This is the blog of Samie Sands, author of Lockdown. There will be many great books and projects reviewed here. For more, check out thelockdown.co.uk.

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

'The Visitor' by Mark Tufo #WinterofZombie

Guest Post: Mark Tufo #WinterofZombie

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The Visitor
(This does not contain a zombie – I have to put the word zombie in here because Armand does a word check and if it does not have that then he deletes the story)
I get asked to do these guest blog posts from time to time and I always kind of sit at my desk, head cocked to the side, staring out the window with this thousand yard gaze. The internal debate is; what the fuck am I going to write about? I don’t consider myself an expert in any particular field, sure I have opinions but you know the old saying, opinions are like arm pits everyone has two and they stink. (Was that what you were expecting?) Probably not, cause I just made that shit up. And THAT, THAT is what I do, I make shit up. So I could drone on about the socio-economic blunders of Persia in the second century or I could do a micro-short.
It was June, the year 196, Xerxes had just bought his first gold-gilded chariot. Kidding, I’m kidding! This story is actually based in fact, in that, it was a dream (at least it better have fucking been). This happened two days ago from when I sat down to write this. The sun was peeking around and through the shade on the window. I’m not sure how in the entire room that damn sun beam always found my eyes, like a laser beam, no matter the season, or the time of day. That was my alarm clock, been that way for about four years now. Tough to sleep while your eyeballs melt, they start to stick to your eyelids, it’s a mess. My routine is to grab my iPad that is on the nightstand and check the time, I don’t know why I do, I just do, because invariably it is between 7:17 and 7:21, without fail.
Today it was 7:15, that was the first indicator all was not right with the world, I had not given the boogie man the extra time to hide. The next thing I do is look to my side and see if the missus had got out of the bed before I did. Unlike me, her internal alarm clock is all over the place. Could be anywhere from 5:30 to 9. I just needed to know how quiet I had to be as I grabbed some socks and exited the room. Normal shit right? Yeah, that was except for the guy that was standing next to her side of the bed looking down at me. To say my nuts were sucked up into my throat with my deep intake of air would be an understatement.
“Tracy!” I yelled. Bald-man did not move, if anything he took a deeper look at me, as if he were wondering if I could really see him or not.
“It’s early.”
“There’s a guy here!” I was nearly in a panic. My words affected Bald-man. He no longer had to wonder, as I was pointing. My finger was less than two feet from his face. Which I should add, wasn’t malice laced, did not appear violent. Just sort of questioning.
Tracy rolled over to look. When someone says that kind of shit it tends to make you move pretty fast. She spent a second or two, her sleeping mind trying to catch up with her waking body. “Tufo there’s nobody there.”
Bald-man’s eyebrows furrowed. “He’s right there! He’s looking at you!”
Tracy sat up and turned back to me. “You’re having a dream Tufo.”
“Do I look like I’m asleep?” Bald-man was leaning over, his face getting dangerously close to mine.
She didn’t even turn this time, she was not trying to humor me in anyway. “There’s no one there. Go back to sleep.” Tracy closed her eyes and within a few moments was a slumber.
I was freaking out, Bald-man and myself were having a stare off. He was as real as you would expect a person to be at the side of your bed. This is where it gets interesting. Well maybe more interesting. On the window side of the room I caught movement in my peripheral vision, what comes through is something I’m not sure I can explain. There were two entities, ephemeral, ethereal, would be two words I’d used to describe them. They were out of focus, I could not see them clearly, is what I’m inadequately trying to say. The sun streaming through the window gave them a shimmering effect. I won’t swear it on a stack of bibles but I’m pretty sure they had wings, they weren’t outstretched but rather folded in to their sides. I turned to Bald-man to see if he was aware of this new presence. He was, he didn’t look scared, more like a kid who had got away from his mother and a store and was checking out all the new toys. His eyes became downcast as he realized he was going to have to leave and probably do a day’s worth of chores for giving his mother a scare.
And just like that they were gone. Who the fuck were they? I don’t know. Pretty strange way to start the day. I looked at my iPad it now read that magical number of 7:17, maybe I should stick to that, who the fuck knows what happens beforehand.
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The stench of frozen flesh is in the air! Welcome to the Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2015, with 40+ of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of November.
Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser…and pick up some great swag as well!
Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them!
#WinterofZombie is the hashtag for Twitter, too!

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