Thursday, June 28, 2012

Chapter 7 - The Grave Little Toaster

The Grave Little Toster
By: Chester Gifford

Janet was preparing her morning breakfast as she always did. It was a dark morning. She dreaded work. The lab was a cold and dismal place and her research into nanotech was getting nowhere. She couldn’t fathom the 12 hour shift she was about to have to pull.

She turned on the stove and cracked three eggs into it. She then grabbed some bread out of the cupboard. She threw it into the toaster and pushed down the lever. She then continued about her breakfast routine and sat down at the table. Then, realizing she forgot the toast, she got back up.

She approached the toaster and placed her fingers only slightly into the opening. The toaster then shot up from the counter, Janet marveled at the springs which were launching it upward rather than recoiling in horror. She was still in a morning daze. The opening at the top of the toaster was now surrounding her fingers as razor sharp claws clamped down on her hand. Blood shot out from the opening and she could hear it sizzle on the cooking elements, along with her fingers now hopelessly trapped inside.

She screamed in horror as the toaster, seemed to look at he with its cocked blinking lights on the front. The lights which were previously LEDs Janet could now see housed fiber optic lenses.


She hobbled over to the silverware drawer and grabbed a butter knife. She jammed it into the jaw like opening on the toaster. She attempted to pry. As she did, as if it knew what she was doing, the toaster’s jaws clamped shut. And janet was free. It lept back a couple of feet as did Janet. She then realized the horror of what it was doing.


She looked down at her hand. She was missing her middle ring and pinky fingers. A jagged slant went from the second knuckle of her middle finger to the base of her pinky finger which was entirely consumed. She oggled it in horror, feeling nearly no pain, but a rush instead. She noticed a silver fluid surrounding the cut. It was like the toaster had saliva. It looked like mercury.

She recognized it. She knew it well. They were nanites. She had been working on prototypes at Boston Dynamic but so far had been unable to get them to replicate or work together. Clearly they had found a way. They must have hitched a ride home on her body somewhere and multiplied. Suddenly she lost focus of her hand, her instincts were kicking in, the toaster was hopping around on its springs and positioning to leap directly at her face. She caught it in mid air. It was fiery hot. She threw it across the room. It began leaping back at her as she grabbed a chair from her table. She was now glad that she had opted for the metal and glass dining set as opposed to the oak set the salesman tried to talk her into.

She came down on the toaster and it was dented. Now its hopping was off kelter but it was still attemping to come at her. Another blow. Another. Another. She continued to beat the kitchenware until it was little more than twitching motors and wiring.

Now she felt the pain. Her hand throbbed and stung. Her fingers hurt despite their being gone. She searched for her cell phone. She dialed 911. She put the cell phone to her face and then realized the stupidity of what she’d done. She threw it across the room as it exploded, with a notable boom. Had she waited a second longer she would have surely been killed. Now her can opener sprang to life, the blade which was supposed to be only a quarter inch long was now 6 inches long and probing in and out. Two telescoping fiber cameras shot from its bowels and a propeller began rising from the top of it.

Janet ran, as fast as she could. She dodged her flat screen which was tearing itself from her wall, and her printer which was spitting acid from its cartridges. She dove out the front door and kicked it shut behind her. She began looking around her suburban neighborhood as she noticed several unpiloted and highly modified cars were closing in on her at impossible speed.

She closed her eyes.

Big Bug Art

By: Alex K. Barton

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Chapter Six - Monster Sword

Chapter Six
Monster Sword
By: Alex K. Barton

Drip, Plop, Drip, Drip, David watched drops of water splash and mix with the dark purple ooz covering the floor. He had been waiting, waiting to wake up. Slowly he realized he wasn’t going to wake up, and that it may not be a bad idea to look around. At least try and find someplace that made him feel safe. The knowledge he was not alone still lingered in his mind. He rolled onto his knees and then stood. The feeling of saggy wet pants is never a desirable one. So, he began to try and wring out the moister to no avail. He settled for wiping his hands off and changing his focus. He was glad he had a sword. He felt powerful with it. A primal urge and excitement flooded over him. One of a need for survival. Almost holding his breath he took a step with no more than the hope he was headed toward the exit. The dripping sound was almost soothing he thought. Like a fountain, like ocean waves. The white noise of the drops were suddenly interrupted with a splash. David froze and looked around with wide eyes. Trying to conquer the darkness. He took a few more steps. Another splash, followed by the sound of slithering and clicking. He began to move faster. The sounds grew and began to follow him growing more and more frantic. David ran. The walls of the cave came to life with small creatures like the one that had dragged him into this world. They spat their tentacle like arms and threw them self’s from the ceiling trying to latch on to him. Clumsily he lifted his sword and sliced one of the slugs in half. He turned a corner and saw a bright light. “The exit” he thought.
In a dead sprint he ran into the light. His eyes adjusted to the bright white around him only to reveal a large cavern with a hole in the ceiling. He quickly turned to face his pursuers. Nothing. The cave had fallen into a dead silence. He could hear his heart beating, his breath, hot in his mouth. He took a deep sigh. And began to walk with caution into the large chamber before him. Its never a good sign when what scares you gets scared. He thought. As he walked he saw in the shadows the little creatures scurrying around. What are they waiting for he thought.
The ground began to shake a steady rumble. He saw no path, no exit before him... Only a large red glowing dot hovering in the abyss before him . The rumble continued. And out of the shadows the source of the rumbling emerged. A beast the size of a bus pulled its body into the light. With the dropping of its weight on the cavern floor the room shook. The monstrous thing seemed to deflate and jiggle like a balloon full of water.
“Oh shit, I think I have found momma.” David said as he backed up slowly. He knew there was no escape. He felt it in his bones. In the bones of his ancestors. He knew he had to fight for his life. He readied himself and tried to get good footing as he raised his sword.
“Monster sword!, Monster Sword.” Little voices all around him whisper. There was a feeling and the sound of scurrying out side the spotlight the hole in the the ceiling made around him. The large slug in front of him began to groan.
“You'vve not hellld powerrr, over me, and minnne for agessss Canavar. What makesss you think you hoold powerr now?” The sack of flesh, shook and writhed
“I don't know what your talking about. I just want to go home.” David said trembling
“I Donn't speeeak tooo youu weak thinng.” The huge bloated legs of the slug raised up and out from under them came two tentacle arms. One thrust at David and wrapped around his ribs knocking the air out of him, and raising him off the ground. He dropped his sword and gasped to take a breath to no avale. As the blade slid from his hand hilt first the razor sharp edge sliced open his palm and blood began pouring from the deep wound. As the weapon fell to the ground it began to change in color glazed in human blood. From its former state of steel it morphed a to crimson black. A yellow light shone from it. A circle at the base of the blade began to pulse and turn to something that looked like skin. David couldn’t breath. He kept trying to pull in a breath but with every inhale the tentacles grip grew tighter and tighter. The cracking of his ribs was the unbearable panic and pain of being crushed to death slowly. The monster sword stood fully changed. An ancient power fed by human blood, and sacrifice had been awakened. Out of the skin like circle on the blade a slime covered slug like monster formed. A mating of human and monster born in a embryotic sack. It grew and burst into life breaking the egg shell of skin surrounding it. One large yellow eye looked at David. Its life giver, its father. A burst of light sliced though the tentacle holding David. He fell to the ground. The yellow eyed monster squirmed to Davids side and coiled around his ribs. With another flash of yellow light David was healed. Without question or prompt he stood in fear and anger. He charged at the red eyed slug creature pulling the Monster sword from the ground and swung it with all his strength into the red target hovering before him. Like dart into a bulls eye the sword slid into the creatures flesh. The wound the blade made began to fester and the body of the beast pulsated and shook expanding and contracting. Suddenly, it exploded throwing David across the cavern. The skin of the slug was plastered to all the walls and purple and brown slime dripped from everything. Moments later David awoke laying in the carcase of his defeated enemy. Next to him sat the little yellow-eyed slug. He jumped up in panic a shock pointed his sword at it.
“What is going on? I know you all fucking talk or some bullshit! Out with it. Tell me, or your going to look like your friend here! Show me the way out!”
It seemed to look up at him. It scurried toward the main body portion of there former bus sized enemy. David looked down at the blade and remembered small instance of what had happened. He looked at the wound on his hand. It still looked fresh and still hurt but there was no blood. It was as if the blade cleaned the wound. Or at least disposed of the blood... He felt his ribs they weren’t broken anymore. He walked toward his yellow eyed companion. It crawled though the ribs of the defeated and seemed to be leading David. In fact the flesh had been busted off a large portion of the animal that made its ribs look like a gateway. David felt oddly comfortable with following the small monster. As if something was talking to him telling him everything will be alright. As much as he wanted to deny this feeling he felt calm. Suddenly, he was crawling on his hands and knees in a carpet of guts. He kept crawling trying not to cut himself again on his blade, and following the little monster deeper and deeper inside of the corpse. They stopped at a sharp ninety degree angle up. Obviously a drastic change in the body’s placement. He shook his head as if wakening from a day dream. “What am I doing?” He said audibly. The yellow eyed monster looked back at him and shot a tentacle out rapping up his hands and the sword. They began moving at a blinding speed straight up through the inside of the monsters corps, the little yellow-eyed slug dragging David with it. Davids mouth filled with purple goop, and the feeling of a warm chunky gelatine was sliding across his face as the corridor he was being pulled up through became more and more narrow. They burst forth into daylight. As if being reborn. David was half way out of what looked unmistakably like a giant anus. He threw up a little purple ooze and pulled himself out the rest of the way. Exhausted, mentally and physically he slid off of the massive puckered hole that was protruding from the ground, threw up some more because of the smell and began to try and get a handle on what was going on.

To be continued...                                

Monday, June 11, 2012

Galrot Art

Way back along time ago. Chester wrote a story. It was about the time this blog sadly died for a very long time. Here is the Art of the Galrot

Alex K. Barton

Tuesday, June 5, 2012


After a very long time, what to some, seemed like forever, something began stirring in the darkness. Full of unrest, it "RISES FROM THE ASHES!" 



New stories, new images, new adventures, new machines, and monsters.  Join in starting now.    

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Mr. Bones art

Justin Wheeler

Alex K. Barton

Matt Ryan

Justin Wheeler

Chapter Five - The Return of the Galrot

Chapter Five
The Return of the Galrot
By Chester Gifford

My grandfather used to tell us ghost stories around the campfire on his old farm. He told my cousins and I a number of silly stories about scary things when we’d come over. It was my way of getting to go to camp. Every year my cousins and I would go to grandpa’s farm and sit around that stone circle with a large fire popping and crackling away in the moonlight.
Grandpa thought it was important to tell us these things and get us into nature. He said it “thickened our blood and made men of us.” But alas all good things must come to an end. Camping at grandpas ended in a way I’ll never forget. 
There were five of us. Me, Sheldon, my cousins Marty and Matt, and their sisters Sarah and Heather, respectively. My mom had brought us there from a few counties over. She dropped us off with grandpa on a Saturday evening. 
I noticed immediately that Grandpa was different from the last time I had saw him. He didn’t seem to look at us so much as through us…he just gazed, sometimes forgetting to blink and sort of coming to as if he had been asleep with his eyes open.
My mom asked him “Dad are you OK? Do you want me to get you something? A glass of water? A sandwich? You look kind of pale.” 
Grandpa shook his head like he was shaking the sleep off. “OH uhm….no Virginia, thanks. Just ate. Boy me and you kids are gonna have a good time this week! Go on Virginia, I’ll be fine, just didn’t get enough sleep is all. “
“Well alright. “ She said. “You kids have fun! And call me if you need anything dad. I love you.”

“I love you too sweetie…more than you know. “ Grandpa said as she headed out.

He then turned to us and said in a tone that sort of alarmed us “we need to build a fire now.”
We followed grandpa out to the back field and played and laughed as we gathered firewood. This is how we always performed this ritual. We made it tradition. We would sword fight with the wood all the way to the stone circle. Then we’d throw it on. We got a kick out of it and Grandpa got his yard cleaned up. Soon we all sat down around the fire and the usual chatter set in. But grandpa wasn’t participating. Soon he had no choice.
“Grandpa grandpa, tell us a scary story!” Sarah said excitedly. 
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah grandpa!” We all sort of yelled in a garble. 
“Oh uh…alright…grandpa will tell you a story. This isn’t a ghost story though kids uhh….everyone listen up.”
We huddled together anxiously. This sounded good. He began.
“You’re all too young for this. I know you are. But for the good of you I have to tell you. You have to be ready.” Grandpa said in a nervous tone.
This wasn’t the way things usually went. Grandpa was acting very serious. He usually told these stories in a very played up manner, he was very active and descriptive. Tonight however, he was quiet and reserved.
“I wanted you to never come out here, never to have to do this. The Galrot would not let me. It has ways of persuading you. It threatened to hunt you down one by one if I did not bring you out here, as I always do. You must understand this was our only chance. It was chance this stand against him or certainly lose you all.”
He did not laugh. He did not quip or joke. We were not laughing. It was clear to us now that grandpa was very serious and that this was not like the other camping trips.
“The Galrot is a beast with a mighty neck. It has a head as big as a truck and a body like a tank. It has a face like a crazed wolf, its eyes…its eyes can drive a man mad. It has a thick layer of armored spikes that cover its back and side. It has razor sharp studs on its tongue which can wrap around a man and kill him without taking the first bite. The only place to come at it is from underneath, only it never raises up. The Galrot is smart, smarter than you think. And he is deathly fast. He can crush you with just his weight. It is older than time. More than anything the Galrot craves to hunt a child. This is why he brought you here. “
“Grandpa you’re just telling a story aren’t you?” Little Matthew asked, his eyes now watering, ready to cry. 
“I wish I was little Matty. I wish I was. 
Matt burst into tears. Grandpa continued.
“ The Galrot has taunted me for years. As soon as I think it has moved on it will destroy my herd or I will hear about a death in town. Always the same. A vicious mauling. You see our family has been fighting his kind for centuries. Our ancestors were hunters of the malevolent beings. They slew dragons, vampires, werewolves, wiped them out to extinction. The Galrot however were far more intelligent. This one has managed to haunt our family for ages. Rather than pass on the trade to my children I vowed to rid the world of this one once and for all. We have wounded each other time and time again. I never can manage to get a kill strike. Tonight has to be the night though. “
Grandpa then reached down to the chest he had been sitting on. I think we all noticed it being a new addition to the scenery, but no one had really thought anything of it. He pulled out old chainmail armor. It had our family crest emblazoned on the chest. We had this same crest above our fire place at home. Mom had put it there. I was very frightened. He pulled out more armor and began handing it to us. He then said very matter of factly,
“We need to make spears now.”
Everyone put on their armor and grandpa handed out long poles and gave us all swords of varying lengths from the chest. Matthew was only 9 years old and his armor dragged the ground behind him. He was sobbing as he tried to sharpen the pole grandpa had given him. Grandpa looked at me and said “That’s good. I won’t be able to guard you all. Since you’re the oldest you should look after Little Matthew.”
Everyone was scared to death. We barely knew what was going on. I’m sure some thought that we were just playing along with grandpa and this was all a big joke. All of these notions were cast aside when we hear the howl.
It sounded like the scream of a woman combined with the ungodly bellow of a pack of hounds. We saw those reflective eyes peering at us through the treeline, only for an instant, and then they went black. We saw nothing after that. Grandpa took command.
“BACK TO BACK! Everyone put your backs against one another. Swords out, spears up, do not strike unless you have a clean shot. He will try to trick you, he will try to fool you into falling so that he may devour you. He will try and pick you off one by one. He wants a hunt! He wants a hunt more than anything, but we won’t give it to him. If he wants our meat he will have to pry it from out of our armor and from our swords. WE WILL NOT SUBSIDE DEMON BEAST!”
From the woods we faintly heard the beast snarl back “You are….mistaken old man.”
This was no ordinary creature of the forest. It could speak, and malevolently so. It was horrifyingly fast and cunning. We were more afraid now than ever. Suddenly we heard it. 
Kathump kathump kathump kathump. KATHUMP KATHUMP. We saw the black hide in a blur, barreling at us at inhuman speed. It was aiming straight for little Matthew. 

He looked like a warrior general in his armor, slightly more ornate than ours. I wonder who had worn this before me and what they had killed in it. The Galrot was approaching quickly and I knew we would not escape unscathed.
Matthew began weeping uncontrollably. He then began screaming at the top of his lungs and broke the line. He began running toward the house.

“NO MATTHEW!” Grandpa shouted. 
Grandpa then began to run at the Galrot. He was in a dead sprint. His speed was uncanny for his age. He was reborn in our eyes. We reformed the line, just the three of us now. Back to back. Shaking. The Galrot closed in.
He lept. Grandpa lunged at the great beast and slashed at its unarmored legs. The beast rolled to avoid it. The resulting thump of his hide hitting the ground sounded like a car wreck. This was the most massive creature I had ever seen. And now it was circling my grandfather, snarling. 
“You have hunted we Galrot to the brink old man. It was a fool’s errand. WE WILL NEVER DIE…” The Galrot bellowed. 
“Wrong beast. This ends here. Tonight. You will haunt my family no longer. I will see your head on a pike before this fight is done. “
“Hahahaha” The Galrot laughed. “It is too late for that old man. I am no longer alone in this world. It took me centuries, but I finally found a mate. My family is much bigger than yours.”
“HRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW​WWWWWWWWW” The Galrot howled into the night sky. Suddenly a piercing shriek of howls and chitters came from the woods around us. We saw the same reflective eyes again from the treeline. Not one, not two pair. Dozens.
Then we heard the thunder of their mighty paws as they approached. 
We knew there was no hope. Matthew was now safe inside the house but we knew even the sturdy old ranch house would not hold back this army of beasts. 

He began to slash at the Galrot. He was agile. He dove into the beast’s hide with his sword, time and time again. Every time a “clank” and the sword came out clean. The beast was circling him, trying to snap when the sword went into the armor. Finally the great Galrot lunged at grandpa. Grandpa put his sword deep into the mighty beast as its claw came through his side. They both lay there, the Galrot dead, Grandpa dying. We were at the house by then. I told the children to continue in and went to get grandpa.
“You must save them now boy. There is a safe room. It is below the house In the cellar. The combination for the door is 21899. Go there. There is food there, and weapons. You’ll be safe at daylight. I don’t know if it will hold them all back but it is your best chance.” Grandpa said. He lay on the ground, bleeding heavily. 
“Grandpa…your side…come with us.” I pleaded.
“BOY THERE IS NO TIME” he shouted. “NOW GO! GOOOO NOW BOY! “ I ran. I ran and cried and ran harder. I made it into the house and turned around. Grandpa was back on his feet. Clutching his side. 
“YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM BOY! YOU’RE MY BLOOD. YOU WILL FIND A WAY.” He shouted. Then, laughing, he turned toward the onslaught of tank sized armor plated beasts pummeling towards him. He laughed and began swinging his sword. I saw him take down one, two, before finally being lost in them. I still heard him laughing as I closed the door to the safe room.