Eyes on Final Fantasy Forums > General > Writer's Corner > The Rumpus Room

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Hey everyone! I saw that there was a writers corner on this forum, and thought you all might enjoy some fiction for reading!

Now, this is all just recreational fun-happy-time writing, and I didn't spend exorbant amounts of time on it, so here goes!

Its called: The Rumpus Room

It actually was first posted on my blog, here:http://hobomatt55.blogspot.com/ (Check there for updates)





Act I:

So here I am, on a Thursday night. Chillin. You know, minding my own buisness when all of a sudden, I hear a loud scratching comming from downstairs. Like nails on a chalk board.

My ears peark up, and my curiosity grows within me.

I decide I must go and investigate.

I get out of my black leather office chair, and walk across the offices' flesh-coloured berber carpet. I peeked my head around the corner, and down the stairs.

Nothing.

Just the emptiness of the usual steps. Nothing unusual.

The scratching started up again. This time louder. Because of my location change?
Only possible awnser. I scan the room below, looking specifically at the window frames and ceiling windows.

Damn!

The blinds where shut closed tightly. Do I have to go down and open them? Only possible awnser. I starred blankly at the windows, trying to devise a plan on how to open them without going downstairs. Nothing.

"What the hell, lets go for it." I said to myself. I creeped down the stairs, step my step.

Each step I took, the noised got louder and louder. Imagine an unbearable sound. One of those pet peeves. The sound of fingers on a chalk board or a knife skreeching aross and empty plate.

The room that had become my destination was one willed with various entertainment furniture. COuches, pool table, TV's etc littered the large rectangular room. The walls of the room had been painted white at the time it was first craft, but it was easily visible that some amateur came along and attempted to cover the sacred first coat with a thing layer of "tope" coloured paint.

I had gotten so caught up in analyzing the room, that before I knew it, I had reached my dreadful destination. The rumpus room.





Act II: (Written about a week later... so some details dont correspond)

My bare, cold feet pressed down onto the tan carpet of the large room. The pitter-patter sound of rain hitting the skylights slowly gained volume, and the scratching continued.

I slowly creeped over to the window, remembering my task of checking and securing the windows for any sides of the source of the sound.

I examined the windows from a few feet away, looking at the blinds that were covering them, inspecting every aspect of them.

The blinds covering the large windows were the colour tan as well, completely covering the front, leaving a small amount of room around the edge for beams to seep through.

Nothing unusual about that.

By that time, I was only 1 foot from the window, the scratching sound louder than ever.

I extended my left arm to grab the blind control string and pull it up.

The blinds were half-way up the window when the zombie reached its cold hands through the window at an attempt to grab me by my shirt.

The world seemed to slow, as my thoughts and my actions shot through my head in rapid succession.

I came to multiple conclusions. The scratching noise was caused by the zombie attempting to get in. It had sensed my opening the blinds, and acted accordingly, smashing straight through the glass window, sending hundreds of glass shards flying through the air.

At the same instant of processing this, my natural reaction to the situation shot through my brain, and I fell to the floor landing on my back, using my foot to send the zombie flying over me.

Close quarters combat is nothing more than control. Controlling the flow of force used between two combatants during close combat is essential to any winning contestant. If one can merely direct and channel the opponents excessive use of force, then one can exert no effort and no energy but merely use the opponents excessive expenditure to his advantage.

I did just that. I shot my foot in the air, landing my bare foot into the zombies stomach, and used its excessive force to guide it safely over myself, and successfully damaging parrying the first blow.

The next steps to come flowed through my head like a twig running down a rapid river. I decided I would first immobilize this stray zombie by breaking its form of transportation, its legs.

I rolled to my right, and quickly shot up to feet, opening my palms in anticipation for the next attack.

The zombie regained its footing and rose to its feet remembering its prey and desire for human flesh, turned to me, and ran straight for me with arms flailing.

The next set of maneuvers I executed with swift precision, paying special attention to the finish. I ducked below its left arm, grabbed it and pulled it behind its back, then used my right foot to smash the zombies knee joint, causing a clean break of the anterior and medial cruciate ligaments, ceasing all walking.

It crumpled to the ground, not once showing any sign of pain.

Fighting a zombie was far different than fighting a human for a couple of reasons. One of which was stamina. Zombies, already being dead, require no recovery time for energy, and attack at will, one hundred percent of the time. Secondly, zombies felt no pain and therefore require a finishing blow as soon as possible. This made for an enemy to be feared.

Thanks to previous medial coverage of the local zombie invasion, I had been informed on the best ways for exterminating such foes. Destroy its brain.

I backed a few feet away from the writhing corpse, and took a couple seconds to catch my breath. The zombie was still alive... in a physical sense anyway, and was now crawling with its arms towards me at a slow pace.

Standing there, I was all of a sudden entranced by this creature. It was a man of forty-something, wearing a blood-stained white collard business shirt, and a ripped bright red tie. The zombie had dark brown hair, and blazing blue eyes. The eyes are what caught my attention. It was as if they shot straight through me, seeing and hearing everything I thought.

I shook my head out of the trance, and remembered the long sharp shuriken I had put in my pocket earlier in anticipation for this sort of event.

The gleam from the shuriken as it flew through the air from my hand to the zombies skull, shined across my face for a split second before is ceased the zombies existence.

I then sat at the couch adjacent to the zombies now movement-less corpse, and let out a deep breath.

My heart was beating fast, sending gravity signals in all directions.

I then thought for a second. Nothing came to mind. This whole encounter couldn't have taken more than a minute, but it had seemed like ten.

The serene setting of the rumpus room was now skewed. Its former simple perfection had been ruined by shards of glass, ruined blinds, a dead corpse, and sprays of blood.

It then came to me, the next task that I must complete. It was time to secure now insecure window.

________________________________________ __

TO BE CONCLUDED!!!




Anyways, thanks for reading! I am very open to constructive critisism!!!