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I am something of a writer myself.

A Forum Thread for GameBanana

Lorri and the Dead Midnight mist hung and swirled over a lonely side road as it began to sprinkle. A half moon bobbed in and out of dark, storming clouds, which lent an eerie setting to the spooky work at hand. A beautiful young woman tied her hair back in a ponytail. She awkwardly unzipped the collar of a green windbreaker, unrolled a hood and pulled it on by the its strings. Lorri looked back at Tom and Larry, two local toughs she met at a bar an hour before. She wasn't sure she would need their protection, but they worked cheap, and she thought she could trust them. At least until they got the other half of their money. "Come on fellas, we gotta finish this tonight." She kept her voice firm, and her face blank as she walked up the asphalt drive -way toward the Havenville Funeral Home, slowing only a moment to take in the gaudy green and white double doors. She had been instructed to take the back way in, but the rain had gotten heavier and she wasn't about to soil her new brogans tracking around in that muck. The doorbell made a creepy, drawn out ding noise without the dong. Larry and Tom shuffled their feet anxiously and she could see their reflections fidget in the polished brash of a huge urn. She was wondering if the double shots of Jim Beam had been enough. This was a small town, and she wouldn't be surprised if the Mortician wasn't someone’s cousin. There was a small racket from inside as if someone had bumped into a pew; then, furtive feet tapped across the floor from inside and the door came open to reveal a tall, lanky man in his middle years. "Yes?" He asked looking at Tom with a disapproving glare. His eyes slid off Larry and dropped to Lorri who was fiddling with the strings of her hood. "Mr. Tiller I presume?" She gave the hollow eyed man her best smile, which seemed to do nothing at all. For a moment she thought about pulling out the rest of his money and paying him here, but she had learned the hard way not to get so hasty. The mortician looked over her head and scanned the empty street and houses across from them. When he was apparently satisfied, he stepped aside, "Get in here. I want to be done with this business right now." The trio filed in and the door was shut and locked in three quick motions. "This way," was all he said, and he visibly shivered as his polished loafers tapped across the floor toward the viewing room. On the far side: Tiller pulled back a curtain, and opened the door behind it. He motioned them in and looked at Tom, who was about to say something, but clamped his mouth shut instead. Scowling, the lanky old man led them down a long, drab concrete floored hall to a set of swinging, double doors. He stopped before entering and visibly shook. Reaching into his stereotypical black coat, he produced a silver flask and fumbled with the lid. In moments he was shaking from the effects of five strong pulls, and then passed it to Tom. The big fellow almost dropped it, before he half emptied the rest. He was passing it to Larry, who seemed to have his own bottle out, and a cigarette to boot. Lorri, coughed and shook her head, "Those things will kill you." She couldn't help but laugh at them. They had all turned white as fresh linen. Tiller had his flask back and was bumming a cigarette off Larry, "Good god, can you really do it young lady?" Tom had a lip full of snuff and was looking for somewhere to spit. With a reluctant shrug he swallowed the spit and then began to take deep breaths when it went down wrong. "Look, this should go pretty smooth. I've done this a few times already." She pulled back her hood and unzipped her jacket trying to make them feel at ease. Out of the corner of her eye she looked at Tom and wanted to tremble. What in hell did he put in his mouth? Tiller nodded and opened one swing-door and Larry the other. She walked in and looked around. Two of the four metal tables had bodies on it, one was a battered and scarred young woman half covered with a blood and ichor stained sheet. The mangled form had hoses sticking out of her, and a face that was neatly stitched was turned her way. One hollow brown eye was still open. The corpse seemed to regard her, making her shiver. Tiller, who noted this rushed over to the grisly sight, "I told you to take the back way. I was trying to get the poor girl fixed up as fast as I could. Bad car wreck. Her parents are good folk, and they are beating down my door trying to get in. As you can see, she is not presentable, but I've improved much, and . . . I do go on," he quickly removed some tools from her chest and covered her up. He then moved to a middle aged man a table away and pointed, "That's Dr. Smitten. Heart attack." He seemed to muse over that a moment and backed away. "What are you . . .? How are you going to do it miss?" He croaked, loosing his whiskey bought nerves. "Like this." She looked at the neatly dressed man. 'Heart attack she thought. Hrm.' She'd never dealt with one of those. 'What if I bring him back and the poor sap dies again?' She walked around the table and looked at Larry, Tom, was spitting his snuff out in a trash can, and wiping his mouth on the right sleeve of his blue, green, and red striped flannel shirt. "Ok, it should go quick, but sometimes they wake up in a fit." She shook her head, wondering. "Seems that some don't want to come back ya know. Like the other side is a better place." The young woman walked over to the mans head, pushing the wide-eyed mortician out of the way. She put both hands on the man's ears and bent over his mouth, "Two days?" she asked. Mr. Tiller was looking through the scene before him, spaced out and slowly backing up like a wretched thing. "Tiller?" She asked harshly. "Two days since he died?" "What? Why yes, no, sixty-five hours. He was not found for nearly thirteen hours. He died in his car, in the garage almost five days ago. I, I mean uh, three days." Lightning struck then, and some of the metal bowls clinked from the vibrations." "Not too late. You two,” get over here and grab his arms and legs. When he comes too, he may attack us. Be ready." She took a deep breath and turned to her subject, tilting the back the dead man's head. "Tiller, clear his airways with that tool you guys use." Tiller jumped to work, and in moments he was backing away, clutching some object to his chest. Lorri turned the mans head sideways and started to sing something so low the others could only hear what sounded like muffled gibberish. As her voice rose, dogs started whining outside, and the room dimmed, filling with a bleak, almost tangible gray mist. Tiller backed away shivering. The room was getting very cold, he dropped what he was holding and started to pray. Half way through he gave it up swearing and pulled out his whiskey flask. "What’s happening?" Lorri could hear nothing. Her strange song grew and as it did the three light fixtures which held four 100 watt light bulbs flickered several times, and a few went out. The ones above her sparked and burst. Her strange song grew slightly, almost ear wrenching, then began to taper off. The swinging-doors burst open with a powerful gust of wind, knocking one off a hinge. As her song sank back to muttered gibberish she cleared her throat, and hoarsely uttered, "Come-back-to-us." She said it slowly, and deliberately; then, quickly backed away. Dr. Smitten's corpse shook twice and went still. Tom had turned green and was spinning away, throwing up whatever rot gut and snuff he'd downed that day. Larry, sweating profusely was swearing nonstop, but kept to his task. His cigarette was broken and still burning, but he held on.

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  • mun avatar
    mun Joined 17y ago
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    ohhhhhh please do
    Bananite
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    19 medals 4 legendary 6 rare
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    Not Bad. Write more :D
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  • Guest avatar
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    19 medals 4 legendary 6 rare
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    nice job
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  • EtErNiTyU. avatar
    EtErNiTyU. Joined 17y ago
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    wow very nice, keep it up
    Bananite
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  • Neirjhin avatar
    Neirjhin Joined 17y ago
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    thanks, i was thinking of doing one about a blackop based on CS. :-) need to think up a really good plot though
    Bananite
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  • hens not funny avatar
    hens not funny Joined 17y ago
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    so far so good. i read up to half of the first post. gj keep up the good werk
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    monkonaut Joined 17y ago
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    wow thats pretty good, i like it!
    SELL SELL FOOKING SELL
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    Neirjhin Joined 17y ago
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    "Don't loosen your grips. He's dangerous for now." Lorri's voice was cracked, and strained. She wobbled, and Tiller had the presence of mind to rush to her. She held him at bay with an out stretched hand and leaned against the wall where she had pulled a gleaming, chrome .357 magnum. Tom tried to pull himself together, but each time he'd only slump back in a cold sweat, dizzy as hell. Tiller started praying again when another bolt of lightning made everyone jump save Lorri. She had regained some of her composure and was putting a little more distance between her and Dr. Smitten. Thunder rolled over the funeral home and when it left, all was silent. "Something is happening here" Larry's eyes got wide and he spit out his cigarette. "Something is happening here!" The hairs on his arms were standing up, and fear wore him like a heavy overcoat. "Tom! Get your ass over here man!" Smitten's corpse started to convulse and he tried to leap from the table. Big and strong as he was, it was all Larry could do to slow the old man's once feeble frame. Tom managed to get up while Tiller fainted dead away. Larry was thrown across one of the metal tables. Head over heels he flew, right into the scarred young woman’s corpse. He was stuck with a needle and let out a scream and began to fight the table thinking it'd come to life too. Smitten screamed as his eyes seemed to blink a thousand times, his gray horseshoe crop of hair around his bald head seemed more like horns in the flickering shadows of the mortuary. Tom, somewhat together, cursed the old man and rushed to tackle him, but the old man moved with unnatural speed and was somehow behind the big man before he could take his third step. By this time Larry had fought off the table and was on the risen man's back. His headlock was a death grip as the old Doctor spun wildly trying to get him off. Tom started to kick and punch the newly risen man; they wrestled him to the ground and flailed at him madly. Lorri's cool demeanor broke and she fired one shot across the room. Her hand cannon sent her dainty arm straight up, causing her to stumble, but she stayed on her foot. The beating became a wrestling match as the two brutes kept the man down. Several moments and lots of swearing passed. Lorri looked at the huge dent she'd put in the concrete wall. She was glad it didn't go through. All had settled down when she walked over and nudged Mr. Tiller. Immediately she jumped back. The fecal stench was starting to spread. The lanky old mortician had messed himself, and was lying in a puddle of urine. "Wha, what’s going on?" Nothing was in those coal black eyes, then the dim light of reflection. " Where-am-I?" Dr. Fuller Smitten tried to get up, but Larry and Tom would have none of it. Tom was breathing like crazy, foaming at the mouth, while froth and endless strings of dirty words flowed from Larry's. "Let him up?" Lorri walked a good ways around Tiller's prostrate form and stamped her foot, which made a very weak thud. "I said let him up! He's ok now. Should be fine at this point." She was about to kick one of them when they pushed themselves up roughly. "Careful! He's probably frail again. Damn I hope you two didn't break anything." Larry straightened up and started to smile at the young woman for her concern, till it dawned on him she most likely meant the Smitten fella. Tom just got up, the worry still deep in his features. "You two have handled this pretty good." She tossed them each and envelope stuffed with money. All thoughts of the morbid were suddenly erased as they looked up from their vanilla folders with wide grins. "Still, its not over yet. Stand over there by the doors. Don't let him out." She sighed deeply and motioned with her shiny hand cannon. "What in gods name is going on here?" Smitten slowly got to a sitting position. "For that matter, what in the devil am I doing here?" the man suddenly looked frightened, and then realization flooded his wrinkled old face. Black eyes looked around anew, and he began to study his hands. Slowly ever so slowly, he looked to Lorri. "How did you do this?" He looked for aid in the faces by the door. There was none to be had. So he got up on one knee and stood up, wiping himself off and shuffled a little away from Tiller and put his back to a dented wall. "Is Herby ok? Mr. Tiller? What happened?" Lorri sighed again, "Charlette knew about Tammy." Dr. Smitten looked shocked. He smiled toothily and spread his hands and shrugged. "I'm just a man after all." Lorri smirked. "She also knows you were going to divorce her and marry the other. Leaving her with nothing." "Well I, um, I uh, I died didn't I? She'll get everything. Millions." He frowned and said, "But I’m back now. I can do things right this time around." Lorri pulled out a cell phone and pressed the speed dial. "Its clear,” was all she said and replaced the phone in her pocket. Dr. Smitten turned as white as he was before and began to wring his hands. "What’s going on? What are you doing? He looked to Tom and Larry who were shaking their heads. One of them muttered something about having it all, the other nodded and mumbled, "Everyone knew about Tammy." A knock came from the front door. "Tom." the big guy flinched. "Go to the door." Lorri's voice was sad, but firm. Tom came back nearly tripping over the door hanging ajar. He stepped aside to reveal an elderly woman, not so old as Dr. Smitten, but with the same smug look the other had sported earlier though briefly. "Cherry! Sweetheart! Did you do all this?" Dr. Smitten's voice was smooth as velvet, but his face was red as a beat. "You'd be surprised what one can find on the internet, darling." Her voice was cool, but the promise of damnation smoldered in her ice blue eyes. "Sweetykins? What are you doing?" Dr. Smitten nearly choked as a gloved hand raised an antique .45 caliber Peace Keeper, the crown jewel of his gun collection. "Sweetykins? Damn you Fuller." With that she pushed a stray red hair from her face and unloaded on the man. "Damn woman!" Tom piped, Larry spit out a shot of Jim Beam he didn't get down in time. "Damn woman!" the old dame spat. "I'll show you a damned woman." She pulled another, smaller gun from her purse and shot them both in the head. She turned on Lorri with tears welling up, "Damn men I say. damn them all." "Why did you do that? They were paid well. And on your side too." She permitted herself a frown. "It would not have gotten back to you." Regret flashed across her face before she could stop it. She had never done this type of resurrection before, yet the money was too good to turn down. "Foolish child. Smart, certainly gifted, but foolish. Did you think I could let anyone know? Leave any chance at all? I'm too old to rot in prison." Thinking the young woman off balance, she lifted her gun, but Lorri was the faster. She fired once, catching the vengeful old woman in the arm. Mrs. Smitten crashed to the ground, and died from the shock. "Old bat," Lorri huffed. She was about to swear herself when Mr. Tiller finally came to. The lanky old mortician looked at his predicament and almost sobbed. He looked around at all the dead bodies and did cry then. "What have you done?" "Not me Mr. Tiller." She laughed then. "Herby." "Please don't kill me!" He cried, drooling on himself. "How would you like to double your money?" She was already pulling the old woman up, careful not to get blood on her new shirt. "Ah, in the arm? I can fix that in no time." Mr. Tiller got up and made to help. "But first let me clean up some. I'll be quick." "Hurry up ok?" We might just get paid after all." With that Lorri let the old crone fall back to the cold stone floor and followed Mr. Tiller as he walked away oddly. She might be a young fool, but she was wising up fast. 'Yep, we might just get paid after all.' THE END
    Bananite
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