Old Writing Sample!

I said I would share some of my writing for my prospective horror anthology so here it is! Aptly named Love Bites this is a very short story I submitted during my second year of my undergraduate degree. This was the first story I wrote through this horror lens and what got me started on monster stories and more gothic elements. Before this, I had been writing more YA romance and more daily life sort of stuff.

The genuine inspiration behind this is probably that of a breakup funnily enough. I got really interested in zombies during this phase of my life because I found them to be a really good metaphor for a sort of half-dead relationship. Or one that's been resurrected, but isn't quite right. There is some really excellent imagery that goes along with it, and I felt really connected to zombies at that time. I would say I really explore that zombie/dead theme way more in the poetry I was writing that year for class, maybe I will share that too, but this is where the idea of the undead really got going for me.

My initial idea had been what if a grave robber and a zombie fell in love and the idea really grew from there. There's a hint of tragedy in this short story, and it's an idea that I really liked at the time but now kind of lack connection too. I think it could definitely be expanded, and I think my writing is a little weaker here than it is now. I won't complain about that, it's always great to be improving, but this piece could still use some work.

I honestly think it would be a great short story of around maybe 5,000 words, right now it's about 1,500. But probably not much longer than that. For a full length novel, I think this would serve as a good opening kill. It introduces you to the monster and establishes some rules, however I would definitely tweak things to be more vague. Overall, this story definitely has a special place in my heart as it was the first time I ventured a little bit more out of my comfort zone and found my niche.

The following story is presented in it's original form I have not made any edits so be wary of what follows. I think it could be fun to edit this and then post it again explaining the changes, but we'll have to see if I have the energy to revisit this. I've got a dissertation to write which takes precedence. Anyways, enjoy! (Remember this is unedited and I was like 19)

Peeking from behind the cover of the solid oak door of my home, I could see nearly the entire graveyard. It loomed like a sea of inky darkness. Gravestones rearing their heads out every few feet like shark fins in the ocean. I’d hoped that once I’d opened the door whatever it was would be frightened and run off, but as I plodded further into the yard I could hear guttural animalistic grunting, the scratching of dirt nearly frozen over in time for the oncoming winter. I tightened my grip on my shotgun–a wild thing was undoing all of my methodical work. 

I waded through the darkness towards the sound, my heart racing and my fury rising. A tree branch materialised beneath my feet and I stumbled–crashing onto what should’ve been the semi-newly packed grave of Mrs. Grace Johnson. Face-first I fell into the open empty casket of the beloved mother and wife. 

It was a feat impossible to believe–the body being entirely gone. She’d been resting here only for two short weeks and someone had managed to dig the entire seven feet down and then remove her. I thought of the worn grey face of her husband lost in mourning laying a rose on her coffin before it was lowered. I thought of a different woman I’d had to lower into a grave. This crime was insanity. It was inhuman.

Hands shaking, I collected my gun from where it had fallen as I clambered out of the grave. I clutched the gun to my chest, my heartbeat so loud that it thundered in my ears. This was not the work of some foolish teenagers. This was something else. 

Still I pressed on, foot after foot I advanced into the yard, determined to catch this criminal. And then I saw it. A soft light emanated from one of the lampposts on the path, casting a ghastly glow upon the nearby gravestones, and at the farthest reach laid a pile of dirt next to the grave of another poor soul. 

“You there! Show yourself!” I called out. I had no confidence in my ability to use my gun. Esmerelda had always said I didn’t have the balls to shoot anyone, and dammit she’d been right. My fingers shook so badly I could barely find the trigger. And then the head popped out from the grave.

I was used to death, used to the bodies and the coffins–but this–this was hard to look at. Esmerelda was what was climbing out of the grave but it wasn’t really Esmerelda. Her skin was peeling off and the white bone of her jaw shone in the light like pearls while maggots wriggled and sucked on her bloodied fingers. I fell to my knees. It was the wife I had buried nearly three months ago, standing before me.

“Esmerelda,” I breathed. She studied me with her pale milky blue eyes, unblinking as clouded sapphires.

“You know me?” She asked. A broken sob caught in my throat. Her voice was different, hollowed and raspy but it was still the voice and tongue of my most beloved. My beloved who couldn’t seem to recognize me beyond the grave. My beloved who had found me in my darkest moment and talked me back from the edge. The woman who had dealt with my occupation, who had lived among the dead with me. The woman who had gone cold in my arms in the hospital bed.

My gun clattered to the ground, useless to me now. There was nothing on this earth that could bring me to harm her. God I loved her still. Even in decay she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

“You drop your weapon,” she observed. “You care for me.” She studied me now, interest piquing in those eyes as she kneeled down before me. Her dress was not the modest grey one I’d buried her in, but the tattered remains of a once decadent white evening gown now dirtied by dried blood and dirt. But she was unmistakably Esmerelda, I could recognize her even in death. Esmerelda reached out a rotting hand, half skin half bone and took my hand in her own. 

“You oversee this domain?” She asked

“Yes,” I exhaled. “What are you doing here?” A cheshire smile spread across her face as she squeezed my fingers between her own.

“I have come for you dear husband,” she exclaimed. “My love for you has overpowered even death! For how can death stand between star-crossed lovers? And I am here to provide you with the wife you have so missed,” she paused. “As I have missed you as well!” This ghoulish creature gazed up at me with the face of my most beloved and I pulled her to her feet. My wife, my wife, my wife. That was all I could think, all I could consider. I’d had her buried a few miles away, refusing to trap her here in death as she was in life. And she’d crawled out of the earth for me, how could I deny her now?

I led Esmerelda back through the cemetery to my humble home at the end of the yard. In the bathroom I helped her undress and brought a sponge to help clean her up. 

“You are very kind,” she said. “Not many men would do such a thing for their wives.” 

“You are unlike many wives,” I paused. “Did you truly not recognize me in the yard?” 

“No,” she said. “You just surprised me.” Esmerelda snatched the comb its place on the sink and tugged it through her hair, ripping out a good chunk as she struggled to separate the matted sections. She glanced at me, wringing my hands in the doorway as she shook the hair out onto the floor. “You’re scared,” she said.

“No, just–unnerved. You died–in my arms you died and now you’re standing before me, I found you unearthing bodies, what am I meant to think?” I said. Esmerelda showed all her perfect white teeth in a smile, turning to face me fully. 

“Dear husband, it is a miracle isn’t it?” She took my hand pulling me into the room and wrapped her rotting arms around me, tucking her cheek into the crook of my shoulder. I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch as she traced her bony fingers through my hair with an uncanny gentleness. “So, what exactly do you do with the bodies before you bury them?”

“What?” I asked. “You worked this job too, shouldn't you know this?” Esmerelda tightened her grip on the nape of my neck and I pulled away from her. An irritated frown was present on her mouth as she sized me up, I reached out and took her hand holding it to my chest. “Is everything alright?” She turned away from me, storming off into the bedroom while I chased after her. 

“I just want to know where you get the bodies, is that so hard to answer? I am different now, husband, I need to eat,” she hissed. I paused in the hall as she tore through the room, breathing heavily.

“What’s my name,” I said.

“What?” She snarled. Esmerelda looked at me, an angry sneer marring her face as those milky blue eyes glowed in the dark of the room.

“My name,” I whispered. She paused and so did I. I noticed the grey skin caught between those perfectly intact teeth, the ferality in those unnerving eyes, and the mistreatment of a body that the original owner had painstakingly tried to look after. I lunged across the room to where my gun had been cast aside on the vanity, my fingers scrambling to find the trigger. 

“You are not my wife!” I howled. The creature inhabiting my wife's body smiled then, a real wicked smile. Hunched in the corner it started to change. Shoulders breaking and disjointing as it contorted her body, shedding the skin of my wife like a snake. Its nails sharpened into claws and the mouth unhinged to reveal sharp shark-like teeth, reptilian green skin rapidly stitching itself back together over the skeletal form. Any resemblance to my dearly departed wife was gone, here was the monster.

“No,” the creature sneered through spread teeth. “I am something else entirely.” I brandished the gun as confidently as I could, edging my way along the wall back towards the door to the hallway.

“What have you done with my wife?” I cried out.

“What I needed to do, digging graves really works up an appetite,” it cackled. “I hoped we could make some sort of arrangement, but taking your face sounds like a much easier plot.”

I shot then. Twice. One in the head and a second in the chest. The creature howled and reared back, falling to the bed as black blood leaked onto the floor. Slowly, I advanced on it, my wife was long gone but I could still avenge her. The monster was strewn across my marriage bed, bleeding out onto my white sheets. I exhaled. 

Those blue eyes shot open. A clawed hand wrapped around my throat and threw me across the room, my head smacking against the wall. The ghoul pressed its hand to my chest.

“‘Till death do us part.” And it ripped my heart out.