Sometimes things go swimmingly, and that’s nice. You may coast along without a care in the world because there is no cause for concern because everything is working as it should. This, however and unfortunately, does not last. Hiccups, minor issues, major problems, and unimaginative people often get in the way, and you have little to no choice but to deal with them. You can read about my own snafus in Under Construction.
In cinema, we have a very special list prepared for you. Are you afraid of the dark? We ask this question ad nauseam in our presentation of three films whose entire personality centers on darkness. You may want to watch these with the lights on. Or don’t. Your choice. We won’t stop you either way.
We extend our foray in the intangible with Phantoms, a story of misty monsters bent on revenge for … well, you can read it for yourself and see. Last week’s classic horror story was literally about a mist monster, in The Mist Monster, thus we sought to extend the theme to this week.
For our Carnival of Calamity Backstage features, we bring you another installment of A Vampire’s Vengeance, House, and of course, Bus Driver!
Let’s get into it →
This week saw some love given to improving the outlines for Bus Driver and House, and continued reworking of the upcoming chapters for A Vampire’s Vengeance. Work continues on the plugins that will help improve the writing, development, and backup processes of these stories, though there has been a setback in the development process.
Turns out, the maintainers of a repository for which I submitted the first of my plugins lack imagination, nor do they think the average user of their software is capable of making their own decisions with regard to what plugins they use. So I must reconsider how to approach the integration of that particular plugin. But this not exciting, this is the drab day-to-day nonsense I must deal with.
You know what is exciting? Read on, as we have a number of features ready and waiting for your attention.
How much time are the vampires going to spend in the manor getting ready? JFC, we’re still waiting to learn what happened to the coven! Maybe we’re getting closer:
Through the dream and back out of it. Let’s drop in and see how Mr. Garcia is faring in the latest installment of House:
Last week it was mist. This week it’s Phantoms. What’s next week, Fog?
Are you afraid of the dark?
Perhaps you should be.
Darkness is often used as quite the interesting element in many films, but few make it their entire personalities. Drop into darkness this weekend with three films that will have you wondering whether the darkness is itself to be feared, or perhaps something beyond it:
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An old woman risks everything to discover what became of her husband. A tale from the Odds ‘n’ Endings Boutique.
When last we rode with the bus driver, they had narrowly escaped the grasp of a massive evolved infected. Of course, it’s never enough to just narrowly escape a terrifying and traumatizing incident. Nope! Just when they thought they were out of trouble, they blow a tire. You can catch up with Part XIII here. What will become of them? Will the bus driver get the tire changed in time? Or will they be eaten by the remaining infected? Let’s find out.
The gunners up top of the bus dispensed with the rail guns and were picking off the infected one by one. As there weren’t many of them, this seemed suitable. For the moment.
The bus driver set the radio’s mic down and sat still, working to slow his breathing. His palms were sweaty; he could feel sweat sliding down his forehead. The chase made by the giant evolved infected left him shaking, but not nearly so much as the prospect of having to climb down out of the bus while they were surrounded by infected. He needed to get up—the blown tire wasn’t going to take care of itself, after all; but he was frozen by fear. There was rumbling in the distance. The bus driver feared more monsters were bearing down upon them, but did not look up, nor look around. Such was the state of his terror.
A tap on the door startled the bus driver. He snapped his attention to the door’s camera, expecting to see a crowd of infected ready to pour onto the bus should the door not hold. What he found instead startled him further: a single man, pale in complexion, wearing in military fatigues and smoking a cigarette, steadily tapped on the polycarbonate with the knuckle of his middle finger. Looking up and around, he was surprised to see the bus surrounded by all manner of vehicles and personnel. It was only then he noticed the pop shots from above had stopped.
The bus driver took a deep breath, released the lock on his cage, swung the metal door open, then released the locks on the door to the exterior.
“You alright there bud? You look whiter than I do.”
An abrupt laugh erupted from another soldier walking up, though this was quickly silenced. A familiar voice was raised to the one who was knocking.
“Leave ‘im be, Chase. Who hasn’t shit their pants seeing one of those things?”
It was the voice over the radio, in person. Chase, still chuckling at his own quip, stepped aside as she filled the doorway. The bus driver took one good look at her and decided he’d prefer to face off with any of the infected than get on her bad side any day. Though short in stature and lean, she appeared to be carved out of stone. Her tank top accentuated her broad shoulders and bristling muscles, giving the impression there was no article of clothing she might don capable of taming those muscles. Her thick legs were barely contained by the cargo pants she wore. Over her shoulder was slung an automatic rifle. She carried herself with a casual air of danger.
“C’mon down,” she said. “Let’s get this tire taken care of and get you outta here.”
Having been yanked out of his terror, the bus driver acquiesced. He started to get up when pounding from the cabin carried his attention. Turning to look, he saw a few passengers pressed up against the reinforced glass.
“We want to stretch our legs,” said one of the passengers.
The bus driver looked at the terrifying woman at the foot of the stair who was busy having a fresh cigarette lit by her comrade. Once lit, she turned to look back up at the bus driver.
“Fine with us so long as everyone stays close,” she said. “‘Cept everyone’s back on as soon as the tire’s ready.”
Looking back into the cabin, the bus driver was met with fervent nods. He stepped back into the driver’s cage, grabbed his keys, and unlocked the cabin door. Those passengers intent on stretching their legs filed out with some excitement, the bus driver close behind. The warm desert air wrapped around the bus driver as he stepped out of the bus.
“Name’s Anne,” said the woman, addressing the bus driver and shaking his hand once his feet were on the asphalt. “You met Chase. That’s Bren—“ she pointed to a man leaning against the nearest vehicle. “And that’s Victoria.” Standing behind a mounted 50mm machine gun was a chirpy redhead, waving in greeting. “No time to meet the others now. Maybe on your way back.”
“The others” appeared none too interested in introductions, focused instead on their immediate surroundings. Watching. Waiting. Ready.
The bus driver took Anne’s hand and met her eyes as he returned the greeting. “I am awful grateful for your help, Anne,” he said.
“Just doing our part,” she said. “Let’s—“
A scream pierced the night, sending a chill up the bus driver’s spine despite the warmth of the evening.
“Time’s up,” she said. “We gotta get you outta here now.”
How haunting! What is that scream? Where is it coming from? What does it mean? Anne obviously knows. Perhaps we shall come to know as well, if the bus driver and his passengers don’t get out of there in time. Only one way to find out if they manage to make their escape: come back next week!
What a ride! Mostly figurative, of course. I’d say “literally and figuratively, except we didn’t go anywhere with the bus driver due to that damned blown tire. Maybe next week we’ll have ourselves a literal ride, though still figurative in its own way.
In the meantime, we hope you thoroughly enjoyed this edition! We would, of course, absolutely LOVE to hear from you. Send us your thoughts; give us your regards; or send us something random; we all are perfectly acceptable reasons to reach out to us. You may reply to this email or use any of the buttons below. We look forward to your messages!
Cordially,
Mad Alex
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