Zack was just a normal, perverted teenager. That is, until the dead started walking. But what happens when a ninja gets bitten?
Zack was just a normal, perverted teenager. That is, until the dead started walking. But what happens when a ninja gets bitten? Read more
About this project
I've posted a large portion of the short story that inspired this project below to give every one a feel for the characters of the novel and a basis of the story line of the novel. It is the first draft and unedited, so be prepared for typos. Everyone that sponsors this project will receive the full edited and complete short story. Thanks for giving me a chance.
Lets see, this really all started with a discussion between me and my younger brother. We were trying to create the perfect monster. Not just for fun, we aren't quite that nerdy, but it was for an RPG.
So from there I wrote the short story below. My goal in this project is to raise enough money to not only hire an LSU art student to help illustrate a graphic novel based off of the short story, but also enough money to produce a starting number of books to sell.
The graphic novel will pretty much start at the same place as the short story but continue on into the adventure of the 4 main characters. Its fun, full of action and just enough comedy to keep me satisfied. I really hope all of you like the story, and that you you decide to help me get this project off the ground. Thanks again to all of you.
------------------- Zombie Ninjas The Short Story ---------------------
The world has been taken over by flesh eating bitchass zombies. It sucked. I was 16 when it started, and hadn’t a clue in the world how I’d survived longer than the first day. I couldn’t fight, I was a bedroom recluse, and the only skill I had was first person shooter training on the 360. Oh shit, now I know why I survived.
My dads gun. Top drawer, to the left, wrapped in the “I love beer” shirt. It was a 45, 13 in the clip, 1 in the chamber, and a box of rounds in the sock next to it.
“Dad? Hey Dad, I’ma borrow your gun, mk?” Of course he wasn’t gonna answer. I had just spent 30 minutes being chased and chasing, both of my parents through the house. They were locked in the bathroom moaning. I figured since they raised me, that I wouldn’t killem. So I tossed our dog Juke in there to givem something to gnaw on for a while, till I got my Zombie survival kit together.
Fuckin hell yeah I had a Zombie survival kit! Ok I didn’t have one put together per say, but I did already have everything planned out in my head. I had taken like a dozen of those online Zombie Apocalypse test thingies. Scored %99 survival rate on every one of them. I knew my shit. Even if they weren’t real at the time.
Out the front door, looked to the left, then the right. Planted a bullet between Mr. Simons eyes. That jackass wasn’t even a zombie, but he ran over my bike the week before and tried to say it was my fault. Jackass. From there, somehow, I had managed to survive for 7 years in this god forsaken world. Lost my virginity to a 87 year old on her death bed. What? The world was a different place. And I’d never had sex before, so it was awesome. Like warm apple pie awesome. And lived on a stricked diet of what the fuck ever I could get my hands on. What the hell did you think I ate? The McDonalds only stayed opened for a few weeks after the dead started walking. After that, I had to freaking ruff it.
Not many of the people I knew in my previous life survived the first wave of Eaters. That’s what we called the Zombies on account of they just fuckin ate anything that moved. I mean anything. I saw a car set in neutral one day, and I swear a dozen of them spent over an hour trying to make a meal of it.
Earl was the first stop I made on my way out of the neighborhood. We had grown up together. I wouldn’t say he was my best friend, but we were pretty close. When we were 13, we masturbated to the same picture in one of my dads playboys to see who could finish first. I’m still not sure who actually won, him for finishing first or me for taking longer to jack it, less than a foot away from another guy holding his own cock in his hand. Its odd though, because he still brings it up whenever he finishes first at something. “Ha! Its just like when we were 13! I beat you again.” His door was opened, ‘crap’ I thought. This wasn’t going to be a pretty site.
I pushed the door a bit more and squeezed in. Something was blocking it from opening all the way. Pistol ready and pointed down I noticed what it was. A body, all the way dead though. A gaping hole in the back of its scull reassured me of that. “Earl!” I whispered as loud as I could, as if a really loud whisper was less likely to rouse an eater from what it was doing in order to persue me. I knew it wasn’t any better than just calling his name, but Hollywood has it hammered in my head that no bad guys can ever hear a whisper, no matter how loud it is. As long as I don’t let out the smallest most quiet whimper or murmur, then they would never know I was here. “Ear…” fuck the whisper shit “Earl!” I yelled his name. Not half a second later a mother fuckin Eater was sprinting around the god damn corner going for my throat. By god, Hollywood was right. Damn me for not believing in the whisper effect. My feet were tangled in the corpse’s limbs. I went down fast and hard. My gun slipped from my hand, hitting the ground and going off. I didn’t see what happened but I figured it out when the limp corps of the eater hit the floor sliding and stopping inches away from my face. A bullet hole through his cheek and out the left side of his head. That shit was crazy.
“Zack?” I heard a hard whisper coming from inside the living room.
“Yeah. Earl?” I hard whispered back.
“Dude what the fuck?” Still hard whispering, “ Haven’t you ever watched a zombie movie? They apparently cant hear whispers, no matter how loud they are. But make sure not to let out even the quietest-“
“Yes I freaking know that now.” I cut him off and picked myself up, grabbing my gun. “Are your parents still alive?”
“Yeah, locked in the bathroom. I couldn’t bring myself to killem’, cuz they raised me and all.”
“Ha ha, yeah mine too, where are you dude?” I peaked my head around the corner. The living room seemed empty.
“…………” nothing from Earl for a few moments “I’m” he hesitated “I’m in the couch bed man.”
“Im stuck. Climbed in here after locking the folks up and I shot that one by the door. I heard more in the house so I figured itd be good hiding. But now I’m stuck. Been like this for a few hours.” The couch bed bottom moved as he spoke.
After getting Earl out and disposing of the last eater in the house, which so happened to be a mostly naked Sara Holmes, we gathered a few more supplies and hit the street again.
“Dude, did you see Sara’s tits? I touched one after we shot her.” Fuckin Earl.
“Yeah man, she was an Eater though, so it doesn’t count” I shook my head.
“Yes it does” Fuckin Earl, we were silent for a good while after that.
Its still unclear to me how we were able to survive for the month and a half until we found refuge at a camp set up outside of the city. I sort of made the whole thing a game. We came up with some real creative ways of killing the eaters. Even tallied points for the most creative. I gotta hand the best to Earl though. That motherfucker has some balls.
After days of building, what I can only describe as a giant mouse trap. Earl came to me giggling and beckoning me to come watch. So I did. He slid his pistol into a slot at the base of the area he was standing on and picked up a rock. I stood silently behind a building corner. I saw him sling the rock as hard as he could then drop trou. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw an eater making her way towards him. Next thing I know the sick dipshit starts spankin it. Hes going at it hard and fast too. His fat belly jiggling, an involuntary truffle shuffle. As the chick zombie made it onto the contraption, the giant spring loaded pole came slamming down atop her. And as her head hit the pedestal, Earls pistol went off, blowing her brains out the back of her head. “Damn it!” he whisper shouted “I couldn’t finish before my gun went off.”
In any case, we stumbled upon a campsite of about a hundred survivors. It was nice, almost like a normal life again. Everyone had duties to keep up within the camp, but aside from that, people just kind of came and went throughout the day. If food was found, we all shared, and if liquor was found, we all drank.
Earl and I had a camp set up next to K Gunther, a fat toad looking man. His shirt was never dry and the foul smell that radiated from his arm pits was better masked by the rotting flesh of Eaters. In the old life he was a mob boss. Of course here he had no rule over anyone. The henchmen he did have before had all been sacrificed in order to buy him time to escape himself. Here he did little to carry his load, so he was what the group called the “Cleaner”. It was an utterly disgusting job that was deemed his after his laziness pissed off one too many in the site. He was sent to remove the zombies entrails, body parts and whatever else mess there was from the booby traps set around the camps parameters. It was by no means a pretty job. But I guess after years of disposing of bodies in the mob, he had to of gotten used to it.
Caroline occupied the tent on the other side of us. She was smoking hot. So so so hot. But a total bitch. Apparently no one sent her the e-mail that the world had ended and being a bitch was no longer the cool thing to do. But she also knew how to fight. And I think that made up for her attitude. I watched her take out 4 walkers and an ass hole in 15 seconds without a gun. Had to walk around with my hands cupped over my pants for half an hour. In the old life she was married to some martial arts army general superstar or something. She says he was killed by an Eater in his sleep, but watching how she fights, I’m sure she had something to do with it.
And then there was Jimmy the crazy who occupied the space directly across from us. I’ve laid eyes on Jimmys shlong on more than a couple dozen instances. No one is really sure if he was like he is in the old life, or if he just lost it one day before wondering into camp. He rarely spoke in coherent sentences, and when he did it was always something about government cover-ups and conspiracy theories. “It’s the damn Nazis again” or “I bet its just another way for the insurance companies to make money” were a few of the conversations I mistakenly got myself into by simply walking out of my tent. I just wish I had listened to him the day he warned me without actually knowing so.
Again I had volunteered myself up to a babble conversation with el loco Jimmy by walking out of my tent one night to take a piss. “You ever think” he started the conversation, “about the fucking Ninjas man?” He stood grabbing my arm lightly, a look of desperation in his eyes.
“Yes the Ninjas! I mean think about it. There, lost in the furthest reageons of the world, they take kids starting so young they cant even talk. And they train them in the art of ninjaing.” Ninjaing he says. “For years these kids are tortured and trained to be the deadliest assassins on the face of the planet.”
“Jimmy, c’mon man, I know what a Ninja is” I turned to walk away.
“What happens when one of them gets bitten?” It was that sentence that plays over and over in my head still to this day. “ What happens when the worlds deadliest assassin becomes the worlds deadliest monster?”
“Don’t worry Jimmy, I’m sure that if Ninjas still existed, that they would be the ones least likely to be bitten. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta take a piss.” The truth is, in the back of my head, what he said made a logical point. What would happen? Here we were where zombies walk the earth like New Yorkers during lunch time, why couldn’t Ninjas be real too? And if they are real, what the shit happens if one or more get bitten? I mean seriously, a freaking ninja by himself , with his throwing stars and curvy sword, is fucking scary enough. But having something that deadly, become even more deadly, could end the human race as we know it.
The thought lay nestled in my mind, while I made my way to my pissing spot behind the tent.
“Damnit Earl!” There he was, pants around his ankles, wiener in hand, peering into Caroline’s tent as she undressed for the evening.
“Shit dude, just gimme a couple more minutes” it was amazing that he never stopped. Not even while making eye contact with me.
Life went on, shoot a zombie here, cut off a zombies head there. Just regular everyday motions. I guess it had been a couple of years by then. Our camp had grown a lot smaller. Some just decided to move on. Hoping that there was a better life out there. Others were eaten. Poor Earl fell victim himself. He had to try the giant mouse trap again. The poor bastard went out dick in hand. A faulty triggering mechanism. He finally finished before his gun went off though. I’m sure if he had to pick a way, it’d be while masturbating.
I was out, about a days travel from the camp. It was nice to get away from the normal, and just explore for a while. At the camp, we had crops for food, so there was never really a reason to go scouting any more except for medicine. So every now and then I just had to get out.
Dusk was about an hour away when I walked up on an old country house. Nothing too special. 2 stories, basic white with green trim. Some type of ivy was growing up the walls and the years of landscape neglect had it nearly hidden. Looks promising, so I let myself in the front door. Of course had I known that it was poison ivy growing all up the fucking house I would have taken better care at removing it before just jumping in. I swear, sometimes it’s the stupidest things that make you regret waking up in the morning.
And of course it was dark inside. Some light protruded through the small gaps in the vines over the windows. My eyes just had to adjust.
Kitchen would be the first stop. It’d been at least 12 hours since I last ate, and famished was an understatement. It was astounding! The kitchen looked as if it had been cleaned and kept up all these years. Even the salt and pepper shaker were placed and full at the table. No dishes in the sink, rotted meat or molded bread. It was the oasis in the desert. Now the cupboard. When I opened the door, I swear a light straight from heaven washed over me filling my soul with the warm love of the Holy Spirit. There in front of me , from floor to ceiling, sat shelf upon shelf of canned and jarred foods. It was enough food to feed the entire campsite for weeks, and plenty to feed one person for half a lifetime. The site was that of a kid who was told he could go crazy in an ice cream slash candy slash toy store. Before I even knew what I was doing, 6 jars sat opened in front of me, and my mouth full to the point of choking.
A good meal, now it was time to explore the rest of the house. It was kept much the same as the kitchen. Clean, no dust, and everything in its place. Odd and relaxing. Upstairs were the bedrooms. Beds made. Then came a noise. From across the hall. It was a thump, then a moan. I froze in my tracks.
“Hello?” I let out a whisper.
No answer. Then another thump followed by a moan. It sounded like it was coming from the closet in what looked to be a teenage boys room. I eased in, gun in hand. Thump then moan. The previous tenants must have locked an Eater in the closet before cleaning everything up and getting out of town. A bead of sweat caressed my cheek and made its way into my mouth. Left hand extended and right holding my gun at shoulder height, I twisted the closet door knob slowely. Jerking it open and jumping back, I saw what it was. A fucking sex doll! I guess something had fallin on it and turned it on. My heart pounded in my throat. Im pretty sure I died for a split second. My nerves gathered themselves and I came back to reality. Then of course, I took advantage of the opportunity at hand.
This place was heaven. All of my man pleasures taken care of in one place, and no one around to judge me for indulging in 2 of the 7 sins. A quick once over of the house, then it was bed time.
I felt eyes on me, that’s what woke me up. I couldn’t see anything, or hear any movement. But I definitely felt like I was being watched. Eyes wide, I lay and waited and waited. My finger on the trigger, ready for anything. The room black, and so silent it was almost loud. There it was, long hair brushing up against a neck. Without hesitation, in the direction of the sound, I was able to press my gun against flesh. At the exact moment I felt the cold edge of a steel blade rest against my neck.
“Who are you” the voice of a young woman whispering. “Why are you in my house?”
I didn’t reply, the only thought that was in my head was whether or not she saw what I did with the doll. And also, why the crap does she have a sex doll. And lastly, was she hot?
“I asked you a question stranger. I suggest you answer.” The blade pressed more firmly to my throat.
I cocked the hammer back on my pistol “I think we both just need to relax.”
“You eat my food!” her whispers grew more intense “You plunder through my house. And you do unmentionable things to Shyan.”
“My best friend in the closet”
Shame, guilt and embarrassment washed over me. I was caught. And how creepy is it that she watched?
How the hell did she know that’s what I was thinking? “How the hell did you know what I was thinking?”
The sound of flint on metal then a small flame appeared. It slowly rose until it illuminated both of our faces. She was young, maybe late teens. Skin so pale, you could almost see through her. It looked as if she hadn’t seen the sun since this all began. Straight, jet black, hair, and eyes emerald green.
“Alright, look” I took a deep calming breath in “I’m sorry I played with your doll-”
“I’m sorry I played with Sasha” another relaxing breath in. This chick was starting to rub me wrong. “I didn’t know anyone lived her okay? I was an honest mistake.” The flame went out.
“What are you doing here?” She hadn’t removed the knife.
“I’m just passing b- shhhhhhh” Our conversation would have to wait. We were no longer alone in the house. It was faint, almost as if a mouse had done it, but those creaky stairs wouldn’t let any one sneak in hear unnoticed. Then what sounded like cloth brushing against the wall. Whatever was in here with us was moving fast.
We both lowered our weapons as the knob on the door twisted. My eyes had adjusted to the lack of lighting, and the full moon shining a bit into the room helped. Gun raised, cocked, and pointed at Eater head shooting level.
The door opened just a crack, and everything after that was hard to make out. I pulled the trigger, and missed. I never miss. What the fuck? I swear it dodged the fucking bullet. And it was in the room. I hadn’t quite made out what exactly it was yet. I know I saw decay, I know it smell like an eater, but nothing about the way this thing is moving resembles an Eater in any way. Its fast, and organized. Like it has a plan. I saw it on the ceiling, on the freaking ceiling! Shoot, miss. I rolled away from whatever I heard coming at me, then a sharp pain in my shoulder. The girl nowhere to be seen. I shot again, I know I hit the bastard that time. Nope. Fuck!
Left to right, up then down. This thing was climbing the walls and darting every which way so fast I almost couldn’t keep track. I made it to my feet, and bolted towards the door. I heard the sound of metal wizzing through the air again in my direction. Ducked, but now fast enough. Whatever it was put a slice into the small of my back. What the hell was this thing. And why the crap did it keep throwing things at me?
“Over here, hurry!” I heard the girl calling me from down the hall. I slammed the door behind me and bolted in her direction. I could hear the thing in the other room make its way to the door just as I made mine to the girl. She disappeared again. What the hell?
Aim and shoot again as the bedroom door opened. Hit. But only in the chest. That does me no good with an Eater. That’s when I notice something shiny in its hand. A really long blade it looked like. A freaking sword! An Eater with a sword! I almost shit my pants. And then it advanced, fast, dodging every bullet I sent its way. I [had lost. I knew at this moment I was gonna die. I wasted my last round into the wall at the other end of the hallway, and a mother flipping Eater was running at me with a goddamn japaneese sword raised above its head. I closed my eyes and accepted my death. Just as my lids closed, I heard the boom from a gun, and a plop of a body.
One eye closed, the other squinted open, I saw the limp body of the monster that was after us. And then the girl step out of a crack in the wall, smoking barrel in hand.
“I’m Beth by the way” she said as she blew the tip of the gun.
Risks and challenges
The main risk is that I wont be able to ever sell a copy of this novel outside of the actual fund raising of this project.
The main challenges that will be faced is in the illustration of the novel its self. I plan to work side by side with another artist, and since I have trouble with this type of illustrating it may be hard to get exactly how I see the novel across to the other artist. I'm extremely picky, and have a lot of faith in this project, so getting it perfect is the only option.
There is a chance that creating a graphic novel such as this could take longer than expected. I really hope it doesn't, but with detailed illustrations sometimes one can get caught up and lose time.
Looking at worse case, there could be a delay on getting the physical copies of the novel printed and shipped on time. This largely depends on how many copies are actually reserved. I put a cap of a thousand on both the paper back and the hard cover for that reason. Of course the printing company still has the ball on how long it takes to actually print the copies. I am fairly confident that I have allowed enough time for all of the rewards to be fulfilled within the time promised. If we are faced with the worse case, I personally will notify everyone on the list that would be affected.
I'm really hoping that at the very least my story and novel will be reserved by enough people to make this project successful. After a successful campaign on Kickstarter, I plan to have more copies of the graphic novel printed up to be distributed through online and bookstores. It'll be a real gamble to put it in the world market, but if its interesting and attractive enough to be successful on Kickstarter it will be worth the risk in trying to sell it to the public as well.Learn about accountability on Kickstarter
Have a question? If the info above doesn't help, you can ask the project creator directly.
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