Zombies

Saturday, October 25, 2014

#Thanku

George Halcroft was simply going to take a look at some film written by a writer that had contacted him through Twitter only a few short weeks ago. This film promised to be packed full of blood, gore, and of course plot twists that had never been seen before. Being a producer, Halcroft had heard it all before, but there was different about @Theabomination that made him want to meet. Usually writers and directors went through a certain chain of command in order to get Him to meet with them. However, the letters, video clips, and clever sonnets that this mysterious writer was sending to him had sparked enough interest that there was no need for the interference of others.

The day of the meeting, George received a tweet from @Theabomination, and it read: 

We #thanku1 4 meeting with us. We #thanku2 for letting us into your mind. Most of all we #thanku3 for letting us in your home.

George clicked on the first # and as it loaded he noticed it was a picture taken of the front of his house.  He clicked the second # and it was an image of his living room. He then clicked the third and final #. It was an image of him sitting in his chair looking at his iPad. His heart sank, his head beaded with sweat, his eyes wide and aware. Then his front door opened and closed and the music began. A new tweet chimed from the iPad in his shaking hand. It read:

The circus is here. The abominations in our troop will b known 2day. #thanku 4 helping!

George clicked the # once again and it took him to a live webcam site that was broadcasting, live from his study. He looked closely, as his heart raced uncontrollably, and watched himself, sitting there as a group of hideous looking men and woman walked slowly towards him.

The last words he heard was: Call me Merrick.

A (Rob) Zombie Nation: Scream of the Month Edition

Peter Benchely and Steven Spielberg warned us not to go into the water. Sean S. Cunningham made you rethink your next out door getaway. Wes Craven begged us not to fall asleep.  John Carpenter reminded us that the bogie man was real, and Kevin Williamson made sure everyone had caller I.D. Now, one man has done something new; he's made us afraid of the dark. Not shadows or that moment when the sky has turned its blackest. It's the dark that could only come from a mind that is not only twisted and horrific, but brilliant and visionary as well.  

With his new movie "31"coming out Rob Zombie is paving his way as an horrific force in the film industry. Though not much has been revealed about this film, Zombie has made one thing crystal; it's going to be brutal. He is currently on the home stretch of his campaign to the raise money to make the movie his fans want through Fanbacked.com; a way for artists to raise the money for their personal projects to get off the ground. 



Every film that Zombie has created has been nothing less than living art. Colorful and dismal, claustrophobic and other-worldly; films such as House of 1000 Corpses and the Haunted World of El Superbeasto shows just how vast and limitless Zombie's creativity flows. If anyone would have ever asked me if I felt a remake of Halloween should be done I would have laughed in their face. Yet, Rob Zombie took me to a place in Haddonfield I never thought I'd go. I've walked the streets of Salem and imagined myself running into Heidi, or driving cross country secretly wishing to run into the Fireflys, if only to pick their brains for a bit.

There are not many things his characters won't say or do, and honestly I believe, for reasons other than his talents, Rob Zombie has worked with such icons in the film industry because of that. From Margo Kidder, Karen Black, Leslie Easterbrook, Bill Moseley and Sid Haig to practically the entire cast of The Lords of Salem; the amount of seasoned actors that have lent their great talent to his films is mind blowing. Of course the younger generation of amazing talent such as Scout-Taylor Compton and Scream Queen Danielle Harris have truly made their marks. But there is one woman who's taken her love of Zombie one step further, she married him.

Sheri-Moon Zombie, the living dead girl in the flesh, has absolutely left an impression on not only her husband but horror fans all around the world!  She could be walking around in Dr. Caligari, cabinet, killing cheerleaders, running from the law, nurturing a psychopath, hosting a radio show, or hunting nazis...we would still love her.  Mrs. Zombie is as much of a force as her husband. Let's keep our fingers crosses that she will appear in 31.

Though I'm not sure exactly who will be in the movie, or many details on the plot, there are two things I know for sure at this moment. The first being, I can not wait for this movie.  It's going to be one of those gritty horror films that kicks your ass so hard you start to beg for more.  The second is I just received my collectors copy of the Fangoria Rob Zombie edition. I carefully open the envelope I found at my doorstep only a few short hours ago. Taking the proper precautions, I ease the envelope open as not to damage the goods. I finally pull out the magazine with the grace of a century old vampire moving in to seduce his prey. I smile.  The artwork itself is so beautifully horrific I don't even want to take it out of the flimsy, plastic bag it was perfectly placed in.


But I do.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

My Girl: Killcast Edition

He was hungry for something more than the rare steak that sat, untouched, on the gold-lined plate in front of him. The look of the steak, though normally would have made him salivate uncontrollably, was repulsive. Even the smell that rose from the slab of meat made his stomach turn as if he'd eaten rotten fruit.  He took his pointer finger and placed it on the gold-lined plate and began to slowly push it until it dropped off of the table and onto the marble floor. It shattered into pieces, splattering cows blood by his feet.

Mr. Harrison, as he liked to be called, was not usually this fickle when trying to tame his urHe was hungry for something more than the rare steak that sat, untouched, on the gold lined plate in front of him. The look of the steak, though normally would have made him salivate uncontrollably, was repulsive. Even the smell that else from the slab of meat made his stomach turn as if he'd eaten rotten fruit.  He took his pointer finger and placed it on the hold line plate and began to slowly push it until it topped off on the table and onto the concrete floor. It shattered into pieces, splattering cows blood by his feet.

Mr. Harrison, as he liked to be called, was not usually this fickle when trying to tame his urges to eat. A rare steak was usually just right, of course only if that steak be of the highest quality meat around. Still, for some reason, tonight was different. Maybe it was the rain or the smell of wet leaves lingering in the air from the open windows in the house. Maybe it was the soft cries of the woman, caged and bound, in the corner of the dining room. 

She'd been there for three weeks to the day. Mr. Harrison usually kept his girls for five days, six days maximum, but Sherry, that's what he called her, Sherry was special and she smelled delicious to boot.  Sherry was like no other girl that had ever crossed over his threshold and into his heart. Over the past few days he contemplated keeping her, but his urges grew minute by minute, second by growling second. He was hungry and the cold meat on the floor wasn't going to suffice. 

He cleaned the area of the table where he sat and then abruptly stood up, tightly pushed his chair against the table, walked over to the cage and knelt down. "Don't scream and I won't hurt you." He said, knowing that she would, and knowing he was going to, but loved offering the option. Where would the world be without manners?  None the less, Mr. Harrison unlocked the cage, gently caressed  his hand across the woman's face, grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the bars, knocking her unconscious.

When she woke she was naked, tied to the table by her ankles and wrists. She was unable to move her limbs, and when she tried to  mover her head she realized she couldn't move her neck.  
"It's all normal, a reaction to the chemicals I gave you," Mr. Harrison said as he loomed over her body. "You were so specially Sherry, so special and I must apologize for taking a liking to you. If I hadn't you wouldn't have been locked up for so long." He stopped speaking. "I digress." Mr. Harrison smiled down at her and then left the dinning room.

The sounds of a knife sharpening echoed through the dinning room, if she hadn't been aware of her future before, Sherry was well aware of it now. He walked back in the room with a grin on his face and a fork and knife in the other. His stomach growled with delight and his eyes widened as tears began to pour from her sockets. He walked to her side and caressed her stomach with the tip if his fork and then with his index finger. Her skin was warm and wet, the temperate and texture Mr. Harrison preferred when starting his meals. 

The first cut began at her navel and ended right above her breast. He could see her heart through her skin as he watched the blood flow out of her. She cried harder, but not because of the pain, she couldn't feel anything anyway, she cried because he was going to make her watchin him eat.  Sherry prayed for death, and with every bite he took it couldn't come sooner.  He cut the pieces of flesh from 
her body as if he was making love. Sensually chewing, he moan with absolute pleasure, taking his time swallowing every morsel in his mouth.

Sherry,  soon after Mr. Harrison began to make his next cut, died quietly, he had never even noticed. Yet, though she may have died, he was far from being finished with her.  There was so much more to eat, and so any please yet unventured.  He was going to take his time with her,ges to eat. A rare steak was usually just right, of course only if that steak was of the highest quality of meat around. Still, for some reason, tonight was different. Maybe it was the rain or the smell of wet leaves lingering in the air from the open windows in the house. Maybe it was the soft cries of the woman, caged and bound, in the corner of the dining room.

She'd been there for  two weeks  to the day. Mr. Harrison usually kept his girls for five days, six days maximum, but.Sherry,  that's what he called her, Sherry was special and she smelled delicious to boot.  Sherry was like no other girl that had ever crossed over his threshold and into his heart and over the past few days he's contemplated keeping her, but  his urges grew minute by minute, second by growling second. He was hungry and the cold meat on the floor wasn't going to suffice.

He cleaned the area of the table where he sat and then abruptly stood up, tightly pushed his chair against the table, walked over to the cage and knelt down. "Don't scream and I won't hurt you. He said, knowing that she would, and knowing he was going to, but loved offering the option. Where would the world be without manners?  None the less, Mr. Harrison unlocked the cage, gently caressed  his hand across the woman's face, grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the bars, knocking her unconscious.

When she woke she was naked, tied to the table by her ankles and wrists. She was unable to move her limbs, and when she tried to  mover her head she realized she couldn't move her neck. "It's all normal, a reaction to the chemicals I gave you," Mr. Harrison said as he loomed over her body. "You are so specially Sherry, was so special and I must apologize for taking a liking to you. If I hadn't you wouldn't have been locked up for so long." He stopped speaking. "I digress." Mr. Harrison smiled down at her and then left the dinning room.

The sounds of a knife sharpening echoed through the dinning room, if she hadn't been aware of her future before, Sherry was well aware of it now. Mr. Harrison walked back in the room with a grin on his face and a fork and knife in his hands. His stomach growled with delight and his eyes widened as tears began to pour from her sockets. He walked to her side and caressed her stomach with the tip if his fork and then with his index finger. Her skin was warm and wet, the temperate and texture Mr. Harrison preferred when starting his meals.

The first cut began at her navel and ended right above her breast. He could see her heart pump through her skin as he watched the blood flow out of her. She cried harder, but not because of the pain, she couldn't feel anything anyway, she cried because he was going to make her watch him eat.  Sherry prayed for death, and with every bite he took it couldn't come sooner.  He cut the pieces of flesh from her body as if he was making love. Sensually chewing, he moaned with absolute pleasure, taking his time swallowing every morsel in his mouth.

Sherry,  soon after Mr. Harrison began to make his next cut, died, he had never even noticed. Yet, though she was dead, he was far from being finished with her.  There was so much more to eat, and so many places on her body yet unexplored. He was going to take his time with her, and tonight his hunger would be fulfilled, until next time.