Serial Story: Lisa’s Story: Zombie Apocalypse

Part One

Part One now complete.  Part Two release to be determined.

About Lisa’s Story: Zombie Apocalypse

Lisa is a trans woman. She knows what it’s like to be on guard around people but this is a whole new level. The dead have started walking and killing the living. What will she do to survive? Can she trust other survivors? When is the right time to disclose your trans status in a zombie apocalypse?

Author’s Note: As a trans woman and zombie movie watcher, I sometimes wondered, “Where are all the LGBT people? Especially trans people. I’ve seen a few gay guys and lesbians but hardly any trans people in zombies stories. As a trans woman this bothered me because I wholly intend to survive the zombie apocalypse. This story was born out of a desire to have something centered on a trans woman fighting zombies even if I had to write it myself.

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Scientist of Death #1

Author note: I am going to be posting more “issues” of this story but it won’t be on a weekly basis. Next week starts the run of Lisa’s Story: Zombie Apocalypse on Mondays. S.O.D #2 may come out the following week on Wednesday and bi-weekly after that but no promises.

Retail at Christmas time is a special kind of hell. On it’s own retail is hell but when the holidays come around it’s like dropping further down a couple of levels into the pit. The crush of people who can’t put a shirt back on a hanger or pick up the toys their kids have scattered or read the signs listing our holiday hours.

And the questions they ask:

“Do you have this in a medium?” I will burn you where you stand with my laser death ray for not understanding the overly simple ordering of the small, medium, large clothing racks… I mean,*smile*, let me check for you.

“Do you have a dressing room?” I will turn you into an ice sculpture with my ice death ray. No, we force everyone to guess their size and engage in a lengthy buy, return, and buy in different size cycle… I mean, *smile*, it’s right there to the left behind the purses.

Not that I would kill or maim anyone. I’ve hung up my death rays and locked away my powered armor with kung fu grip. I have a simple life with a simple plan: Don’t make waves, just live out your life as an ordinary woman. It’s complicated by two facts: I am– was a super villain and I’m a trans woman.

Read the rest here.

1898 Quarter

1898 Quarter head 1898 Quarter tail

Today while I was working, I opened a roll of quarters to make change for a customer and saw this odd quarter.  When I got a better look at it, I saw the date on it was 1898.  After I got off work, I asked my manager if I could exchange a new quarter for it and he agreed. If I wanted to sell it, I could only get $5-$10 dollars for it according to the sites I found.  I don’t have any plans to sell it.  I think it’s neat to have a 118 year old sliver quarter, so I’m keeping it.

Watchtower at the End of the World

The watchtower was built out of the wreckage of our homes. The first watchtower attracted wyverns. We think the cleric’s blessing of the sanctuary did not reach high enough to repel them and he would not climb to the top to bless it. The second tower we built shorter and have not been bothered by the wyverns. It’s a simple structure, a ladder leading to a flat platform covered by a tarp.

A fairy alighted on my shoulder singing a happy wordless tune. I smiled. Since they came to stay with us, within the walls, they had mostly been silent. We used to hear them, many more than were left, singing often in the woods but the enemy burnt and slashed and trampled it flat. They were hesitant at first to be near people. The children left food for them on the walls and slowly they made themselves known to us.

Read the rest here.

Note: This is part of a small collection of stories set in a fantasy world that has fallen to a great evil.

Dragon’s Hoard: Ogreslayer

Annie sat at her customary table in the back of the tavern. Marion had been kind enough to have a wide bench seat for her installed against the wall. It was a slow night, not too crowded, mostly regulars from the village and a couple of travelers who seemed to have taken notice of her. She avoid looking at them not wanting to encourage them but after a while they walked over to her table.

“Hello sir–” one began but she cut him off without looking up.

“I’m not a sir.” She scratched the stubble on her neck. It was time to get another potion from the healer in the next village over. Its effects were minor; a slight softening of her features, halting her beard growth, and the small breasts that were almost unnoticeable on her hugely muscled chest. They mostly did not stop people who didn’t know her from calling her sir but they made her feel better.

Read the rest here.

Dragon’s Hoard is the overarching name for this story series about older, retired, and/or disabled adventurers in a fantasy setting who are brought together for a special job. This is the first of a few character pieces before they are brought together for the main story.

What’s the Last Thing You Remember?

I’m seven years old.

“She’s waking up.”

I’m lying on a bed. There’s two women in the room. I don’t see my mommy. “Where’s my mommy?”

“Hi, you’re in a hospital. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?” one woman asks. She’s wearing all white and seems nice.

“I was laying down in a machine to scan my brain,” I say.

“Good, good. Can you tell me how old you are?” She has a pretty smile.

“I’m seven. My birthday party was last week. We went skating.” It was a lot of fun.

“Good, first layer seems to have integrated. We should get her memories up to adult range as soon as possible.” The other woman is also dressed in white and she has a computer tablet. She doesn’t smile.

“Can you sit up?”

She helps me to sit up. Something feels weird. I look down and I have boobies. “I have boobies,” I say.

“Yes, you do. Can you look at the light?” She shines a light in my eyes and snaps her fingers near my head.

“Reaction time seems fine,” the other woman says.

“Ok, lay back down and put your head here.” She points to a hole in big metal donut at the head of the bed.

I don’t want to lay down. I’m scared. I want my mommy. “I want my mommy.”

“I know but first you have to lay down and then you can see your mommy, ok.”

“Promise?” I ask.

“Promise,” she says and crosses her heart. I lay down and put my head in the donut, “Ok, spin it up.”

“Preparing upload,” the woman with the tablet says.

Read the rest here

The End of All Peoples

The Evil has come to the land
Demons and the dead roam unchecked

The Evil has come to the sea
Leviathans and dragons boil the water

The Evil has come to the sky
Wyverns and insects blot out the sun

The Age of Man is over
The Elven kingdoms have fallen
The Dwarves have sealed their mines

The Evil has come for us all

Author note: This is part of a small collection of stories set in a fantasy world that has fallen to a great evil.

A Meeting in a Woods

A wood elf stepped into view several paces off the path. Tall, a few heads taller than me, slender like a young tree, spindly arms and legs. Brown gray skin that blended with the bark of nearby trees.

“Hello,” I called out, “I am looking for someone to talk to.” It stared back with black unblinking eyes. I cupped my right hand over my ear, lowered it to waist high and turned it palm up flattening it as I did so. Its head twitched and it blinked once. I hoped my sign had read as I meant it to even if my form was a little messy.

Two more elves stepped out onto the path. “Hello,” I said again, “I am Elva Landwalker daughter of Rolinda Shaleclimber daughter of Feyla Jadeaxe. I wish only to talk.” I repeated the peace sign my aunt had taught me.

Read it here

This is part of a small collection of stories set in a fantasy world that has fallen to a great evil.

Dragon’s Hoard: Olga’s Jade Eye

I never gave much thought to how old Olga lost her eye. She had a hand full of stories she would tell ranging from a bar fight to a bear fight. It would have been easy to cover it with a simple eye patch or even with her own hair. Instead she had a round unpolished jade eye held in a golden socket by golden threads. Sometimes she called it her retirement fund even though the tavern was supposedly her retirement.

Read it Here.

Dragon’s Hoard is the overarching name for this story series about older, retired, and/or disabled adventurers in a fantasy setting who are brought together for a special job. This is the first of a few character pieces before they are brought together for the main story.