Re-Animated States of America

State of the Union...

2011-06-09T09:58:00.005-05:00

Always mutating, the world of the Re-Animated States of America is leaving the blogosphere and will return in the form of a print magazine, to be published in the winter of 2011! Expanded storylines, including adventures focusing on characters other than West and Jehovah, even more dynamic artwork, including amazing acrylic paintings, and glimpses into the massive world changing story arc that has barely been hinted at here, will all be part of Re-Animated States of America the Magazine! Check out the teaser trailer and several test pages below, and watch this space for more…

Special thanks to Mars Homeworld, of Dead House Music, for providing the amazing soundscape and narration for the trailer...

Le pied Grande...

2010-11-16T18:46:00.001-06:00

It has been several days since we escaped the creepers, and those days had been spent tracking the re-animated corpses from the makeshift asylum. We watched as they spilled out of the building, their torn straitjackets flapping behind them like broken wings, and lost track of them in the tall wheat fields. The fields behind us, we found traces of them in a stream at the base of some forgotten foothills.

Following the tracks (of how many we couldn't be sure) we continued along the stream until It became a river, the river emptying into a large lake. It was decided that we would rest, and we climbed one of the smaller hills outlining the lake. We surveyed our surroundings, and feeling safe on our tree spined hill, we watched the crystal clear waters below us.

Just below the surface, we could see a pod of armored plesiosaurs (dinosaurs, it seems, had been waiting for a good time to return) chasing salamanders the size of men. Jehovah actually jumped as a plesiosaur struck at a salamander with a whip-like movement, not unlike a striking snake, and dove into the depths with its prize. I opened my journal, jotted down several notes, and scribbled a quick sketch of the creature. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a second strike, this time a miss, and much to my surprise, the tails of the remaining salamanders broke off and swam straight down, like silvery eels. Confused, the plesiosaurs gave chase, and the tailless salamanders struggled into the shallows, and out of sight. I noted this latest revelation in my journal, closed it, stood, and wandered down the hill.

Without looking to see if Jehovah had followed I said, "I'm continually surprised by the flora and fauna we have encountered, and how quickly they've taken to this new world..."

Jehovah did not reply as he bounded ahead, in his wobbly awkward way, and I did my best to follow downhill...

After a time, we encountered the trail again and made our pursuit. By this time, I had forgotten why we were even pursuing the recently re-animated, but it seemed like the thing to do. They had entered a densely forested area down-stream, and that was the last time we saw any trace of them...

My first thought was to turn and retreat back into the open, but Jehovah took off ahead, and my calls were ignored, so I followed deeper into the choking vegetation. Meat-eating trees were the least of our worries in this wild area, and I wanted nothing more than to return to the relative saftey of the open land.

Up ahead I could make out a clearing and the reason for Jehovah's advance.

The clearing was dotted with grass huts, dozens of them, the grass covered structures made from sticks woven together. There were also sticks that were leaned together, like an un-covered teepee, fish and small mammals hanging from the apex. Fires beneath them slowly cooking the meat.

Then I saw one...

"Gigantopithecus," I whispered aloud.

The ape crawled out of the grass hut, stood to a full height of eight feet, and walked across the clearing, disappearing into the trees. Several more could be seen walking around, some tending the fires, others re-thatching huts. All the while, in complete silence. They varied in height from six feet to eight or more, and were covered with thick brown (some bordering on black) hair. They wore no clothing or other adornments.

Glad to see you survived the change, I thought to myself.

Jehovah stood, the dog in him mesmerized by the creatures. It was then that I realized that they knew we were here, knew we were watching them. They could smell us, smell Jehovah...

Where had the big one gone, eight feet, one-thousand pounds could really do some damage if it wanted to.

"We should go," I whispered to Jehovah. He nodded in agreement.

We turned and there it stood. How long had it been standing there. Why hadn't it attacked us?

"What do we do," Jehovah asked, and I realized that it was the first time he had spoken in days.

"Just walk," I replied.

So we walked, walked right past it. It turned and walked with us. No threat in its step, just a steady, heavy (but quiet) gate.

"Walk slow, don't make any sudden moves," I told Jehovah, and hoped he would listen.

We continued through the forest, Jehovah and I stumbling over roots and rocks, the creature flowing effortlessly over every obstacle.

Eventually we made it to the edge of the forest, and continued to the river bank before stopping.

I turned and there it stood at the tree line, quietly looking until the trees swallowed it whole...

"If only I had a camera," I said.

Black wings cast the night...

2010-11-02T15:27:00.000-05:00

A strange thing happened on our way back from the show, or should I say, on our way back from wondering the night, as there are no more "shows"...

It was Jehovah who first noticed the graffiti that said, "Beware the Black Wings", and our first thought was those leather-winged night-gaunts who haunt blackened skies waiting for unsuspecting victims. Those man-sized, faceless bat people who swoop down, grab those they deem damned (with hallucinogenic tipped claws I've discovered) and carry them screaming into the sky, only to drop them into bottomless abysses that are merely figments of their now drug-addled minds...

We were walking down a four lane highway, the skeletons of ruined buildings standing vigil on either side. Silence ruled the night, and there was not a living thing in sight...

In the moonlight we saw what we took for a heat mirage. It looked like a wave of black felt rising and falling in the distance, but what it turned out to be was far more sinister, and at the same time fascinating, than either of us had expected...

As the mass got closer we could make it out as extremely short individuals in tattered, black robes. We couldn't see their faces, as the hoods hung low, leaving them fully obscured. The odd thing about them was that they all had wings, big black-feathered wings that while a little rough around the edges, looked to be fully functional (though we never saw one leave the ground). Several of the figures at the fore of the group were armed with four-foot pieces of rebar slightly curved and tipped with metal talons. The armed robes were fully a foot taller than the rest, and from the looks of their weapons, one swipe could easily remove a man's face...

They continued towards us, moving as one entity. In a panic, Jehovah quickly slide behind me, his height easily below that of the shortest of them. They parted like a wave and moved around us, literally hundreds of them, and closed behind us. We were stranded in a sea of robes and black wings. I could hear Jehovah mumble something, but he was completely out of sight...

Not one of them, at least that I noticed, had given us any notice save for making room for us in their midst. So seeming that the threat was minimal, I made the move to remove one of their hoods and reveal its wearer...

I slipped my hand under the closest hood and slowly peeled it back only to reveal nothing, absolutely nothing at all. The robe continued to slide back, finally falling to the ground in a heap, nothing inside it, nothing standing where it had stood...

I grabbed another, peeled it back and revealed nothing. Then another, and another still. Nothing in each and every one...

What I failed to notice in my unmasking of the robes was that the armed robes were making their way towards us, the metal talons bobbing up and down waiting to pounce...

Jehovah jumped straight up in the air, clearing the heads of his surroundings and yelled an alarm. At the last second I turned, noticed the impending danger and reacted accordingly...

My first thought was to pick up several of the walking robes and toss them towards their armed brothers, but when I touched them, my hand slid unimpeded into the cold wastes of the robe. When I removed my hand, they collapsed in a heap and were no more...

It was Jehovah who decided to run, and I who decided to follow...

During our flight, we took down as many of them as we could, swinging arms, kicking legs and the like. They never fought back, never skipped a beat. The armed robes followed, but couldn't keep up, and soon rejoined the ranks of the others...

As we left them in the distance, we slowed our pace, and finally stopped to rest. We sat in silence, and once we spoke it was of other things, not of the encounter we had just experienced...

We never did find out why we should "Beware the Black Wings" (save for those talons), but I have a feeling that our time will come...

Fading Memories

2010-10-19T22:41:00.000-05:00

...I peaked my head into the broken drivers side window of the abandoned police cruiser, looking for any type of weopon. To behold a shotgun lying on the passanger seat was a beautiful sight...the bloated body of the deceased cop blanketing the back seat wasn't. To make matters worse there was a small unidentifiable creature hollowing out the inside of the officers head. I grabbed the shotgun slowly and kept observing...it resembled the frenzy of a dog digging in a sandbox. After a few bloody moments it seperated the head from the uniformed body and thrusted its appendages through the poor mans face...it was using his head like a hermit crab uses a shell. I cocked the shotgun and blew IT and most of the dead cop to fuckin' pieces. As I lowerd the gun and took a breath I heard a sharp click from behind me...I caught eyes with another uniformed officer who had his 12 gauge pointed in my direction. Before I had time to explain, he emptied both barrels into my chest sending me crashing to the cold ground with a sick wet thud. He began to approach me...no doubt to finish me off...but then turned his back and ran out of sight. I looked to my side and saw a swarm of those crab creatures charging my way. As I lay dying, my body pulverized by buckshot I saw the man approach, with flame thrower in hand he ran off the beasts and knelt down beside me.The oddly familiar man dropped the torch to the ground and removed a machete from the sheath on his left thigh."Trust me." He said."I'm a doctor."

...Your ass from a hole in the ground Pt.2 Caustic poison pit.

2010-10-14T18:13:00.000-05:00

"Here it is!" West shouted with excitement...the tunnel in which they were confined to for far too long, after escaping that underground hut, had reached its anticlimactic end. A re barb latter stretched up to a slimy sewer lid. "Its about time!" Jehovah barked. Covered in strange bugs and soaking wet, he was ready to get out of this concrete corridor. West instructed Jehovah to climb upon his back...dogs don't fair well against ladders. Jehovah agreed and the pair began to climb up. After a few tries the sewer lid popped off and fell to its side, making a loud wet smack. They stood at the end of the ladder, motionless and wide-eyed waiting to see if anything heard them....after a few tense moments pass their heads emerge. The opening lead to an empty courtyard in the back of a rundown hotel...but then again everything is 'rundown' these days. There were no creatures in sight, no visible threats of any kind, so the pair climbed out of the mouth of that concrete beast and stepped out onto the Black and Red sludgy surface..."What is this shit?!" Jehovah questioned. Herbert replied "Whats whaaaaaa..." Before he could finish his sentence he slipped on the 'shit' in question. Jehovah found it some what amusing...until he saw Wests face. "Look around you !" Herbert said wide eyed. Their eyes gazed upon a gruesome sight..Bones and body fragments littered the sludge around them. Rotted half- eaten men, women and children lay congealed in one giant mass. As Herbert stood up he could feel bloated stomachs under his feet..."This is a death pit!!"
They stood for a moment contemplating their next move. West scanned the area, there were two buildings in the shape of an 'L' in front of them and countless trees protruding from the ground behind them. The area still seamed calm, despite the horror that they stood knee deep in. "Lets make our way over there." Herbert said while gesturing towards the closest building. "Thats fine..." Jehovah replied. "We just better not get stuck in here for weeks again, cant handle that again" West agreed, they began to pull their feet through the necromuck which surrounded them and up to the doorway of the stone building. After a couple of tugs, the rickety rusted door opened outward with a heavy creek. It was pitch black within, but the two stepped inside to get out of the filth they were standing in. They tracked in bits of slimy body parts like snow on a winters day, after they stomped their feet clean Herbert checked his bag for his lighter. As West searched he heard Jehovah yelp and hit the ground, before he had time to react West felt a sudden thud to the back of his head and fell to the ground unconscious.
When West came to, he found himself strapped to a wooden structure resembling a cross. The room was dimly lit by a few candles and smelled of age. Jehovah was nowhere in sight and that worried the good doctor slightly. After some assessment of the situation his eyes were drawn to a wooden table at the other side of the room. On it was all of Herbert notebooks, Instruments and containers of re-agent. West knew this was bad, he tried to pull himself free but could not gain any leverage...then from a darkened corner he heard chanting. A precession of shrouded figures emerged from the darkness and stood encircling West. "We are the order of The Great Protector" The apparent leader spoke calmly. "We have..."West quickly interrupted the pale man. "Look, I don't care what reasons you have, who you are or how you crazies convinced yourselves this is justified. You mindless robots are a dime a dozen...I just have one question"WHERES MY DOG!" Unaffected the leader replied."That abomination you call a DOG is on his way." From a dark corner of the room West heard footsteps and the squeak of something metal. Another robed figure emerged from the void with a rather large cage in his hands...inside was Jehovah..unconscious. "Don't worry heathen, he's not dead yet." The leader said confidently."You two will be the next ones to be offered up to our lord...and through the offerings he will continue to shield us from the dwellers of the wasteland." He continued. "I read your notes...your a scientist..and a butcher! You will make a nice meal for our Almighty." West half smiling replied."So thats what that pit is outside...your gods feeding ground." The leader replied with angst."Exactly, now bring me that dog!" He gestured to the Jehovah and his followers. Herbert, feeling his time for action is growing short screamed out with rebellion. "YOU TOUCH HIM AND I'LL..." West was interrupted. "Silence!" The leader demanded. At that moment a follower made her way to the front of the cultists with a glass jar and a strip of fabric in hand. West looked at her with uneasy anticipation. The robed woman opened the jar and scooped out some viscous dark jelly and, With no expression on her face shoved the jelly into Herberts mouth and immediately wrapped the fabric around his face. West tried to spit out the salty sludge but the velvet piece of cloth kept it in. West tried not to swallow...he also tried to not think of what the CHUNKS could be. A rather short cultist walked over to the rusty cage and retrieved the limp man-dog. Cradled in his arms he walked over to the right of the leader, to the left another follower approached and began pulling a heavy chain which revealed an opening to the poison pit outside. West could do nothing but stare with hate in his eyes, the viscous jelly seeping from the corners of his mouth. The leader excepted Jehovah into his arms and walked up to the alter that stood ominous over the sludge outside. While at the alter the leader turned to his flock and began to speak the redrick of their way. The followers fell to their knees, holding Jehovah by the head with his left hand and revealing a large blade with his right, The leader made eye contact with West...and with one swipe severed the mans head from the dogs body. West kept eye contact until the leader turned his back, placed Jehovahs head on the alter and flung the body into the pit below. "We worship you, we give you thanks, we praise you for your glory" The cult chanted in a monotone manner. The leader then gestured for the doctors notebooks and containers. The same follower who opened the pit gathered items' requested and brought them to the alter. The leader picked up one of the books...and ripped out page after page, casting them down to the same pit that swallowed up Jehovahs body. Herbert felt this was the end. He watched every page blow away, everything he witnessed and learned gone. The leader than turned his attention to the containers of re-agent...unscrewed the lids and pored them out into the sludge. West looked away in defeat, then saw the faces of the followers change to glee at what they saw. Outside, flying around the pit was the great protector, a strange looking beast even to Herberts eyes. The creature landed in the foul muck...it was about the size of an elephant but was bipedal. It had no distinguishable head but large wings protruded from its leathery back. It revealed some long fleshy tube like appendage, began to puree and then suck up the liquid meat.
The leader looked quite pleased."Now the Doctor!" he said with intensity. A cultist stood and took out a small blade, he headed over to West and cut the strap subduing his left arm. West balled up his fist and, with all his strength bashed the followers nose in. Sending him to the ground in a bloody mess. Only being held by his right wrist he struggled to get free. Another cultist ran over, West quickly pulled off the gag from his mouth and spit the unknown jelly into the eyes of the approaching threat, sending him to the dirt ground as well. Herbert got his right arm free and made a dash for the knife on the ground. The leader, in a rage ordered his parish to gain control of the situation. The cult began approaching..West standing his ground with knife in hand..Then a sudden SHRIEK from outside echoed within the concrete walls. The leader turned to see their protector being pulled down by the necrotic sludge, Tearing and thrashing around but it could not break free..."Whats happening?!?" The leader cried out. Herbert knew...The re-agent that was dumped out into the pit was highly concentrated...That Sludge just got the highest dose ever administered. Not only was it alive..it acted as one! One giant amalgamating mass of spasming heads..of trembling revenge filled decaying parts aching to tear into the GOD that took their lives so cruelly. The pitiful followers retreated into the dark voids from which they came and their leader stand frozen in, what might be disbelief. Watching his everything being devoured by the embodiment of vengeance. West crept up behind the once proud leader, who was now weeping uncontrollably. "Please !" The leader cried out."Help us!..He quickly turned to face West who, by that time had been standing right behind. The trembling leader clutched at Wests shirt, begging for mercy.Pleading for the doctor to do something. West glanced over the leaders shoulder at the head on the alter. "What should I do?" West asked the severed head. The head replied in a gargled voice"Help him.." West complied to Jehovahs suggestion and kicked the leader out the opening into the whithering mound of vengeful sludge...It tore him apart in a violent frenzy.
West grabbed the head of his good buddy and took one last look out the window..he saw his notes, some blowing around in the cold wind, but most stuck within the green glowing mass of the creature HE created. With his elixir of life he brought back hundreds of lives all whom had a collective consciousness of revenge....This was he felt, a huge achievement. They found the door from which they came and headed into the tree line. West heard the rest of the cultists screaming in horror...it must of got in he thought.
Herbert kept engaging Jehovah in conversation to keep him conscious." How long I got?" The head asked in a whisper. "Thats a vague question." West replied."I can always bring you back...its what state you'll be in is the question...If we get to a city in the next day or two where I can get more supplies and make some new re-agent, you should be as good as new." Herbert looked up from Jehovah and saw the end of the tree line. They stumbled onto the blacktop of a fairly unobstructed road and saw a sign that said Milford 15 Miles. "Looks like we're going to Milford buddy, in a day or two you'll be back to your old self again" Herbert said with assurance. Jehovah tried to smile but was too weak.

A.O.

...Your ass from a hole in the ground.

2010-09-27T16:55:00.000-05:00

I grow tired of this mold infested dungeon..Stuck in this hole for over three weeks and the intensity of the creatures outside grow stronger, Almost consuming me from within. My dog Jehova, on the other hand is content as long as he has his hooch...But sadley it is all gone, And that is why he's brooding in the corner, Irritated and frankley unconversational.
This one room, Windowless hole-in-the-ground festers with desease...I believe it will show its effects down the road. The only way in is a "Twist Latch", Like a bank vault, Hangs above head. Whomever made this underground hut was long gone, But thier enginuity is much appreciated.
I had a run in with the leathery beasts outside once before. They thrash at you with blank faces as if their unware of their efforts to destroy you...They move so quick its hard to get a good look at them.
Now, Food deminishing, Booze...All gone, Water...Sparce. There is a system of pipes with moss inside that travels from the outside threw the room and drains into a glass tub...Genius! In a book labled "War and Peace", I found on a shelf, Is a hollowed-out casm...Inside revealed a stash of heroin and instructions on how to overdose. Several needles also filled the box. On rare ocasions I include opiates in our Re-Agent injections...And this gave me a way to pass the time in this safe prison.
"1/3 Heroin to 2/3 Re-Agent should do us nicely huh?" I ask Jehova. Before he has time to respond I stuck him with a dose and then myself.
"It feels like 1000 hearts are beating within my chest!" Jehova said..Wide eyed and nervous. I, On the other hand, Was frozen in fear...The noises coming from outside amplified with horror. It felt like my heart would burst any minute...My jaw shivering and cramping. I saw Jehova, My dog with a mans head I once knew...What was his name? I thought...But an answer eluited me, Then an overwelming sense of euphoria was cast over me like a cool breeze. The noises were gone...From my mind anyway. This place seemed cozy now. I sat with my back to the picture coverd wall of various paintings and magazine cut-outs of far away lands and drifted into the clouds.
When I came to Jehova was staring at me, And frankley it creeped me out. We started to joke about these people we ran into awhile back..A bunch of crazy fucks that worshiped this beast that reproduced threw ingestion...It would eat a "Chosen one"and shortly there after would shit out an egg sack...A born-again living piece of shit. Humans always need something to worship, Some "Almighty" to thank and praise.
"It kind of looked like that" Jehova said. Comparing it to the painting on the wall. It was a strange abstract creature painted, In what looked to be blood and fecies. "I hate that painting" Jehova said with a spitefull tounge. He then ran over and lunged toward it grasping the top of it with his teeth and pulled it down from the wall. I was indifferent to the piece and could care less if he destroyed it...Besides, We had bigger problems at hand.
Jehova started to speak..."Herb...Look?!" I could'nt believe it...That blood and shit painting was hidding an exit...A tunnel, That looked like it went on for at least four to five hundred yards. "GOOD DOG!!" I exclaimed..."Gather your things...We are outta here!"

-A.O.

Ramblings on the wall

2010-06-04T21:21:00.004-05:00

...As the blood of heaven shrieked across the sky... The beast awoke...Its language, a variety of colors my eyes have never seen..draped over my brain like a warm blanket...

From the journal of Herbert West: The Great Plains Bone Breaker...

2010-05-14T18:11:00.001-05:00

The Great Plains Bone Breaker; herds of this unintelligent beast roam the plains uttering almost imperceptible vocalizations that shatter the bones of any living thing in its range. It then feeds on the now pliable body of its victim, without the use of its arms, which are almost completely useless...

Jehovah and I have had several run-ins with this innocent looking creature, but remember, looks can be deceiving...

(undated entry)

Remembering the future...

2009-10-11T02:58:00.007-05:00

A rotting branch threatens to break as Herbert West swings his leg over it and pulls himself up. Feeling secure, he sits and removes a pair of binoculars from a small bag slung over his shoulder. Down below, Jehovah lifts his leg and pisses on the trunk of the tree that the good doctor is perched in. From his higher vantage point, Herbert can see over the slight rise in elevation that had prevented him from seeing the building nestled in the distant hills. A field of wild wheat, the stalks bending ever-so-slightly in the afternoon breeze, separates them from their destination.

The structure is impressive, even from a distance, its stone façade weather beaten and ancient looking. Herbert scans the area for activity, then jumps down from the tree and grabs Jehovah’s lease. After doing so, he bends down and picks up what looks to be a flame thrower, complete with canister.

"I still don't understand why I have to wear this thing," Jehovah said.

"We've already discussed this Jehovah," Herbert replied, "You were a bad dog…"

"I told you Herbert, I am not dog. I am your traveling companion!" Jehovah returned, with venom behind his words.

Herbert tugs at the lease, but not too hard for fear of separating Jehovah's head from his body, "Let's go boy…"

The wild wheat is tall, so tall in fact that the dog is barely visible as they meander through the field. The hills rise ahead of them and the trees fall off behind them, the building, its pillars and two-story glass windows looming large in the distance.

"What is this place?" Jehovah asked.

"I'm not sure, but it sure has piqued my interest." Herbert replied.

Upon closer inspection, the building proves to be in a state of total disrepair. The doors are off their hinges, the windows cracked or missing.

Herbert grabs a broken board and enters the building. Once inside, he rips a length of curtain from the closest window and wraps it around the end of the board. From his bag he removes a box of matches and lights the makeshift torch. The flame casts flickering shadows on the walls of an immense corridor. Rotting tapestries adorn the walls along with soot covered paintings. A statue of a Native American sitting on a headless horse greets them at the door.

"So what is this place?" Jehovah asked.

"You already asked me that once," Herbert said, clearly exasperated.

"Yes, but you didn't answer me," Jehovah replied.

"Well, from the look of things, I would say it was a museum at one time." Herbert said as he started down the hall, "Let's hope the most dangerous thing we run into is King Tut's mummy."

Their footfalls echo off the high ceilings, sending unseen flying things into a panic. They stop occasionally to investigate smaller rooms that open on both sides of the hall, most of which contain statues, suits of armor and the like.

"What are we looking for?" Jehovah asked, "And why are we risking our lives looking for it here?"

Herbert ignores the question and continues down the hall. Up ahead, the hall opens into a huge room, marble columns stress cracked by time and the weight of the building they are supporting.

Herbert and Jehovah enter the room to see row upon row of rusty hospital beds, each one adorned with one not-so-fresh corpse. Each of the bodies bound in stained straitjacket, IVs still attached to their emaciated arms.

"Now this looks interesting." Herbert said in passing, as he extinguished the torch. "It seems we've stumbled on a makeshift sanatorium."

His interest in his surroundings, which was well lit by huge windows that went from the floor to the ceiling, greater than his responsibilities, Herbert dropped Jehovah's leash and starts walking from bed to bed, checking for signs of trauma and ridiculously enough, for vital signs.

"They all seem to be dead." Herbert said to no one in particular.

"You don't say." Jehovah replied as he jumps on the chest of one of the corpses, "Whats with the flower painted on the body?"

"I'm not sure what to make of that," Herbert replied, "But it looks to be on most of them. Someone's idea of a memorial I guess."

Hearing that, Jehovah jumps down and runs to Herbert's side.

"So what do we do now?" He asked, but Herbert was too busy removing the flame thrower, or what Jehovah had thought was a flame thrower, from his back and looking it over.

"I think it's time we test my new reagent," he said: "It's not mainlined into the vein like my old reagent, but it should work wonders en mass re-animation."

"Are you sure this is a good idea Herbert?" Jehovah asked, but it was too late.

The green mist hung like a dense fog over the beds and bodies, Jehovah lost in the middle of it. Herbert worked mechanically, like a drone bee, until the whole room was saturated with reagent.

"I suggest we repair to higher ground." He said as he moved towards a flight of spiral stairs that led to the second floor.

The second floor was a catch-all for the museums items that had been removed from them main room below, but there was no time to investigate as the first of the corpses had already broken it's bonds and began to thrash around. The sound of more beds being overturned and more bodies running about was proof that the new reagent worked, but the fact that it worked was not necessarily a good thing.

As of yet, none of the bodies had followed them up the stairs, if indeed they could accomplish that feat, but several had broken through the emergency exit at the back of the building.

Herbert had taken a place at a large picture window and was watching as the re-animated corpses were spilling out into the wild wheat field behind the museum. Fascinating, Herbert thought to himself…

"Look at them…completely out of control of their own bodies. They are completely primal, bestial…" Herbert was clearly having fun.

Dozens of the insane had now emptied out of the building and were now flowing through the wheat, their tattered straitjacket flowing behind them, wraiths whose din made Jehovah's hair stand on end.

There were still several bodies moving around below them so it was decided that they would block off the top of the stairs and rest for a while. Herbert took a seat at the window, still fascinated by the tide of insanity he had unleashed.

"Jehovah," he said: "Brace yourself!"

"Brace myself for what?" then he saw it, off in the distance, a sight that put fear in all living things…a creeper.

Creepers were almost impossible to describe because unless you can fly, there is no way you can see all of one, but "flying Portuguese Man o' War" is an apt attempt.

Creepers, or sweepers as they are sometimes called, are huge creatures with an unending appetite for anything organic that when moving in pods, can literally block out the sun and several were on a collision course with the museum.

Several of the insane corpses had already succumbed to the creepers dragging tentacles. The tentacles, which are the diameter of a large tree, drag the ground looking for anything that could be used as food; trees, grass, animals, people and beast alike. The hills behind the pod were already a wasteland, devoid of anything save rocks and earth.

"Their movement is dependent on the wind, so we might just make it." Herbert said, but even he didn't sound like he believed himself.

As the massive tentacles, grouped in the dozens, dragged the ground, they crushed many of the re-animated corpses and uprooted trees only to pick up these items and raise them to the waiting mouth hidden below the bulk of the body.

The first of the pod had already made it to the museum, the consequences of which were not lost on the two, and it’s tentacles crashed into the north side of the building.

The stones began to buckle and the roof began to bow as the weight of the tentacles dragging up the side became too much.

"It's not going to hold Jehovah." Herbert said as they headed for the stairs.

They made it to the bottom of the stairs as the wall collapsed and a section of the ceiling caved in. Beds were strewn about from the orgy of re-animation and several corpses were still running around, oblivious to their surroundings.

A half-dozen of the larger tentacles had entered the structure and collapsed the floor towards the main hall and were now moving towards Herbert and Jehovah as they in turn were moving for the exit. The floor boards splintered and the beds piled up as the creature dragged them behind it.

Reaching the exit, they burst through the door and out into the field, above them the tentacled and sharply toothed mouth of the creeper blocking the sky. Behind them they hear the building collapse further as several more members of the pod drag their tentacles through it.

"This way!" Herbert yells and tugs on Jehovah's leash. The dog comes, still in one piece, and they clear the side of the building.

Looking up, Herbert realizes that they have taken the route that clears them from the path of the creepers and he drags Jehovah towards the back of the building and the devastation behind it.

"They've stripped everything, there is nothing left." Jehovah said a look of bewilderment on his sunken face.

"They seem to have chosen that direction, so I suggest we choose this one." Herbert said with a grin, and so they moved on…

(Edited on Sunday, October 11, 2009 at 11:48 AM)

Part two: A man and his dog...

2009-10-07T02:14:00.018-05:00

A machete slices the air, separating a length of pulpy green tentacle from a very long, very lively vine. Still writhing, the plant is ground underfoot as a man and his dog enter the vast valley that spreads out before them. The individual attached to the machete is cloaked in dirty white and be-goggled, his face further hidden by a mask that covers his nose and mouth. As he continues to swing, another vine falling, he struggles to carry a ridiculously large bag over his shoulder like an apocalyptic Père Noël. The bag, bulging to the point of bursting, looks to be filled with objects consisting of very odd angles.

Herbert West stops just out of reach of the slithering vines, and looks through his dust covered goggles towards the other side of the valley. The span is immense and troublesome, as almost every square foot of it is covered with the angry plants. To make matters worse, there are thickly stalked stems, the vines clustered at their base, tipped with mouths full of shredding teeth.

"We'd best get a move on Jehovah," Herbert said through the mask, a muffled imitation of his voice.

It was Jehovah who first noticed how unnaturally quiet the valley was, even though there was so much movement, so much life. The lack of noise was disconcerting…

To their left, there was a strange creature, one with three legs and no ambition to use them, which was slowly being pulled apart by a plant's lamprey-like mouth. Vines were pulling pieces of the body off in all directions, presumably to be eaten by other plants.

Herbert noticed that Jehovah had run ahead, far enough that he could no longer see the dog, another swing, another severed tentacle, and he was about to yell out his name when he caught sight of him being dragged ass-first towards an eager plant-mouth. Jehovah, his mouth forming a silent O, tried to stop himself by digging his claws into the ground, but they just slid over the loose soil, kicking up a trail of dust.

Herbert stopped, dropped the bag, and removed what looked to be an arm, an arm from something in no way human, but an arm nonetheless. Once he had procured his prize, he threw it in the direction of Jehovah and his dog napper and watched as it loosed its grip on the dog in favor of the weaker meal. Chew on this Audrey, Herbert thought to himself, and give me back my damn dog.

Making his escape, Jehovah ran balls-out in Herbert's direction and hid behind his leg, looking at the carnage beyond them.

Suddenly, the unnatural silence was shattered as thunder shook the skies, the clouds threatening rain, which would bring about an entirely different set of dangers…

Quickly and cautiously, Herbert bent down and scratched behind his dog's ear, or the spot where his ear used to be, and they continued into green hell.

Innumerable kills later, they were able to stop and survey their progress when they came across a rocky outcropping that was vine free. Barely half way across the valley, they were both exhausted and pissed to the gills.

"What the hell were you thinking Herbert?" Jehovah asked, "The most direct route is often the easiest you said."

"Would you like to go back?" Herbert replied, "We could always go back and find a way around the valley."

"The hell you say," Jehovah said: "I'm for you picking my ass up and carrying me the rest of the way!"

"You could always get in the bag with the other parts…" Herbert replied and shot him a smile, one that went unnoticed behind the mask.

Once again, the vines had found them and were starting to snake their way up the rocks. It was agreed that they should move on and attempt to be clear of the valley before nightfall. The weather was holding, and they hoped to find shelter before it broke.

A few close calls later, they were standing at the outer edge of green hell and on the upper rim of the valley. They stood there for a long moment, looking out over what they had endured.

Jehovah gasped, trying to catch his breath, when he turned to see Herbert running back into the tangle of vines.

"What the hell are you…?" Jehovah's question was cut short when he saw Herbert dragging something from the valley.

"I had heard they existed, but I had never seen one!" Herbert exclaimed.

"Heard what existed? Seen what, what the hell is that thing?" Jehovah asked.

"You'll see…you'll see!" Herbert was like an excited child, his enthusiasm evident through the mask and goggles.

Even before he could drag it clear of the hungry plants, the creature started to decompose. As it did so, it released an Aurora Borealis of colors. Unearthly hues that took their breath away…

"How," Jehovah asked, "How is that possible?"

"Well you see Jehovah," Herbert was in his element here, "the gases being emitted by the decomposition of the body combined with the toxins in the air…" Herbert's explanation trailed off as a new round of colors were being released.

What they saw then would change their views on death forever and amidst the chaos of the day, they actually took the time to sit down and watch the creature decompose…

The colors began to fade with the memory, and Herbert heard his name being repeated, "Wesssst...Wesssssssssst."

Herbert West awoke to a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his days, Jehovah was licking his face.

Startled, Herbert tried to crab-crawl backwards, but stopped when he hit a stone wall. "Never do that again!" he said: "I didn't like you doing that when you were still a dog."

"You look like hell." Jehovah said matter-of-factly.

Ignoring him, Herbert looked around, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings.

After a moment he asked, "What happened to the fish-men?"

"Some were killed; others ran off," Jehovah replied, "Something came out of the water that looked like a walking rib-cage. Guess we weren't on the menu."

Off in the distance several water-striders could be seen grazing. The size of Volkswagen Beetles, their spider-like legs skimmed the water, their feeding tubes dredging up food.

"The Deep Ones don't scare easy, and they won't stay gone for long, so we should be off." Herbert said and was already trying to get to his feet, "I saw a suspension bridge up ahead that I want to check out."

"You're the boss." Jehovah replied, his tail wagging.

They walked the waters edge for a considerable distance; then cut across an overgrown park. Wooden spikes dotting the unkempt lawn, several of them adorned with the heads of dead things.

"Across the way, do you see it?" Herbert asked, "There's the suspension bridge I saw earlier. We should be able to find a suitable vehicle there."

"A vehicle for what may I ask?" Jehovah asked.

"We're taking a trip, a trip out west…" and that was all Herbert had to say.

(Edited on Wednesday, October 7, 2009 at 1o:54 AM, edited again on Friday, October 9, 2009 at 10:34 PM, final edit on Saturday, October 10, 2009 at 9:44 PM and Sunday, October 11, 2009 at 11:48 AM and Wednesday, October 14, 2009 at 3:19 PM)

Writing on the monolith walls...

2009-10-07T00:02:00.006-05:00

And cyclopean monoliths rose from the ruined Earth with disregard for city and life alike...

- unknown

Part one: An oar for rowing, an oar for swinging…

2009-09-23T02:19:00.051-05:00

The sky was the color of rust, the clouds the color of steel…

"Wesssst...Wesssssssssst," The words tugged at Herbert West's backbrain, threatening to pluck it from his skull and send it screaming into the wastes. In one fluid motion, a syringe slid down from a hidden compartment inside his shirt sleeve and he quickly administered a small dose of reagent into the base of his skull. Almost immediately, the pressure on his brain receded, but the remedy was becoming problematic as his reserves were frighteningly low.

The pain gone, he resumed rowing the small metal fishing boat he had procured from the storeroom of a sporting goods store. It had been overturned when he found it, and had become the home of something almost human. The thing protested, but did nothing to stake its claim on the boat and merely slipped into the shadows.

Like most coastal towns, Arkham being no different, the streets became waterways once the sewers backed up, almost like Venice for monsters, so boats were a much more practical means of locomotion than say cars, or for that matter, walking.

Herbert struggled with the oars, his arms more accustomed to plunging syringes and mixing chemicals than rowing. Jehovah stood at the bow of the boat, his front paws straddling the sides of the small craft's apex, his human head taking in the sights and sounds of this unfamiliar locale. He turned towards Herbert, "Wish I could help with that, but as you can see," he held up a dogs paw, "No hands." He turned back towards the front of the boat, a smile on his face.

Before Herbert could respond, he caught movement to his right. They had entered a canyon of glass and steel, rubble strewn about from crumbling buildings. The structures in this section of town were a mismatched lot that sagged and leaned, several of them leaning towards one another forming tunnels over the water. One building in particular looked like nothing more than a concrete skeleton upon which perched a handful of black winged creatures that took flight when Herbert rowed into view.

The aforementioned motion came in the form of cancer demons, this generation's gremlin, as several of them were skittering over piles of debris, gravity seeming to have no effect on them. Cancer demons were fairly harmless creatures as they spent most of their time looking for things to smoke, although they have been known to smoke the occasional arm or leg. Their skin was pale and cancerous, pustules rising then bursting, releasing a sickly smoke into the air. Their heads hairless, elf-eared and spotted with six eyes. The two examples on display here had already found their vice, the smaller of the two smoking a fat Cuban cigar, the other one's mouth looking like a red ashen chimney as it smoked what looked to be dozens of cigarettes all at once.

"Filthy creatures," Jehovah said: "Filthy creatures with a filthy habit."

"They're harmless really," Herbert replied, "Besides, everyone has their filthy habits...wouldn't you agree?"

"If that's a licking your balls joke..."

Suddenly, a demon appeared directly in front of Herbert. Unfazed, he sat back, put his arms behind his head and let the demon go about its business. The demon looked him over; disturbing considering it had six eyes, and set about its task of looking through his clothing. Its mouth, which took up entirely too much of its face, was a disgusting display of rotten teeth and bad intentions.

It plunged its long fingered hands into Herbert's shirt, feeling around for something, anything that might be of use to it. Its calloused skin skimmed delicately, almost insect-like across Herbert's torso...

Finding nothing, it let out a disgusted cough, which unseated the remaining black-winged creatures, turned to look towards Jehovah, then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Herbert looked in the direction it had gone and shrugged his shoulders.

"Like I said Herbert," Jehovah said with a disgusted look on his face, "Filthy creatures."

Their boat bumped into something, or some things, the noise echoing off the buildings. Jehovah looked down, the river beneath them a steaming stew whose ingredients consisted of trash, bodyparts, not all of which were human, and living things that neither of them could identify.

The sun was directly overhead and barely perceptible through the gray clouds, the rust colored sky turning it into a painful red color. After their recent excitement, Jehovah was content to just lie on his back, balls to the sky, a sight that Herbert could have done without...

"So why the trip?" Jehovah asked.

"For the sake of science," Herbert replied. "I need to see all there is to see, learn all there is to learn."

"Bullshit!" Jehovah coughed, trying to put a paw over his mouth. "We're on a dead run, aren't we Herbert?"

"But of course." Herbert replied and this time, it was his turn to smile...

The rest of the afternoon went on without incident, the silence interrupted by the sound of oars moving water and the occasional collision with river things. Up ahead, Herbert spied a suspension bridge that looked to be covered with cars. As good a place as any to look for the vehicle they would eventually need for their cross-country trip. Boats will only take us so far, Herbert thought to himself, Once we hit the Mississippi, the waters will cease and the deserts will rise.

The shadows of evening were gaining strength, when a violent rocking stirred Jehovah from a deep, peaceful sleep. The first thing he noticed was Herbert standing above him, an oar raised above his head. The second thing he noticed, as he attempted a scream, a scaly pair of hands pulling on the side of the boat.

"Deep One!" Herbert exclaimed as he tried to keep his footing.

Jehovah rolled over and got to his feet. Within seconds he had his mouth wrapped around several of the scaly fingers, the webbing between them tearing in his teeth.

"Step away from the fish-man," Herbert said and swung the oar, threatening to send both of them in the water. The swing missed, the rocking boat throwing off his aim, and the oar splintered, sending shards of it in all directions. Almost before he knew what he was doing, Jehovah picked up one of the bigger splinters with his mouth and drove it deep into the fish-man's hand. The pain was obvious, but his plan backfired, as the thrashing of the injured creature, coupled with Herbert's uneven wobbling, capsized the boat sending them all into the litter strewn water. Jehovah's instincts took over and he began to doggy paddle towards the shore, looking back to see if Herbert had followed. Seeing nothing but the overturned boat, he turned in time to see both Herbert and the fish-man burst from the water, their arms at each other's throats.

After what seemed like several minutes of thrashing, Herbert managed to free himself from the creature's grasp only to have it put him in a headlock and fall backwards into the water, Herbert's legs standing upright as he sank. Again, they surfaced, Herbert lifting the fish-man out of the water by his gill slits. It bellowed, releasing a mighty frog-like croak. Herbert took the opportunity and began to climb onto the island that was the boat, the wounded creature on his shirt tails. It lunged at him, shredding pants and leg alike, then looked up to see Herbert's counter-lunge, a syringe in his hand. The syringe, green fluid glowing in the moonlight, plunged deep into the fish-man's gills, sending it into violent convulsions which when ceased, left it floating face down in the water.

His energy spent, Herbert tried his best to swim towards Jehovah, but failing in his effort, waited for him to drag him to shore.

Neither saying anything, they both lay on the rocky shore, which was actually the front steps of an impressive piece of architecture, and watched as a half-dozen deep ones emerged from the water. Their eyes bulging and lips pouting, their mottled skin dripping with water.

Then their world went black...

(Edited on Wednesday, September 23, 2009 at 11:15 AM, edited again on Friday, September 25, 2009 at 8:36 PM with the help of K.L. Young, final edit on Sunday, September 27, 2009 at 6:16 PM, Tuesday, September 29, 2009 at 7:17 PM, Wednesday, September 30, 2009 at 1:15 PM and Sunday, October 11, 2009 at 11:48 AM)