The Civil Dead (Charleston's Fall)

The Civil Dead (Charleston's Fall)

A Story by Colton Warr
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The Fourth installment in "The Civil Dead" series! The story rolls on as Joe and Addison take center stage in a cities fall to The Cursed. Reader discretion is advised...

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The Civil Dead


A Short Fiction Series by Colton Warr


“Charleston’s Fall” 



Just Outside of Charleston, South Carolina. May, 1862. 


Joe Ferris and Addison Belle rode atop Spade, Joe’s horse, as they closed in on two figures. One was holding something that appeared to be wrapped in cloth and other various material. The chase was short-lived as Spade caught up to the two figures and rose up and kicked at them. They halted in their tracks. Joe withdrew his pistol and pointed it at what appeared to be two men of African American descent. He cocked back the hammer before he spoke. 

“Gentlemen, good day to you both. If you would be as so kind as to carefully place your bundle of joy, which is really our bundle of joy, down in the dirt and dust by your feet…well, now that would be delightful.” 

The two men were wide-eyed and out of breath. They glanced back at one another in a state of shock, as if they were weighing if they could still escape. Joe Ferris raised his tone. 

“Boys. I don’t mean next week. Put the baby down. Now!” 

The man holding the bundle began to place it in the dirt. The other man grabbed him and tried to convince him not to in some other language. The man with the bundle sat it down anyways. He then unwrapped it. What this revealed was the baby. Addison gasped in relief from her position behind Joe. Both of them still atop of Spade. 

“Now, both of you take five steps backward. No more and no less.” 

The two men began to step backward. As they reached the fifth step, one attempted to take a sixth. 

“Do no violate my orders, sir. That sure does vex me an awful lot.”

The two men froze at the fifth step. Joe Ferris leaned back towards Addison. 

“Darlin’, hop down and retrieve our baby, would you?” He cracked a smile.

Addison was, at first, hesitant to get so close to two men that attempted to steal the baby. After a look from Joe Ferris, she complied. Addy hopped down and began to walk towards the baby. She had wondered why it wasn't crying. As she got closer, she understood why.

“Oh my God! You heathens!” 

Addison knelt down to the baby and removed a large portion of the cloth from the baby’s mouth. The baby let out a relieving cry as it reminded everyone it was still alive. 

“You two could have killed a small child. An infant. Fools!” 

Joe Ferris then rode up in front of where Addison was standing and placed himself right in front of the two men. Anger bubbled inside of his veins. 

“Would you two rather a cold, clean death? Or something that will burn a bit slower?”

The two men stuck their chests out. 

“You ain’t no different than any other white man. Any chance you get, you’ll take.” 

The words caused Joe to explode.  

“Yeah? And you are no different than any other low life scum of the earth who doesn't think when they act. You take a baby and then steal it? Well, maybe you just thought it was abandoned. Fair enough, but what about when you saw Miss Belle and I? Why did you run? Didn't you think that the baby belonged to us? There isn't anyone else out her but us, boys. The trees in these woods won’t do anything but block your corpses from the rest of civilization. Something you two, clearly, wish to disrupt.” 

Addison stepped in with the still crying baby. 

“Enough! All of you! I have had a real s****y last few weeks. All I think a lady would like is some peace and quiet and chance to think, for God’s sake. Joe, lower that pistol of yours. The body count is already too high.” 

As the last few words left her lips she began to walk away. Tears had begun to develop in the young lady’s eyes. Joe Ferris lowered his weapon for a few seconds. 

“Yes, listen to your wife like a good white man.” 

Joe Ferris smirked as he raised the pistol back to the man’s head. 

“My friend, she isn't my wife. I don’t have to do as I’m told.” 

“What? You say you two are not married? What are a man, a woman and a baby who are not family doing in the woods?”

“Well, now sir, that is just none of your concern.”

The man swallowed as he saw the fire within Joe Ferris’s eyes. Mr. Ferris saw something else in theirs, however. He saw pain and suffering. He saw loss and longing. Joe examined the two men’s bodies as he kept his aim at one of their heads. He noticed scars and tears about their black skin. From their arms to their faces. One of the two men was without a shirt. It was clear that he had received the whip more times than one. Joe Ferris then reconnected with his targets eyes. 

“You fella’s runaways?” 

The two men glanced at each other and then back at Joe. The one without a shirt began to violently shake his head no. The other, with Joe’s pistol still in his face, felt empowered. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Joe Ferris lowered his weapon all the way to the ground. He stared at both of the men's eyes. 

“As am I.” 


Haiti. May, 1862. 


“Is your soul ready, my abyss?” 

The old Priest of Hearts followed his question with a light kiss on the cheek of his Priestess. She glanced up at him and nodded. The two of them were in a dark room. There was a faint sound of water dripping in the corner. The room was silent aside from that. The Priestess of Bones was laid down upon a cold, metal and rusted bed, with no cushion between her bare back and the rough surface. Her breasts were exposed to the moonlight which shined down through a gaping hole in the stone ceiling, some 30 feet above them. The room was still set up in the fashion in which they had found it…a temple of sorts. There were dolls and needles scattered bout. There were jars of fingers, a liver and everything else as well. The Priest of Hearts opened a small canister of some liquid. He drizzled it on the Priestess’s chest. He then took a match and lit it. 

“Remember, in order to control a heart, one must be without a heart. So that we may not be controlled.” 

And with that the Priest dropped the match on her chest, setting only where the liquid was ablaze. The Priestess braced for pain but did not receive it. 

“You cannot feel it’s burn, can you?” 

She shook her head no. The Priest then withdrew a long and skinny blade from an iron chest. He cleaned it as the flame continued to burn. He then prepared to slowly plunge it into her chest. She stopped him. 

“You will protect it?” 

He stopped and ran a hand through her hair. 

“I have for forever haven't I?” 

And with that, he cut her open and the Priestess’s vision went black. 


Days later, the Priest sat his usual study. He carefully placed a needle into an old heart. After fully submerged, he then reached for another. Before he stabbed the heart again, he felt something. The Priest then glanced up and saw his Priestess as she stood in the doorway of his study. He carefully placed the heart down. 

“Is that mine you’re playing with?” 

The Priest smiled. 

“Yours is locked away. This is an old one. One I’ve had for some time.” 

The Priestess looked around the room. 

“Where is mine?” 

The Priest stood up.

“You know that it says that I cannot tell you. It is against the written word.” 

The Priestess of Bones entered the study. 

“Where?” She said as she stared at a map of the United States. 

“I had a heart tell me the herd is near Charleston. If we cast there, first, that could make for a fine beginning to our story.” 

The Priestess stared at the map and then closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath as she brought one hand up to her chest. 

“Let us cast our will. Let us call upon those who are lost between worlds. Let us call upon those in hiding. So that they, too may feel the touch of the one.” 

The Priest looked her in the eyes. 

“Charleston is next. I am setting this place free first.”     


Charleston’s Fall. May, 1862.  


“There she is lady and gents. The gem of the South. Charleston.” 

Joe Ferris then turned to their groups newest two members. 

“You boys remember the strategy, now, don’t you?” 

The two runaway slaves nodded their heads. The shirtless man spoke out. 

“We are your fake slaves. That way we do not become real slaves again.” 

The two runaways were tied to Mr. Ferris’s horse. Their hands were bound with rope and they were being towed behind Spade. They all gazed upon the outskirts of the city as the sun had just begun to set. They held a nervous notion inside of them. All for different reasons. Joe Ferris leaned back and whispered to Addison, who was straddling Spade directly behind him. 

“And you recollect our plan, don’t you?” Joe Ferris supplied a grin with the question. 

Addy rolled her eyes and then answered.

“We are just one big happy plantation family.” 

Joe Ferris then turned towards the city and spurred Spade into motion. 

“That’s my woman.” 

Upon their arrival into the bustling town, Joe immediately eyed the dockyards. He was reminded of his fist plan. The one he had prior to the dead. He was reminded of why he was running from this war as they slowly rode by a slave auction. He overheard the auctioneer call out various amounts of money as they, one by one, sold out humans as if they were meat. The two runaways watched on with both pride and conviction as they were being towed behind a horse. They were hoping the deal they had struck with Mr. Ferris would be honored. After several more minutes, the group arrived in what was the heart of downtown Charleston. Joe Ferris guided Spade to a market on the side of the bus street. He leaned back to Addison. 

“I’ll gather some supplies. You take the kid and the runaways to the white stable we passed two streets back. I’ll meet you there.” 

Addy Interjected. 

“You think it wise to secede our little group?” 

“Perhaps not. But this is a dangerous town.”

“A dangerous town for who? You?” 

Joe Ferris took a deep breath. 

“Look, now, this is no time to argue and cause a scene. I will gather some more food and bring it back to the stable for you all. Then-“ 

“Then you will be on your way? is that it, then, Mr. Joe Ferris?” 

Addison grew irritated. 

“I remember what you said to me at my farm. You will only get me to Charleston. After that, I am on my own. Is this where we take our leave, then? A real man would just say it.” 

Addison spoke as she added a little shove to Joe as he got off of his horse. 

After Joe regained his balance, he grabbed ahold of Addy. 

“You are pretty but you can be a bit crazy, you know that? How do you reckon I leave without my horse? I raised this horse and I would take it with me on a ship if that’s what I chose to do. Which I haven’t.” 

Joe Ferris took a deep breath as Addy retreated. 

“This is a matter of safety, Addy. Get you and our little family back to the stable two streets back and have them feed Spade. Don’t let them give you any s**t. They’ll know the horse but they won’t know the rider. Tell them if my horse isn't fed by the time I get there I will remind them of what happened a few years back. You’ll notice that is a brand new barn.” 

Joe Ferris grinned and then gave Spade a solid pat on the neck. Joe then walked back to the runaways. 

“You boys keep playing your role. Keep your heads about you. You’ll be out of this soon enough. You have my word.” 

The two men nodded and Joe Ferris walked away. Addison spurred Spade and directed him back toward the barn As she turned she couldn't help but smile. 

“What is it you smile about, my lady?” 

Addison slightly blushed at the question before she answered. 

“Oh, it's nothing. Nothing at all.” 

And with that, they continued on down the road. Joe watched with a small grin as they rode on down the cluttered road. He then turned to the market and stepped inside. Upon his entrance, he immediately noticed how empty the store was. 

“Ahh, Mr. Michaels. I see prospects are at an all-time high.” 

The comment garnered the attention of a middle-aged man behind an old wooden counter. He looked up and removed his glasses before he spoke. 

“Well, s**t fire. I’ll be damned and whatever the hell else you need to say. I thought Joe Ferris would be dead by now.” 

The man followed his comments with a laugh. Joe walked towards him as he cracked a smile. 

“And what the hell did you think killed me? Some damned city boy who can’t shoot a chicken in a coup?” 

The two men both laughed as Joe arrived at the wooden counter. 

“Tell me, in a time of war, why isn't this place busier. You have everything underneath the Southern sun in here.” 

Mr. Michaels grinned before he spoke. 

“You know better than the best of them, Joe. The supplies boys want down here ain’t in the front of my store…its in the back.” 

Joe grinned back at the man. 

“Well then, let's see just how boomin’ business truly is.” 

Mr. Michaels led Joe back through an old wooden door. Upon the walk through it, a backroom filled with various types of weaponry was revealed. Anything from double-barrel shotguns to state of the art repeating rifles. Colt pistols and even a cannon. 

“Some of our items back here ain’t even on the market yet.” 

“And you came across them how, exactly?”  

The storekeeper laughed. 

“I told a Union man I was handin’ them out to Northern sympathizers. Goes without sayin’ that that wasn't true.” 

Joe Ferris was in awe of the weaponry, at first. Until being surrounded by such items took him back to his short service in the war. This refocused him. 

“Listen. I am constrained by time. Give me 100 rounds of Colt and 2 Colt pistols and that will be all.” 

The man stopped and turned towards Joe. 

“Someones got somewhere to be, huh? I’ll tell you this. You’ve done favors for me in the past, Let me pay you back.” 

Joe Ferris shook off the comment. 

“Nonsense, Mr. Michaels. I will firmly deny any discounts from you.” 

Mr. Michaels pulled him close and shook his hand. Joe Ferris noticed that in this handshake was a piece of parchment with some words written on it. He glanced down at it. it read: “Two men came in right before you. They are leaned up by the door. They want their money back or your head.” 

“Your discount is gladly accepted. Much obliged, Mr. Michaels.” 

“I’ll have your products at the counter for you.” 

And with that, Joe Ferris turned towards the tow men and began to walk towards them. He noticed that both had pistols on them, exposed. They were both also armed knives, which were unsheathed and rested in the palm of their hands. Joe Ferris grinned. 

“So, what was it, then boys? Did you threaten to burn down his shop?” 

The two men glanced at each other and then back at Joe. 

“See, I’ve already done that. Twice. Mr. Michaels and I go way back. You honestly didn't think two youngins’ like yourselves were going to put a divide between us, did you?” 

The two men grew tired of Mr. Ferris.

“We ain’t here for no s**t. Hands up. Come quietly.”

Joe Ferris grinned even wider. 

“Oh, I never come quietly.” 

And with that, Joe Ferris quickly drew his pistol and squeezed off two rounds, one for each of the men. The bullets struck both men right between the eyes. A splatter of blood erupted from their skulls and attached its red juice to the wall in which they were leaned upon. The two bodies then slid down to the ground as a trail of blood from their heads followed. 

“You always were a little s**t.” Mr. Michaels said as he quickly walked over to the scene. 

Mr. Ferris then holstered his pistol and examined what he had done. 

“Well, at least I didn't burn it down this time. Just a little blood.” 

“Yeah, that much I am thankful for. Get yourself down to the tavern two doors down. You can’t be here when the law comes through. Use the backdoor. Daisy will let you through.” 

Joe Ferris extended his hand. 

“Come join me for a drink after?” 

Mr. Michaels laughed and gave Joe a fist to the arm. 

“Only if you haven't shot up the place by then.” 

And with that, Joe Ferris exited the store with his supplies and knocked on the back door of the old tavern in town. After several seconds, a slightly older woman answered the door. She took one look at Joe and smiled. 

“I should have known. Gunshot ring out and Joe Ferris is in town.” 

“The two often correlate, wouldn't you say?” 

The two exchanged a hug and the bartender known as Daisy let him in.

 

The White Stable


Addison, the baby, and the two runaway slaves had just arrived at the white stable. Which happened to be more like the size of a small barn. nonetheless, it offered as a place to house Spade and get him fed while keeping the baby out of the setting sun. The heat of the start of summer had begun to scorch the southern part of the nation. As Spade ate his food, Addy and sat up against the stable gate across from him and rocked the baby as it slept. She quietly sang the same hymnal to it. The two runaways watched as they sat across from her. They were tied to a post to keep the image that they were slaves intact. 

“It appears our captor knows the city and its people well. Are we lucky?” 

Addison glanced up at them. She was perplexed by his word choice. 

“Captor?”

“Why else would a lady and a baby that are not connected be with such a man? Unless, the lady is starting to fall for his ways?”

Addison laughed. 

“His ways are crazy. No woman in her right mind would fall for that man.” 

Addison continued to rock the baby as it slept. The two runaways smiled as one the other spoke. 

“Maybe she is not in her right mind? And maybe she likes that.” 

Addison quickly quelled the conversation. 

“Quiet. If you are too loud you will wake the baby.” 

She then started to sing again as the two runaways glanced at each other. Just at that moment, a heavy wind swept through the stable. It tossed Addison’s hair about and across her face as it slammed into the gates of all of the individual stables. The horses began to grow restless in the midst of it. They would bump and slam their bodies against the wood that surrounded them. And no sooner that the gust happened did it cease. Addy looked to her left as she noticed the gust had taken a stable boy to his knees. She rose up. 

“Are you alright, sir?” 

The stable boy stayed on his knees and elbows as if he was about to get sick. He began to make various noises as Addison grew closer. 

“Where is the water? I can fetch you some.” 

The boy did not answer. His hands clutched the dirt and hay on the ground. Addison then knelt down beside him. She reached out with her hand and placed it upon his shoulder. 


The Tavern

The same gust whirled its way through the doors and open windows of the tavern Joe Ferris was currently leaned up at the bar at. The wind sent Daisy into the back of the bar where most of the whiskey was stored. One of the bottles she collided with was sent tumbling toward the floor. Upon impact, it shattered. This sent shards of glass and whiskey all over the floor behind the bar. 

“Daisy, you alright back there? You aren't drinkin’ on the tavern dime again, are you?”

Joe Ferris sprung into action as he grabbed a towel that was on the bar counter and walked around to behind the counter. 

“I’m not sure I feel so well, Joe.” 

Joe began to clean up the mess, glass first as he placed them in a broken glass bucket. 

“Well, that would explain this. Get yourself some water and sit down for a minute in the back. I bartended a few years before the war. I can handle these folk.” 

Joe followed that with a grin but could tell something was seriously wrong with Daisy. She raced through the wooden door that led to the back where the storage was kept. Joe then proceeded to clean the rest of the shattered whiskey. As he did, he picked up many pieces of glass. Just as the mess was almost cleaned, however, he picked up something different. He noticed it didn't appear to be hard like glass. It had a squish to it. As it brought it up to his eyes he noticed it was a reddish, orange color. He began to turn it as he examined. It hit him. It was flesh and blood. A small sliver. He immediately thought that Daisy cut herself on the bottle somehow. He rose up and noticed a small blood trail and another piece of flesh. He followed it back through the wooden door. The storage area was dark and muggy. It would be well lit during the day but as the sun continued to set this room grew darker. He slowly walked through the door as he left it open. 

“Daisy? You okay?” 

He continued to walk further into the room. There bottles both empty and full back here as well as glasses and plates. 

“You seem to be bleedin’, darlin’. You may want to allow me to take a glance at it.” 

Joe Ferris stopped in his tracks. The trail went cold exactly where he was standing. But there was no Daisy. He scanned the room for any sign of her but there was nothing. The room was dark and Joe felt as if he couldn't see everything. He slowly moved his right hand and rested it on his pistol. Something didn't feel right in the room. Just as he took another step forward Daisy revealed herself behind him. He didn't turn because he didn't hear anything. He took another step forward and so did she. She tilted her head to the side as parts of her face and neck slid off of her. She then opened her mouth and a gallon of blood exited it. The sound of it hitting the floor startled Joe and he quickly turned around and faced her. But it wasn't her. As he turned she charged. The two collided before Joe’s quick draw could fire and his pistol was sent through the air and landed on the floor in the dark room. Joe managed to grab Daisy and throw her off of him right as they struck the ground. He glanced up at her and notice her eyes were as black as the night. She growled and hissed as she charged him again. The sheer force of her took Joe by surprise. She quickly found herself on top of him. Joe was inches away from her chomping teeth. He could see her exposed jawbones as they moved. She all of the sudden reeked of a terrible stench. A small collection of blood streamed down out of her mouth as she chomped and landed directly on Joe’s neck. There was only one thing Joe could think of to do. He let out a yell and thrusted his head into hers. He could hear the crunch of a bone or two as he struck her again with his head. He did it a third time and then was able to throw her off of him. She scurried her way back to her nimble feet as Joe scanned the room. He grabbed a full bottle of whiskey and slammed it into the wall. This created a sharp, sword-like weapon for him. He turned to the now Cursed Daisy who just stared at him. 

“I believe it is your move.” 

Daisy titled her head again. Then she nodded. Joe Ferris was shocked for a few seconds. 

“You can still understand me?” 

She then charged at him again, head first. Joe took aim and then struck just as she reached him. he slammed the broken bottle into her skull as he moved out of her way. She collided with the wall and then turned and took a swing at Joe. This sent him in a tumble towards the ground. He glanced back up at her and noticed that she had grabbed the bottle that was stuck in her skull. She looked right at him and began to pull it out. A nasty noise was heard as the glass slowly was retracted from her brain. 

“D****t. I know, I know. The heart!” Joe called out to himself as he tried to get up. 

He then noticed his pistol on the floor. He grinned and he grabbed it. he then turned to Daisy and the bottle came crashing into his shoulder. It managed to cut him open despite not being stuck into his body. He looked up at her as she charged him again. 

“You can throw, I can shoot.” 

He took aim and fired. The pistol sent a bullet right into the chest of what once was Daisy. She continued to charge. Joe Ferris fired a second round into her chest, hoping to strike her heart. This one sent her to the ground but not to her final resting place. Joe rose up from the ground and stood over her. She then reached out and grabbed his foot and began to dig her nails through his pants and into his skin. He pulled back the hammer one last time and sent a third bullet not her chest. That did it. The bullet went straight into her heart. Daisy ceased right in front of him. he remembered what happened in the woods. He knelt down and checked her eyes. They had returned to their natural brown. Before he could gather himself, he heard noises back out towards the bar. He slowly walked back up to the wooden door that he had left open. He was greeted with a scene of gore and guns. It seemed as though half of the bar was Cursed and the other half alive and shooting. Gunshots rang out as men tried to defend themselves, helplessly, against those who were already dead. Joe watched on in a state of shock as the carnage ensued. He saw a man get ripped up open at his stomach. This released a series of small tubes which Joe was led to believe were his intestines. Joe dropped his pistol to the floor. This snapped him and some of the Cursed out of it. He quickly bent over to grab it after he noticed that he now had the attention of three of them. He then closed the door that led to the bar and gathered his thoughts in the storage area. The three figures slammed into the door. Joe then opened the same door he had entered through and exited the tavern via the back alley. 


The White Stable

Addison tapped the small stable boy on his shoulder as she noticed his skin grow gray. 

“Are you sick? Tell me where the water is?” 

The boy let out a hiss as he began to raise his head. Addison grabbed his shoulder, only to pull off part of his skin. She quickly dropped the piece of flesh and looked back at the boy. As his head rose she could tell what was happening. His eyes were as black as the night. He slowly opened his mouth to dark blood. His should blade popped out of where Addison had removed the skin. 

“No.” She faintly whispered. 

Addison quickly turned her back to the boy and started to get up and run away. The Cursed boy reached out with his dirty nails and grabbed a hold of Addy’s dress. He then dug deeper and clutched her skin. Addy dug deep and pulled away. This caused the boy’s nails to slice through her back before finally losing grip on her. Addison released a scream that woke the baby. It began to cry out as the chaos continued. She took off and ran, only thinking about the babies safety. She then stopped in her tracks as her way out was blocked. Two more figures appeared at the main entrance of the barn. 

“S**t.” 

She then turned and saw a horrifying sight. She had forgotten that the two runaways were till tied up to the stable. The stable boy was attacking them. She was helpless. She had no idea what to do with the baby. Surrounded, Addy made a decision. She sat the baby down against one of the stables. She then grabbed a long, metal rod that the white stable used to brand their horses with. Addison charged the stable boy. She swung as hard as she could at him. Her swing connected with his head. This cracked his exposed skull and dislocated his neck. his head was now only hanging from his neck and not fully upright on it. She then took another sing, this time at its chest. She connected and crushed the boy's chest cavity. The boy fell to the ground as Addison delivered one more blow to the boy's chest. This time, she broke a bone. The boy then ceased to exist as his eyes returned to their natural color. His heart must have been stabbed by the bone. She turned to be greeted by the two other figures right up on them. She took a swing at one but it ducked. Instead, the swing knocked the second one to the ground. The one that ducked then talked Addison to the dirt. She let out a scream. The Cursed then hovered over her as it prepared to take a bite out of her face. Just as it tried, she blocked it by placing the metal rod in between the figure and her face. It began to bite the rod to try and get through it. The Cursed had no luck there, but it then raised a hand and dug into Addy’s shoulder. This lessened the amount of strength she could use to hold the metal bar in-between her and her attacker. The figures mouth grew closer as it chomped and bit with more hunger. Addy had to turn her face to the side and keep the tip of her nose from being bitten. As she did, she saw the two runaways struggling to fend off one the Cursed. They only had access to their legs. The two of them were kicking and screaming as they tried to somehow end the life of whatever was coming at them. Just as one of them had it in a headlock, not knowing what it was, the figure then sunk its teeth into the runaway’s thigh. The bite was so deep that his artery was punctured. This sent blood all over the man's legs. It began to pool as he tried to keep the Cursed there a little longer so it couldn't get to his friend. Addison began to cry at the image. Just as she was about to give up, she was all of the sudden relieved. She glanced up to see that someone had pulled the figure off of her by its hair. She looked closer and saw that was Joe Ferris. Joe then shoved a calvary cutlass into the figures chest where its heart would be. The Cursed figure was no more. Addison and Joe made eye contact but just for a moment. Joe then quickly ran over to the runaway’s and punctured the heart of that figure as well. For the moment, they appeared to be out of danger. 

“And you got on me about putting the baby down?” Joe toyed with Addy. 

Addison smiled and then erased as she tried to mask the joy she felt in seeing him. 

“We’ve got to get movin’. The entire city is in disarray. These s***s are all over the place.” 

Addison grabbed the baby and ran over to him. 

“Was it the herd from my farm?” 

“I would have any idea. Nor do I care to have one. We have to get out of the city. Now!” 

The two runaways interjected. 

“Wait! You must untie us. He needs medicine.”

Joe examined the scene. 

“That man will die before the night is over, friend. I do apologize.” 

Joe then reached down and untied the runaway who wasn't close to death. The runaway then grabbed Joe Ferris and slammed him into the wooden stable door. 

“You must save him. You must try!” 

Addison then set the baby down and walked over and grabbed Joe’s pistol from his holster. She then drew back the hammer and pointed it at the runaway. 

“This is not the time to turn on each other. Let him be or we will all die.” 

Just as the words left her mouth Joe interjected.

“Addy, the baby!” 

They all turned and saw the runaway who was bitten now trying to bite the baby. it was still tied up, however, and could not reach it. it tried, though. It chomped and bit at the baby as Addison ran over and pick dirt up. 

“Unfortunately, we’ve seen this before. That is no longer your friend. It’s one of them.” 

Joe then reached out and began to open the door that would lead him to Spade. 

“Wait. Let me give him peace. Like these people here.” 

Joe took a second and finally found that his request was likely just. He handed him the sword. The runaway took a second and mumbled a prayer, then stuck the figures heart. This sent him limply to the dirt. 

“Check his eyes.” Joe said. 

The runaway then knelt down and was at ease after the sight of his friend's true eye color. Joe Ferris then opened the gate of Spade’s stable and noticed he was turned around with his hind legs facing where Joe was at the door. 

“I know it’s somethin’ crazy out here buddy but we have to ride out into it once again.” 

Just as the words left his mouth, Spade turned to him and slammed Joe up against the wall. This captured the attention of both Addison and the runaway. The horse then tossed Joe into the corner of the stable into a pile of hay. Joe quickly regained his awareness as the horse came right at him. Spade then went to bite Joe. Joe reached out and intercepted his mouth but could barely hold it. The horse was much stronger than he. The runaway went to help from behind and Spade quicker up his hind legs and struck the runaway in the head. He fell to the ground in a puddle of blood. Joe tried to hold Spade back with all of his might. As he did, glanced up and took in what was happening. He noticed that pieces of flesh from his horses back and neck were missing. Spades eyes were as black as he was. The hay was a dark red as if the horse had been bleeding for some time. It began to hiss at Joe as it tried to bury its teeth into him. Joe lost it. He shook his head no as he entered denial. He couldn't believe that his lifelong horse had been changed. A single tear fell from his eye as he mustered up all of his strength and rose up with the horses head in his hands. He then pushed Spades head, sending him back two steps. It was then that Joe noticed what he had to do. He could see that his horse's heart was exposed. No flesh or bone to conceal it. He withdrew his big buck knife. Spade then rose up as if to kick Joe to the ground. Mr. Ferris then charged his horse and thrust his knife into its heart. They both were sent to the ground with great force. Addison looked on with the baby as the two bodies just laid there in the blood-soaked hay. Finally, after several seconds passed, Joe began to move. He slowly rose up from the corpse of his horse. Before he stood all the way up, he went to pull out his buck knife. He retracted it slowly. Joe Ferris had little left in him after the last hour. 

“Close the barn doors. Do that now!” 

Addison raced over to the main barn doors and shut them. As she did, she glanced out into the town and saw drones and waves of these things. They were in the middle of streets as they feasted on men, women, and children. Some were biting into horses and chickens. She flashed back to her farm when she had peered out of the window upstairs. All of the livestock dead and eventually her family. This reminded her of that. She slammed the door shut and secured it. Joe Ferris grabbed his cutlass blade and thrusted it into the runaway that Spade had kicked. 

“We don’t want anything in here to be what takes us. Take my knife and go around and stab everything in the heart again. You hear me?”

Addison shook her head yes and did as he said.         



Haiti. May, 1862. 


The cells beneath the old slaughter house in the jungle were empty. What was left within were small portions of flesh and various fragments of bone. Dried pools of blood stained the stone floor. The cell doors were all wide open. So was the door that separated them from the stairs that led up to the place of slaughter. The main entrances to the slaughter house had been knocked down. Footprints littered the thick grass and dirt. The occasional blood stuck to the long vegetation which stemmed from the ground. The darkness within the jungle had spread. It had spilled out into old indigenous villages and plantations on every corner of the large island. The few pockets of civilizations that populated the Caribbean island had been emptied. Trash, wood, and steel laid sprinkled about the streets. Pieces of parchment blew with the wind. The only activity on the entire island was in the port city of Saint-Domingue. 

The Priestess of Bones and the Priest of Hearts had just arrived. The Priest of Hearts exited first. He stepped out of a carriage that was being pulled by two horses, both of which had exposed bone and flesh in various places. The Priestess of Bone then stood up in the carriage and walked over to the same side her husband had exited from. She reached out her hand and the Priest took it. He guided her to the ground and they then both turned towards the docks. As they slowly walked through the city by the sea they passed the occasional burning building. Although the flames were minimal in size, as if whatever happened there had been long over. The city was cluttered with various broken down carriages, turned over market stands and an occasional tree down which blocked some of the road. What a city in this state lacked was bodies…ones that were alive. Lined up on each side of the street the Priest and Priestess walked down were that of hundreds of Cursed. Men, women, and children made up their ranks as they stood without life while facing the two leaders and cast out a blank stare with their shadowy eyes. This was their dead state of attention. Some would stand still while others would sway back and forth because of the injuries they sustained when the city fell. Some lacked arms and legs while others lacked parts of their stomach or even their face. That mattered little, as they all stood ready to be commanded. 

“They are breathtaking.” 

The Priestess was mesmerized by what surrounded her. What they had done. 

“I am smitten. They are beautiful.” 

The Priest stopped them in their tracks. 

“A gift to you, my death.” 

The Priestess smiled as she turned towards the ocean. 

“What has the man of my nightmares prepared for me at docks?”

The two then began to walk towards the handful of wooden docks the small port possessed. As they got closer, it was apparent that there were almost ten ships bobbing up and down in the harbor. The excitement grew within the hollow chest of the Priestess. The two continued to walk down the main road of the town. The line of Cursed on each side of the street only came to an end when the town stopped and the ocean started. And even then, some figures were standing, lifelessly, in the shallows. The two reached the start of the port. They both gazed out into the harbor. 

“I present to you, my end, your very own fleet.” 

The Priest waved his hand in presentation as he gave way to his bride. She took several steps forward, to the edge of a pier. She looked out and took in every bit of the dark harbor. There was no moon or star in the sky. Clouds had blocked them on this night. The Priest of Hearts stepped up beside of her. 

“Would you like to see the flagship?” 

She smiled at him and nodded. The two walked over to another pier. The Cursed stood all around them and watched as the two walked up onto the biggest ship of the bunch. When the Priestess stepped on deck she noticed that it was also filled with figures. They, too, were all standing still and watched as she and her husband walked around the top deck. 

“This vessel is a torture….I love it.” 

She shot a smile over to The Priest. 

“Will you lead them?” 

The Priest walked over to her while locked in a gaze with her eyes. 

“Only if you are beside me.” 

He then reached for and slowly ran his bloody, dirt drenched hands across her dry and cold face. When his hand arrived at her black hair and grabbed it and pulled her head backward. At first, she was caught off her guard. She then grew to fancy it. She grinned at him. 

“Never lose grip on what this is for us.” 

The Priest felt youth within him as he graced the Priestess lips with his own. He spoke to her like this. 

“Never let our idea slip through your fingertips. Never forget what this is for…”

Just as if it looked as though they were about to kiss, he pulled her head back again. He then stared at a scar on her chest. 

“…Control.” 

He released her. 

“Have you tried?” 

The Priestess finally spoke after moving catching her breath. 

The Priest shook his head as he took several steps back and bowed his head. The Priestess took a deep breath and stepped up to the railing of the ship. As she gazed out over the harbor and town she noticed The Cursed had moved close to the ship she was on. They all gazed up at her as if awaiting a speech. The Priestess of Bones then closed her eyes and raised both hands to the height of her shoulders as she lifted her head to the sky. She began to whisper something. The Priest of Hearts looked up at her and watched as she changed. Her fingers began to curl and she began to moan as something took her. She shook, but only slightly, as something moved through her. She then stopped. The Priest looked on with intensity. After several quiet seconds, The Priestess' eyes open quickly. A yellow glow came from where they were on her head. She moved her head back down and looked out into the sea of figures. 

“Cursed!” 

Her voice sounded like there wee two or three other people inside of her. As if they spoke when she did. The Priest turned and looked out into the sea of the dead. 

“Board!” 

Just as the multiple order of the voices ended The Cursed turned and began to walk, limp and crawl their way onto the nearest ship. The Priest then turned his gaze to the Priestess. He grinned as his own eyes began to flicker a yellow glow as well.


© 2016 Colton Warr



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I love reading this, patiently await a signed copy of the book !!!!!

Posted 7 Months Ago


F**k what these other critics said, this is the BEST sorry I've read on here and I've been on here for two years!!! Omg, it blew my mind. Thank u for sharing your talent and gift. Your mind is a beautiful Gothic relic. Now all u have to do is put my current city of Beaufort, SC into the mix (Coffin Point to be specific) where historically there was a white sheriff here who learned voodoo from the Geechee people and I will be your fan forever. Just kidding I already am!!!

Posted 1 Year Ago


Colton Warr

12 Months Ago

Haha Thank you so much for your amazing support! I appreciate your kind remarks, here. You're too ni.. read more
I haven't read the other parts, but I really like the concept! Some terms and slang don't ring true to the time period, but there's nothing too bad or anything, I'm keen to read the previous entries into the series now :)

Posted 1 Year Ago


Colton Warr

12 Months Ago

I'm glad you enjoyed this one and the concept! Even if you haven't read the others, that means a lot.. read more
l like this but just do not get the Haiti part and how it has to do with runaway slaves. Valentine

Posted 1 Year Ago


Colton Warr

12 Months Ago

The Haiti part will come full circle soon! But you should start to gather an idea about how it ties .. read more
I am not going to offer a critique as I normally do, I am going to pretend we are face to face and have a talk :~)
When you write a period piece you should do a bit of research first of that time, an example of this is your trying to be politically correct when you say "two men of African American descent" this is not an 1862 time worthy expression and stands out from the story. http://www.angelfire.com/me/reenact/terms.html and http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~poindexterfamily/CivilWar.html are civil war slang sites that can help with your verbiage. Your dialog makes everyone sound like they are well schooled, well mannered and northern yankee's. All that said, I like the story line and the potential subplots, the time in history is wide open to interpretation and speculation due to lost information gaps. This should be a great exercise in both your writing skills and research abilities, it will be interesting to see who this turns out, good luck my friend :~) Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

Posted 1 Year Ago


Colton Warr

12 Months Ago

I appreciate you sending those sites over my way, my friend! I have slowly started to integrate some.. read more

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Added on September 16, 2016
Last Updated on September 16, 2016
Tags: Zombies, Story, Stories, Love, Hate, War, Friendship, Short Story

Author

Colton Warr
Colton Warr

Lexington, KY



About
Just using a pen to scribble my thoughts and emotion, hoping to generate the same from you. All of my words are mine. Everything I write is real and true, things that I am going through in my life. I .. more..

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