its spine was bent and its legs curled like springs, the head was very large and teeth overgrown from its lower jaw and its eyes, my god, its eyes.
David takes out a pair of gloves from his back pants pocket and begins another countless examination. The body was loose from its encounter with several shot gun attacks and it began spewing the same green stuff as he moved the thorax of the beast to one side. He moved his head from side to side to avoid the stench that surrounded the carcass. Then suddenly a wave of surprise and confusion loomed over David’s face, for there just below the neck of the beast, he could just make out the spelling of a name, Judas. Was this a pet originally and somehow this god forsaken animal was subjected to the horrors of this nightmare, or was this the original demon beast spawned from hell its self.
David calls to the other guard at the entrance to help move the beast back inside, the guards look at each other and turn to him.
“I think we should leave it sir, time to go back inside”
“But I think I have something here”, David said eagerly.
Both guards turn their guns on him and again in their inferior voices say “back inside sir, we have our orders”.
It seems quite clear that all catastrophes that befell the world, once the scientific minds have ascertained and studied the situation, there will always be the element of military intervention that will take over and control with what ever means, a classic way to end the world.

Mandarins port

10.15 am

I found myself wandering from field to field, wading through the long straw of corn and using the trees to keep me covered and protected from what may leap out at me from the depths of the unknown. Moving on further the scent of sea air caressed my nostrils, must be quite close to the bay. As I proceeded my under footing changed from soil to sand and I could hear the distinct sound of gulls bellowing out loud ahead. The overgrown fields began to thin out and an open area was ahead of me, the gulls got louder and the salt air much stronger.
I stopped quickly as I was only feet away from the cliff edge that shadowed over the narrow beach lapped by the waves of the sea. The cliff edge was completely invaded with gulls screaming and flapping their wings violently, they were all staring down towards the beach with their large pupated eyes with these deafening cries.
I took a few steps to look over the edge, the gulls took no notice of my presence, they were so engulfed in what lay down there startling the life out of them. I could not make out what was scattered all over the beach, I was too far up. I found a very narrow walkway that winded down from this cliff top and began my descent.
It became clear as I landed on the sandy beach, that the whole of this desert landscape was littered with dead fish of all types and sizes. The stench grew much stronger now and flies in their large swarms were feeding well. Looking beyond this path of fowl findings was the port, maybe a way off this island of the lost and damned, but it was hard to find a walkway through this carnage, so my only way was to venture around them by means of clambering through the base of the cliff over the rocks to the bridge up to the jetty.
I found the entire situation here most unusual, the gulls above me had such a large feast below them, but they seemed to be afraid of something and their cries just continued to cut through the air with a deafening screeching that now became intolerable.
I stopped in my tracks, before me was a small boat which had crashed up to the side of the rocks. A brilliantly painted half blue and white vessel, with the name ROSE on the side, its windows shattered at the cabin and the hull cracked across to the front. Debris spilled out from the deck, suitcases and boxes split open revealing supplies of fuel and other oil based containers. One of the cases had flipped open, inside was clothes and other packed commodities and I noticed an album of pictures, photos of people, children and what seemed the family pets. I rested for a while and began snooping through the pics, here I was, at the brink of a possible wipe out of civilization and I was looking through photos. As I did so, the gulls instantly became silent, I looked up at the cliff tops, they just stood their, motionless, silent and still, just staring with those black lifeless eyes. With just the slight breeze that ruffled their feathers, they remained still and I swore, positively focused on my actions. One of the photos stood out from the rest, it was a little girl, I was sure I saw that girl before, I did! , it was the girl from St Nathaniel’s, I was sure. I did not believe in coincidence, but this was uncanny, maybe she was rescued by the priest from this wreckage or even she scrambled from this disaster to seek help from the nearest place she could find, however this happened there was no sign of anyone else aboard this little titanic and as I looked again up to the cliff tops the gulls were gone.
Looking beyond from my position, the whole bay was littered with boats of all shapes and sizes, a most devastating grave yard of wood and steel, twisted and cracked, the sea lapping into the shoreline sprayed upon the decks and filtered through the holes punctured into the sides of once sea worthy vessels. And out of all this carnage, no living being could be seen, there weren’t even any footprints in the sand leading away from any of these rock stricken boats, there was a silence around this place despite the hissing of the cold sea and I found it all so surreal.
The once picturesque postcard scene, was now a tsunami of destruction and eeriness. Sadness and desolation had crept in and found a resting place here, and the feeling of loneliness became to much, so I marched on to the central port in the hope to contact someone, the need to communicate with anyone, young or old, was essential to retain my thoughts and to remove the madness before that itself found a place in my mind.

Secretary of defence safe base

4.30 pm.

Terrence Cain, our secretary of defence, now crumbled to a desperate man on the phone to his wife tucked away safely in Toulouse, France.
His room was small and dimly lit by a small table lamp, pictures scattered across the single bed of aerial photo’s next to that, a small suitcase open and revealing essentials for the travelling man. A laptop perched on the table next to the phone, revealed an on screen message, “please wait for connection”. The only small window in the room was ajar and the sound of gun fire in the distance filled the room with a sense of dread and loneliness against the horrors outside.
“darling, you must remain calm, there are things you need to do and I haven’t much time , the phone connection will be cut soon, to make way for military communication”.
Sweat dripped from his forehead as he listened to her racing her words down the phone, stress and pressure filled the room surrounding this conversation, the whole thought of his life, marriage and family gatherings ending in this way made his heart pound faster and anxiety took its course to drain this once powerful man into a desperate individual.
“Please listen to me, you must listen to the authorities there and wait for news, as soon as I can release my orders to the military, I will make plans to join you, but its difficult, yes, yes, I promise I will be with you all soon”.
This was a professional liar in action, as he would manipulate the prime minister with false decisions of economic and country related actions for a better parliament, his charm and devious manner was now being projected to the only people that meant so much to him, his flesh and blood. It was obvious this phone conversation was breaking the boundaries of his sanity and was forced to slam the phone down,
This was a man full of integrity, valour and compassion for the people, now this is the man that would lie to his family and now cut them dead, this is probably the last time he would hear his wife’s voice again.
The gun shots outside stopped. The room filled with an uncanny silence, he turned to the window to breathe in the afternoon breeze, only to be greeted with an unusual creature sat on the window sill. It just sat there, staring, its wet body glistening like wet leather, its claws gripping tighter on the sill and its mouth slathered as it stared with a burning glare.
Terrence froze, the thought of calling for help was numbed and taken from him, his limbs limped and he became a physical wreck, his doom was imminent and backed off slowly to the bed. The creature tilted its head to one side and it seemed to enjoy his torment of fear as it smiled to see its prey so easy to catch.
Terrence rolled over on to the bed face down and screamed out the Lord’s Prayer and as he did so, the creature lept down of the sill onto the bed and the rest of the creatures followed in from the window. The room now filled with the beasts, the feeding began, the Lord’s Prayer after a time was un recognisable as this human body was devoured.


The breeze from the sea came down a little and calmness wavered over the port, leaving stillness at this awesome sight of so many boats wrecked and torn from their heavenly beauty that once lavished the sea voyages.
The Rose Marie, San Pierre, Marianna, the Bell and many more, now laid to rest in this salted rock and sand graveyard.
Maybe if I could reach an higher point, I could look out to sea for vessel that escaped this ordeal, even maybe equipped with a crew to get me the hell of this decrepid island. And there it was, the lighthouse, I plundered through this waste barren and made haste to this possible haven to rescue or at least salvation for the coming night.
There was a small narrow path that lead to the entrance of the lighthouse, littered with dead and half eaten seagulls and other large birds lay winged open. Prized blooms in hanging baskets scattered and smashed along the edge of the path and more debris of fish, now dried and crisp. Finally at the entrance, down at my feet I noticed a pair of broken reading glasses and a sailors cap shredded in two. The door was off its hinges and the door frame was splintered. As I entered I immediately heard the faint sound of music from above, it was coming from the top of the lighthouse, the stairs were narrow like ascending from a coal mine, dark, dingy and damp, the walls decorated in bloody hand prints and this point my heart began to up a beat. The music became louder and more distinct as I almost reached the top and the door to the small look out room was wide open.
Saturn, the bringer of old age from the popular music compilation by Gustav Holst, was responsible for the music floating into melody throughout this darkened tower. My eyes caught sight of the silver music player on the table and close by a single bed and in it what seemed the remains of a human being, now being the evening meal for a swarm of flies. I avoided the sight like the plague and moved quickly over to turn off the player and as I did so the music was replaced by another sound, a sound more terrifying and foreboding.
It was the sound of something breathing quite heavily and as if the throat was weezing with little air. I turned and in pure shock saw what can only be described as a half man half gargoyle sat up in the corner, its head drooped down and its chest heaving along with that ghastly sound of poor breathing, it was one of them!.
Hypnotised by the sight of this being, I just could not pull myself away, my mind trying to find some comprehension of what my eyes was watching. Was it dying or merely resting from its violent rampage on this unfortunate lighthouse keeper. The large lantern at the top of the ceiling was spinning, but the lights were smashed, this guiding beacon once the salvation to ships astray, now spun with no significance. The fear generated in this room was becoming too much, but I needed to find out what happened here. Is it possible the keeper of this lighthouse found a way of fighting back at these demons, or was there more to this uncanny event.
Retaining what strength I had in both my mind and stomache,I began to examine this creature more closely. No obvious signs of attack on the beast and the horrible sound of its breathing continued, signs of sweat trickled over the long pointed nose and the eyes rolled back, its mouth widening and the bottom jaw dropped to the limit. Its skin was the colour of scorched grass and the smell, my god the smell, its bodily perfume was of rotten cabbage and I found it repulsive and yet I pitted it. Its overall size was about four feet in height and had the physique of a seven year old child. Franticly, I searched the room for anything that would shed light on this, the room toppled with books, mainly topics on weather and the nature reservations, old pictures framed and maps pinned to the wall with written notes and markings over the blue seas of the plans, notes and markings that made no sense to me. Then I turned to the corpse on the bed, I embraced myself as I tried to wave the flies off the body. All that remained was the torso, partial lower back and right leg, his right arm also was attached to this devastated corpse. The arm was draped over the side of the bed, the corpse was face down, no sign of the head or the missing limbs. Looking down the arm to the hand, I noticed it was holding a brown bottle. Preparing myself I lifted the arm up to see what the bottle was, my stomach at his point stretched to its capacity as I could feel my inner intestines wretch with pure disgust.
I moved closer to take a smell from the bottle, there was no distinctive smell, it didn’t seem to be a form of alcohol or any other type of drink consumable for satisfaction. It was completely odourless and there was definitely at least two mills left in the bottle. I heard of certain poisons that contained no odour and could only, after my investigation, arrive at the result that this was some form of poison, the bottle of course was label less, so I could only presume.
Question is, did this man desperately try to poison this creature or did he poison himself knowing the beast had the better of him and could not cope with his demise in such a slow and painful death, being eaten by this thing alive.
And did this last drink he took, take affect on the beast when it began to feed, the old famous vow to the enemy, I die, you die. Instantly, as I pondered this thought, the sound of that terrible breathing from the corner of the room stopped. There was a strange silence and then another sound, like two large aspirins dropped into a glass of water, I moved over to the corner and the creature was gone, all that remained was this puddle of green slime, not even evidence of what was there, no formation, no shape, just this patch of green liquid. At a glance I was a man that could have had the answers and in a whisper of time, its taken from me in the form of decay and time, it seemed, evidence and prisoners were not what they were going to let us have power and control over.
I was a scientist looking back to the drawing board and now more clueless than before and now it was getting dark, thoughts of finishing his drink was quite tempting as failure now was becoming unbearable and frustrating, instead like a man finding the truth to all this and determined to find peace and solitude, I took a different path to my destiny, I left the lighthouse and made my way to the boat house until the darkness passed.



Parco foods distribution warehouse

11 pm

This once busy and profit booming location, lay just a quarter of a mile from the turn off to the motorway and was neighboured with large fields. Towards the gate entrance were several parked police cars, scarred with claw marks on the sides and splattered with blood from the smashed windscreens to the bonnets.
The property was at a disarray with smashed windows and boxes scattered over the yard entrance and over by the parked commercial vehicles lay the bodies of several men mutilated and ripped open like ripe melons.
The demise of the police force and the drivers were possibly caused by the phenomena that had befallen to us, but the rest of this destruction was most definitely caused by us, the human race. Looting became ripe and we acted like animals, the total animal like of abusing the situation we was in. possession of this evil force took a hold on the people and they reacted without pity and remorse for our fellow man, it was a one for all execution to gain what we needed to survive and to hell with the consequence. Out of all this upheaval, a young woman emerged from beneath a car parked by the main doorways of the reception. Her body carried the wounds of the whole devastation, her face scarred and bloody and she walked with a limp as she tried to open the doors to the entrance of the building.
Suddenly a voice called to her as she tried desperately to open the door.
“Don’t go in there, come with me, you will be safer”
The woman turned to see the little girl with the ragged doll. “My god!, little girl, you need to get inside with me, quick!” she replied.
The little girl just looked with her head tilted to one side, looking very confused. The girl spoke sternly this time.
“You must not go in there, creatures from my little playground are still inside, again I ask you to come with me”.
The woman breathing heavily between panic and confusion to the girl’s behaviour built up now to an outburst. “What are you talking about?, get in here with me now, I promise you we will be safe and I will protect you”.
The little girl slowly stepped back up the grass embankment and pointed to the woman and cried out to her,
“Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the animals!
You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.
And I will put enmity between you and the man, and between your offspring and his; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel."
Then within an instant, the girl was gone. The woman carried on tackling the door and at the same time was transfixed where the girl was stood. For a moment she stopped fumbling the door handle and looked down to the floor, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The woman then with a mighty push with her shoulder, forced her way into the entrance.
Inside, she stumbled to the floor and closed the door behind her with her foot, she raised her head and was facing the reception office, her thoughts on getting to a phone was her priority, she rose to her feet and began her desperate search.
Inside the office, everything was clean and tidy, all paperwork in neat piles and files stacked like soldiers on the shelves, the down side was the computer was down and the phone system was cut dead. The woman sat down on the swivel chair and pondered on the day she arrived as a representative for a product recall called in from her company in St Ives. One minute, the day was like any other, the next, all hell broke loose of which she can never understand. All she knew now, was that she had to stay inside and search the place to make sure there was no surprises in store, the looters had left and the place was probably going to be left in a right mess and hopefully with the intruders well gone, nothing else will be lurking in this building. With this in mind and the combination of the little girl’s speech out of turn for a child, this was something she was not looking forward to do.
Inside the warehouse was cold and only half lit, the smell of lingering death hovered around the place like floating ghosts and the feeling of intense fear made her hairs on her arm stand on end. Strip lights from the ceiling swung with a high pitch screech, broken and blinking and the floor was wet with blood and water from the sprinkler system.
There were large things moving around under pallets and polythene sheets in the first aisle and the sounds of munching could be heard. Something was feeding and feeding well, a sound that could not be described, a sound of animals like hogs in a frenzy attack at feeding time. There was definitely no venturing down there, even for supplies, instead she made her way up to the second level towards the offices. At the second flight of stairs, the sound of raised voices could be heard between two men it seemed, it was becoming very violent and the prospects of facing two desperate madmen in all this travesty was unbearable and quite frightening, but contact with someone else was imperative to her to find out what the hell was going on. As she reached the door that lead to the corridor on the second level, the voices now roared like thunder and it reached a climax of violence, three gun shots echoed from down the corridor as she opened the door and the clashing of tongues ended. The sound of stumbling and a thud to the ground sent a sick feeling to her stomach, the duel was at an end and the question was now, was the madman killed or the did the madman do the killing. She prepared to meet the friend or foe and made her way to the arena of the fight with the hope she would be in the presence of someone with a sound mind to help her out of this madness.

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