Surprise! Flash Fic - your character opens the door and everyone yells "SURPRISE!"
My character, Chase Brooks, is a Force Recon Marine, who fights supernatural enemies that frequently ambush him. Here is how I see a surprise party going:
I put the key into my front door lock and froze. There were sounds coming from within. Gently, I slipped my 1911 handgun out of its holster and thumbed the safety off. Using my left hand, I turned the key in the lock and then twisted the doorknob.
I took a deep breath, let it out, and then shoved hard with my left shoulder. The door blasted inward, and I stepped inside, gun sweeping right and left.
The lights went on, and a dozen voices cried “Surprise!”
My first shot went into the cake on the table in front of me. Frosting and candles exploded all over, splattering the people gathered around the small table.
My second shot went into the ceiling light directly over the table, showering my shocked guests with sparks and then broken glass.
The tiny apartment was plunged back into darkness. The only sound that I could hear was the ringing in my ears from the two loud retorts of my .45.
A lighter flicked on, illuminating an old man with an angry scowl. “Happy birthday, you idiot,” Bill said.
Someone really needs to invent a teleporter, like they have in Star Trek. I need to be able to get where I’m going immediately; I’m an impatient passenger!
Your favorite toys as a child…or now?
My favorite toy as a 5 year old was a plastic dagger with a sheath that looked like a miniature sword. I ran around playing knights and dragons games constantly. So of course, I grew up and became…a sword instructor, and still run around the country with a sword!
Betcha didn’t know that I can catch snapping turtles with a five gallon bucket!
…what, you don’t?
What talent do you wish you had?
I have always wished that I could sing. I mean, I do sing, with tremendous enthusiasm, but regrettably, with zero skill or talent. Of all the performance arts there are, singing is my favorite, and the one that makes me feel the least important, because I can’t do it!
What are the must haves for your apocalypse bunker?
If I had a bunker (and I’m not saying that I don’t), it would be filled with Mountain Dew Zero! There would be an abundance of pistachio nuts, freeze-dried reconstitutable (I made that up) crab legs, and enough ammunition to reclaim the entire world once it was safe to go back out. The bunker would have to be constructed so that we could bring my horse, Falco down into it, too. So I suppose good ventilation would be very important for my bunker.
What's really under the bed/in the closet?
I have a monster that hides under my bed! Her name is Reina, and she snores. She also has random bouts of bad gas, and will on occasion wake me up, gagging and coughing and swearing that it’s time to chase away the monster once and for all!
I have a monster that hides under my bed! Her name is Reina, and she snores. She also has random bouts of bad gas, and will on occasion wake me up, gagging and coughing and swearing that it’s time to chase away the monster once and for all!
If I worked in a morgue…
If I worked in a morgue I would have happy 80s music playing at full blast all the time, and wear one of those miner’s hats with the powerful lights attached to it! I would be weighted down with flashlights and crosses, and a bottle of holy water would be in a hip holster. As much as I love scary movies and scary stories, I’m pretty sure I would hate being in a morgue.
Pros and cons of owning… kaiju
Thinking of getting a unique pet? Consider the kaiju; a larger pet, to be sure, but large pets need love, too. Here’s a quick check list for the kaiju curious:
Pros:
Easy transportation (for you)
Home security
No need to microchip—they NEVER get lost
Best “take your pet to school for show-n-tell day” ever
You will never be the ugliest nor will you have the biggest feet in your family again
Granted, there are a few concerns for prospective owners.
Cons:
Pet food bill will exceed the GNP of most third world countries
Leash laws for in-town kaiju
Finding a vet will be problematic
If I worked in a morgue I would have happy 80s music playing at full blast all the time, and wear one of those miner’s hats with the powerful lights attached to it! I would be weighted down with flashlights and crosses, and a bottle of holy water would be in a hip holster. As much as I love scary movies and scary stories, I’m pretty sure I would hate being in a morgue.
Pros and cons of owning… kaiju
Thinking of getting a unique pet? Consider the kaiju; a larger pet, to be sure, but large pets need love, too. Here’s a quick check list for the kaiju curious:
Pros:
Easy transportation (for you)
Home security
No need to microchip—they NEVER get lost
Best “take your pet to school for show-n-tell day” ever
You will never be the ugliest nor will you have the biggest feet in your family again
Granted, there are a few concerns for prospective owners.
Cons:
Pet food bill will exceed the GNP of most third world countries
Leash laws for in-town kaiju
Finding a vet will be problematic
All in all, the kaiju could be the new “it” pet of the 21st century—don’t be the last one on your block to get one!
Flesh rotting from bone
Feet dragging across the cold floor
Hunger knows no bounds
The Pack
Prey scent on the wind
Running with brothers, sisters
Howling at the moon
Invasion of the Undead (Death Stalker Chronicles Book One)
by Samurai Dan Coglan
by Samurai Dan Coglan
5-28-2021
Genre: Horror
ISBN: 978-1-7353896-7-7
ASIN: B08XNS92W5
Number of pages: 242
Word Count: 60500
Former Marine Lance Corporal Chase Brooks fought the enemy in Afghanistan and lost his unit.
Now back in America, he fights to keep from losing his mind, as he is repeatedly attacked by the undead that he believes wiped out his men overseas.
Convinced that what he saw over there was real, he goes to war to wipe out the undead on American soil.
#samuaraidancoglanbooks #invasionoftheundead #deathstalkerchronicles #lostevineyardpress #horror #zombies #horrorbook #zombiebook
Genre: Horror
ISBN: 978-1-7353896-7-7
ASIN: B08XNS92W5
Number of pages: 242
Word Count: 60500
Former Marine Lance Corporal Chase Brooks fought the enemy in Afghanistan and lost his unit.
Now back in America, he fights to keep from losing his mind, as he is repeatedly attacked by the undead that he believes wiped out his men overseas.
Convinced that what he saw over there was real, he goes to war to wipe out the undead on American soil.
#samuaraidancoglanbooks #invasionoftheundead #deathstalkerchronicles #lostevineyardpress #horror #zombies #horrorbook #zombiebook
Excerpt
“Get those damn charges set, and let’s get out of here,” I growled into my mic. Shadows moved around me, and a turbaned face appeared out of the murky darkness. I shot the onrushing insurgent twice and looked around for more.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I muttered. “We’re past time for evac. Move your slow asses!” Lt. Rodriquez was suddenly at my side, scowling. “We’re doing the best we can, Corporal. Hold on to your hat.”
“Charges set, Lieutenant,” Stevens called out. “That makes all four; we can blow this popsicle stand!”
“About damn time,” I snapped. “There are hostiles everywhere. What the hell is this place, anyway?”
McGavin scoffed. “It’s a temple, Brooks. Remember? We had a briefing and everything.”
“Screw you,” I told him. “This ain’t like no temple that I’ve ever seen. And it smells like a fucking crypt.”
“No lie,” my buddy, Lance Corporal Jeremy Stevens, chimed in.
“Marines,” Rodriquez barked. “Let’s go.”
I led us back out, the six of us in tight formation. Stevens was on my left flank; Sgt. Bates was on my right, and the Lieutenant was in the middle with the beady-eyed “guide” that the Colonel had stuck us with. McGavin brought up the rear.
Dead bodies were everywhere; our ingress had come with a high body count. I ignored them.
Two tours had made me immune to corpses. I had bigger priorities.
There was a commotion in front of us; heard but not seen. Voices cried out in excitement. We froze.
Our position was suddenly hit with massive spotlights. “We’ve been cut off! Break left!” Rodriquez yelled as gunfire erupted all around us. We returned fire, hot and heavy.
Being in front has its disadvantages. I got hit three times, twice in the chest and once in the leg.
My vest took the brunt of the two to the chest, but the leg shot really sucked. I went down but staggered back to my feet and kept fighting.
Stevens took over point; Lt. Rodriquez slid over to his spot and put me in the middle with the guide, who looked scared out of his mind. I didn’t blame him.
We raced through the gloom, moving downhill but not having a choice in the matter. McGavin took a round to the lower back and went down. I shouted, and the unit took up positions around our fallen comrade.
We created a semi-circle facing back the way we’d come, weapons up and ready. There wasn’t long to wait. The horde was on us quickly, the heavy sound of their AK-47s threatening to overwhelm the sharper cracks of our M-4s.
It was over in less than sixty seconds, and to my amazement, we were still standing. There were bodies all around us, and the air was thick with the smell of cordite. Clouds of smoke from the gunfire obscured our lights even further.
It was like being in hell, I thought, sweeping the area with my carbine. Something flashed in my light, and I swung back.
There was a figure standing at the edge of the light. It couldn’t be a friendly, so I shot at it. I missed, and it ducked behind a pile of bodies. The Lieutenant motioned, and Stevens and I went out to get whoever it was.
I’d taken maybe three steps when the figure reappeared, much closer. I could tell it was a man, head and neck wrapped in a shemagh. One arm was holding a bundle, and the other was outstretched toward the ceiling.
His eyes were glowing red. I blinked. His eyes really were glowing; it wasn’t goggles or an optical illusion. Glowing or not, I knew what my job was. I put that head with glowing eyes in my sights and prepared to pull the trigger.
Our guide, who’d been useless and paranoid the entire mission, started screaming and babbling in complete gibberish. The only part that I could make out was something about Manziel or manzazu or some such nonsense, but his outburst caught me off guard, and I missed my shot.
Suddenly there was movement all around us. The bodies of the enemy combatants were stirring. Impossibly, they were staggering to their feet. All around us, corpses were rising from the floor, their eyes shining a baleful crimson.
“What the fuck?” Stevens shouted. “This ain’t happening, man.”
I put a three-round burst into the chest of the corpse nearest me and blew out his heart. It didn’t seem to affect him at all; he just kept shuffling toward me, his arms reaching out. I shot him again, this time doing the Mozambique technique that had been drilled into all Marines. The two shots to the body didn’t do anything, but the follow-up round to the head dropped it.
I could hear my unit screaming, cursing, and shooting the reanimated dead bodies all around me.
They were coming at us from every direction.
We tightened our circle, trying to cover each other as we changed mags and shifted targets. It didn’t matter; they overwhelmed us. There were just too many of them, and we couldn’t put them down fast enough.
I watched in horror as my best friend, Jeremy Stevens, was pulled down by a mob of freaking zombies and torn apart. Behind me, Lt. Rodriquez screamed, and then his voice trailed off into a muffled gurgle, and I knew he was gone, too.
My mag ran dry, and I reached for another, determined to keep fighting. My fingers closed on air. I was out. The undead pressed in, their hands clawing for me. I swung the empty rifle like a club, trying to clear a space.
The undead mob pulled the rifle from my hands, so I drew my Colt 1911 handgun. It was a fine weapon, and I was good with it, but it only held eight rounds. Those eight rounds went quickly.
When the pistol was empty, all sounds of gunfire ceased.
I was the last of the unit standing. The zombies surrounded me. To my right, two of the obscene things were eating my Sergeant. Behind them, more were tearing our guide to pieces.
I spun to my left and saw what was left of Stevens. Hands fastened onto my vest, and I twisted away. More grabbed hold of my legs, and I went down.
The zombies crowded around me. Behind them, looking on, was the man with the glowing eyes, triumph on his face. He cackled with glee.
In desperation, I felt around for anything to use as a weapon. My hands reached above my head and found the remains of the Lieutenant. His head had been ripped off. My hands shifted lower and found the detonator on his belt for the explosive packages that we’d set.
I yanked it free and held it up. The zombies were all over me, and their leader was looking down at me, sneering.
“Fuck you,” I screamed and pushed the button. There was a distant rumble, a pressure wave, and then the world collapsed on me.
“Get those damn charges set, and let’s get out of here,” I growled into my mic. Shadows moved around me, and a turbaned face appeared out of the murky darkness. I shot the onrushing insurgent twice and looked around for more.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I muttered. “We’re past time for evac. Move your slow asses!” Lt. Rodriquez was suddenly at my side, scowling. “We’re doing the best we can, Corporal. Hold on to your hat.”
“Charges set, Lieutenant,” Stevens called out. “That makes all four; we can blow this popsicle stand!”
“About damn time,” I snapped. “There are hostiles everywhere. What the hell is this place, anyway?”
McGavin scoffed. “It’s a temple, Brooks. Remember? We had a briefing and everything.”
“Screw you,” I told him. “This ain’t like no temple that I’ve ever seen. And it smells like a fucking crypt.”
“No lie,” my buddy, Lance Corporal Jeremy Stevens, chimed in.
“Marines,” Rodriquez barked. “Let’s go.”
I led us back out, the six of us in tight formation. Stevens was on my left flank; Sgt. Bates was on my right, and the Lieutenant was in the middle with the beady-eyed “guide” that the Colonel had stuck us with. McGavin brought up the rear.
Dead bodies were everywhere; our ingress had come with a high body count. I ignored them.
Two tours had made me immune to corpses. I had bigger priorities.
There was a commotion in front of us; heard but not seen. Voices cried out in excitement. We froze.
Our position was suddenly hit with massive spotlights. “We’ve been cut off! Break left!” Rodriquez yelled as gunfire erupted all around us. We returned fire, hot and heavy.
Being in front has its disadvantages. I got hit three times, twice in the chest and once in the leg.
My vest took the brunt of the two to the chest, but the leg shot really sucked. I went down but staggered back to my feet and kept fighting.
Stevens took over point; Lt. Rodriquez slid over to his spot and put me in the middle with the guide, who looked scared out of his mind. I didn’t blame him.
We raced through the gloom, moving downhill but not having a choice in the matter. McGavin took a round to the lower back and went down. I shouted, and the unit took up positions around our fallen comrade.
We created a semi-circle facing back the way we’d come, weapons up and ready. There wasn’t long to wait. The horde was on us quickly, the heavy sound of their AK-47s threatening to overwhelm the sharper cracks of our M-4s.
It was over in less than sixty seconds, and to my amazement, we were still standing. There were bodies all around us, and the air was thick with the smell of cordite. Clouds of smoke from the gunfire obscured our lights even further.
It was like being in hell, I thought, sweeping the area with my carbine. Something flashed in my light, and I swung back.
There was a figure standing at the edge of the light. It couldn’t be a friendly, so I shot at it. I missed, and it ducked behind a pile of bodies. The Lieutenant motioned, and Stevens and I went out to get whoever it was.
I’d taken maybe three steps when the figure reappeared, much closer. I could tell it was a man, head and neck wrapped in a shemagh. One arm was holding a bundle, and the other was outstretched toward the ceiling.
His eyes were glowing red. I blinked. His eyes really were glowing; it wasn’t goggles or an optical illusion. Glowing or not, I knew what my job was. I put that head with glowing eyes in my sights and prepared to pull the trigger.
Our guide, who’d been useless and paranoid the entire mission, started screaming and babbling in complete gibberish. The only part that I could make out was something about Manziel or manzazu or some such nonsense, but his outburst caught me off guard, and I missed my shot.
Suddenly there was movement all around us. The bodies of the enemy combatants were stirring. Impossibly, they were staggering to their feet. All around us, corpses were rising from the floor, their eyes shining a baleful crimson.
“What the fuck?” Stevens shouted. “This ain’t happening, man.”
I put a three-round burst into the chest of the corpse nearest me and blew out his heart. It didn’t seem to affect him at all; he just kept shuffling toward me, his arms reaching out. I shot him again, this time doing the Mozambique technique that had been drilled into all Marines. The two shots to the body didn’t do anything, but the follow-up round to the head dropped it.
I could hear my unit screaming, cursing, and shooting the reanimated dead bodies all around me.
They were coming at us from every direction.
We tightened our circle, trying to cover each other as we changed mags and shifted targets. It didn’t matter; they overwhelmed us. There were just too many of them, and we couldn’t put them down fast enough.
I watched in horror as my best friend, Jeremy Stevens, was pulled down by a mob of freaking zombies and torn apart. Behind me, Lt. Rodriquez screamed, and then his voice trailed off into a muffled gurgle, and I knew he was gone, too.
My mag ran dry, and I reached for another, determined to keep fighting. My fingers closed on air. I was out. The undead pressed in, their hands clawing for me. I swung the empty rifle like a club, trying to clear a space.
The undead mob pulled the rifle from my hands, so I drew my Colt 1911 handgun. It was a fine weapon, and I was good with it, but it only held eight rounds. Those eight rounds went quickly.
When the pistol was empty, all sounds of gunfire ceased.
I was the last of the unit standing. The zombies surrounded me. To my right, two of the obscene things were eating my Sergeant. Behind them, more were tearing our guide to pieces.
I spun to my left and saw what was left of Stevens. Hands fastened onto my vest, and I twisted away. More grabbed hold of my legs, and I went down.
The zombies crowded around me. Behind them, looking on, was the man with the glowing eyes, triumph on his face. He cackled with glee.
In desperation, I felt around for anything to use as a weapon. My hands reached above my head and found the remains of the Lieutenant. His head had been ripped off. My hands shifted lower and found the detonator on his belt for the explosive packages that we’d set.
I yanked it free and held it up. The zombies were all over me, and their leader was looking down at me, sneering.
“Fuck you,” I screamed and pushed the button. There was a distant rumble, a pressure wave, and then the world collapsed on me.
Dan Coglan, A.K.A. “Samurai Dan” is the acknowledged masters of marital… er, martial mayhem. Dan travels the civilized portions of the U.S., bringing his unique show to curious and horrified audiences alike.
In addition to their high-energy, mostly safe stage shows (where razor-sharp blades and barbs fly), Dan teaches historical and hysterical panels on the way of the warrior. Offering a wide range of lectures and interactive workshops, Dan provides joy and laughs wherever he goes.
Due to a supreme lack of filter, Dan also performs standup comedy in censored and uncensored settings. A storyteller at heart, Dan is releasing his first book in his Deathstalker Chronicle Series: Invasion of the Undead.
In addition to their high-energy, mostly safe stage shows (where razor-sharp blades and barbs fly), Dan teaches historical and hysterical panels on the way of the warrior. Offering a wide range of lectures and interactive workshops, Dan provides joy and laughs wherever he goes.
Due to a supreme lack of filter, Dan also performs standup comedy in censored and uncensored settings. A storyteller at heart, Dan is releasing his first book in his Deathstalker Chronicle Series: Invasion of the Undead.
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3 signed paperback copies of Invasion of the Undead by Samurai Dan Coglan
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fun
ReplyDeleteThis looks so interesting. I would love to read more.
ReplyDeleteThank you SOOOO much for the great interview (awesome questions!) and for showcasing my new book! We (publishers and I) are really excited for its upcoming release!
ReplyDelete