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Nathan — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 15:15:24 +0000

Laverne lay on a bed of coals, waiting. A charred picture of her ex-husband hung on the brimstone wall. She’d waited 50 years for his soul to join hers in hell, and she was growing impatient. She wanted him to feel the endless, crushing pain she felt. She closed her eyes and concentrated on ripping his soul through space and time into the fiery depths. Dark energy ripped through her being. She found herself in a familiar bedroom. A frail man in bed stirred.

“Who are you?” the old man asked.

“Don’t you remember me, dear? I’ve come to take you home.”

Carved

Nathan — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 15:11:32 +0000

The corpse lay on the floor, bloodied from smashing its way through the window. They watched the news, hoping to find out if there were more. Van, a pizza delivery boy, sat next to her. Stabbing a walking corpse with an electric knife had squelched Beth’s appetite, so she let him have the pizza. She kept the knife close, though, just in case.

“…caused by a virus,” the reporter said, “from an infected tomato crop.” When the reporter listed PizzaRama among the affected restaurants, Van froze mid-bite. Beth stood over him, blade whirring. She couldn’t take any chances.