Al's Top 10 Favorite James Bond Films

This year, 2012, marks the 50th anniversary of Ian Fleming’s famed fictitious hero, James Bond, as he appears on film. Chances are you might have heard of this guy: works for MI6, the British Secret Service, he likes his vodka martinis shaken not stirred, and he’s a real hit with the ladies. For the past fifty years, across 5 different actors and 23 different films, Bond has been the epitome of a hero that combines charm with machismo. All the Bond films have pushed the envelope for action and entertainment. All of them have brought something new and thrilling to the table, pitting 007 against so many odd enemies and challenges.

I’ve been a James Bond fan since high-school, but exploring each film has never gotten old for me. If anything, they all seem to improve and entertain a little more with each new viewing. Even then, there are some I like more than others.

In light of the 50th anniversary celebration, here is my personal top ten favorite James Bond films:

10: Licence to Kill (1989)

This might just be the bloodiest and most brutal Bond film of the entire lot. It gets pretty gnarly as one poor henchman gets shredded in a grinder, another guy gets stabbed by a forklift, and one of the major baddies gets stuck in a decompression chamber that causes his head to explode. In a way, these excesses work in favor of the film, because it makes the threat a lot more real, especially when it comes from the hands of the main antagonist: Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi), a real cold and brutal drug dealer who could give Tony Montanna a run for his money. Timothy Dalton plays Bond, who plays it real hard and tough as he tracks down Franz. The real twist here is that Bond is not just running after the bad guy for king and country: he’s in it because they messed around with his buddy Felix Leiter, murdering his wife and having his legs bitten off by sharks, so naturally Bond wants some payback. With the theme of vengeance running strong, Licence to Kill stands out as one of the most hard-hitting Bond movies.

Entertainment: Good | Story: Very Good | Film: Good

09: Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

As the 90s marched on, globalization really started to kick in with the advents of the Internet, satellite communications, and world news delivering information around the world all the time. With this in mind, TND builds its concept from a frighteningly realistic notion: what if the CEO of a news company decides to start a war, for the sole purpose of selling the news? Maybe this is still a little outlandish, but compared to every other Bond film, this is a premise that fits in perfectly with the information age. Jonathan Pryce plays a rather hammy villain, orchestrating all this madness, while Pierce Brosnan puts on his usual charm and cool wit opposite Michelle Yeoh to kick a lot of serious butt.

Entertainment: Very Good | Story: Good | Film: Good

08: Quantum of Solace (2008)

Underrated masterpiece, or underwhelming disappointment? Most viewers seem to fall on one side of the fence or the other with this film; strangely, I’ve felt both. On the first viewing, I was really thrown off by the film’s erratic, rapid-fire editing, which slams the action into the viewers’ faces. As for the plot, it strings together a bunch of insane action sequences and doesn’t really draw the lines from point A to point B the way the other films do.

On repeat viewings, however, I found myself more complacent with the loud, crazy, fast-cut action scenes; the opening car chase really makes you feel like you’re in the passenger seat with Bond as he careens through the Italian countryside and blasts this machine gun out the window. As for the rest of the film, it touches upon a lot of key issues that resonate with the modern age: the diminishing natural resources, poverty, class differences, corporate manipulation of governments, and more. As Bond treads through a morally ambiguous political terrain, he winds up rushing against the grain with his own allies. What’s most important, however, is the theme of revenge, especially in the final scenes, which bring closure to the events of Casino Royale. In spite of that, Quantum of Solace is best seen back-to-back with Casino Royale, forming a cohesive double-bill that fully develops Bond’s character (portrayed with serious skill and attitude by Daniel Craig).

Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Good | Film: Pretty Good

07: The Man With the Golden Gun (1974)

Certainly not the best or most serious film in Roger Moore’s repertoire as James Bond, but this might be the funnest, at least in my opinion. Bearing little in common with Ian Fleming’s novel, this film pits Bond against the hotshot assassin Scaramanga (played by Count Dooku…I mean, Saruman…I mean, Christopher Lee), and his vertically-challenged sidekick Nick Nack (Herve Villechaize). The story tears across all of Thailand with some really fun boat and car chases; one big highlight of which includes a car performing a magnificent 180-degree roll across a river. The most interesting showdown occurs on Scaramanga’s island hideout, where he and Bond chase each other in a funhouse-style maze. What helps make this stand out is Scaramanga himself, who comes across as what Bond himself would have been if he was evil (a type of parallel that would also come into play in Skyfall).

Entertainment: Very Good | Story: Good | Film: Good

06: The Living Daylights (1987)

Expanding upon one of Ian Fleming’s short stories, this flick kicks up the action a great deal, as Bond hops around the world from one big car or foot chase to another. He serves as a sniper in the beginning, leads a full-blown rebellion toward the end, and uses a small wealth of gadgets to give armies of bad guys the slip. It’s a pretty heavy case of one-thing-leading-to-another, and it makes for a nonstop thrill ride. Timothy Dalton shows some adequate charm and wit in this film, but mostly channels a type of angst that helps give him a more serious attitude (only outmatched by Daniel Craig). Maryam d’Abo plays the Bond girl in this flick, and might be my favorite one. Funnily enough, Joe Don Baker plays the villain, even though he reappears later in GoldenEye and Tomorrow Never Dies as an ally.

Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Good | Film: Very Good

05: Skyfall (2012)

Not everybody has taken too kindly to the latest 007 film, citing it as appearing far less like James Bond and more like Jason Bourne. Skyfall additionally takes some huge influences from Christopher Nolan’s Batman films, so the film is loaded with some serious plot twists that might strain some believability, and may cause some viewers to call this film weak, pretentious, or overrated.

As a fan of both Bond and The Dark Knight films, any issues in Skyfall never really bothered me that much, and I enjoyed it quite thoroughly. I was personally impressed as to how high the film kicked up the stakes: this is the first time in a Bond film where MI6 itself is targeted and bombed, and where M becomes a target (she was captured in The World is Not Enough, but in Skyfall, it’s a lot more intense). The film goes on to reintroduce a few old characters in a completely new way, appealing to old-time fans while paving the way for a canonical future. Daniel Craig continues in his mean streak as Bond, while Javier Bardem puts on a quality performance as one of the weirdest and creepiest Bond villains of the lot. Their interactions serve to underscore some strong themes regarding the characters’ progress and future, and ultimately fuel the complex dynamics of the story. Whether you love it or hate it, it proves once and for all that Bond is here to stay.

Entertainment: Very Good | Story: Very Good | Film: Very Good

04: Goldfinger (1964)

There can be no best-of list for Bond without mentioning Goldfinger in any respect. This film has all the classic moments that have defined the franchise over the decades: the girl covered in gold, the creeping laser-beam scene, the man with the iron hat, the fight in Fort Knox, the car with the ejector seat, the bad guy appearing with a golden pistol…chances are that you may know these scenes even if you’ve never seen the film. It’s not just a bunch of random cool scenes though: the film plows through its fun and simple story at full speed, loading it up with action and suspense. Sean Connery, cool as ever, plays Bond for the third time in his career, while Gert Fröbe portrays a decently wacky villain. Honor Blackman appears as one of the most famous Bond girls, thanks largely to her unintentionally suggestive name.

Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Good | Film: Very Good

03: GoldenEye (1995)

This was the first Bond movie I saw, and it remains a top favorite. After a six year gap, Bond blasted back to the big screen with loads of incredible action: it starts of thrillingly as Bond bungee jumps off a dam, before blowing up a Russian base, having plenty of intense shootouts with bad guys, driving a tank through St Petersburg, and ultimately duking it out with the villain on top of a satellite dish array. Not only is the entertainment good, but the story is too, as Bond is forced to confront a specter of his past while facing the challenges of the future. With the Cold War ended, it seemed as though Bond was a useless relic; this film turned it around and paved an endearing future for the character, and the stories.

Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Very Good | Film: Very Good

02: Thunderball (1965)

Of all the Bond movies, Thunderball has always seemed like the sexiest and most exotic film of them all. Set in the gorgeous beaches and waters of the Bahamas, the film runs through a fairly simple story (theft of nuclear weapons, pretty standard action-movie territory by today’s standards) with plenty of style.  It is probably the closest adaptation of an Ian Fleming novel to date, for it is scene-by-scene and word-for-word the same for about 95% of it.  The film brims with beautiful women and locations. Plus, it has a lot of intense fist-fighting, pursuits, and suspenseful scenes. The film is long and thrilling, and it makes for a very satisfying adventure. Sean Connery is still the man as James Bond; Adolfo Celi is iconic as the eyepatched villain Largo, while Claudine Auger and Luciana Paluzzi add some serious sex appeal to the mix.

Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Perfect | Film: Very Good

01: Casino Royale (2006)

After 20 Bond movies, the series had decidedly grown stagnant, ending with the rather overblown Die Another Day (a film held in very little regard, but still ranks as a top favorite guilty pleasure for me personally). It was decided that Bond needed a fresh start. So in ’06, Casino Royale was released.

This new Bond proved to be very fresh, bold, and different. It may rub long-time fans the wrong way, seeing Bond without his famous gadgets, spending more time in a card game than kicking butt, and in seeing blonde hair on the guy for a radical change.

Personally, I never saw much ground for such complaints: Daniel Craig established himself very well as James Bond, adapting a perfectly volatile mix of suave charm, brutal attitude, and cold-heartedness that has always defined Bond, but was never quite as vibrant or intense as seen in Craig’s performance. The film starts off hard-hitting, showing Bond in a hard-edged fistfight in a gaudy bathroom, in the assignment that grants him his initial license to kill. From then on, the film plows ahead at full steam: the opening scenes in Africa are incredible as Bond runs down a parkour master through a construction yard and into an embassy, practically destroying both locales in the process. Bond constantly runs into danger from then on, having to fight goons, finding himself poisoned, running down a terrorist at the Miami airport, and ultimately confronting a gang of baddies in Venice. The film is long, but it’s so full of action that it feels very fulfilling.

At the heart of it, the film still focuses very well on its storytelling, especially in regards to showing Bond’s first mission and his attachment to Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), whose fate would affect Bond in all his future endeavors (perhaps moreso than the events of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which provided a major turning point for Bond throughout the original series). In the end, Casino Royale is one of those few movies I value the most: the type that perfectly balances storytelling with action, and does so with style.

Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Perfect | Film: Perfect

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Film Review: SkyFall (007)

"Sometimes the old ways are the best." - Naomie Harris

As the 23rd official James Bond film overall (and the third starring Daniel Craig), Skyfall starts off fresh and thrilling with a really impressive chase scene throughout Istanbul...then, the film and character literally plunges into the depths of stark new territory.  The film does go on to cover some standard James Bond ground for the first act:  Bond still hobnobs around casinos, drinks a vodka martini, chases after some girls...but throughout the second half, all of the stakes were raised so substantially, it pushed the characters to their limits.  With all the bold, thrilling plot twists and turns, Skyfall is to 007 what The Dark Knight was to Batman:  in both cases, the heroes tread along a knife's edge and go through extreme measures to ensure victory.

Rest assured, the film still entertains every bit as much as the other films of the franchise.  Despite a few slow parts, most of it (especially in the last half) remains consistently suspenseful, thrilling, exciting, and even humorous at times.  There are even a huge number of references and nods to established elements of Bond lore, and by the film's end, it feels as though one age of Bond has passed and another has begun (which is funny, because I thought the transition was more or less complete after Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace; it goes to show that the filmmakers still have some aces up their sleeves).

The story for this film is quite sound, and amazingly thoughtful.  From the start, it emphasizes James Bond's seniority, as he suffers in the line of duty, feels the burden of aging, and as politicians put his usefulness into question.  The film goes on to talk about the old vs the new, or the past vs the present, and it does an effective job of mixing the old and the new in interesting ways.  These key themes and conflicts keep the plot running, and ultimately spurs newfound life and depth in the characters, for both Bond and the villain he ultimately uncovers.  Their interactions prove to be quite profound; many of Bond's most memorable villains have been foil characters, but in this case, I really got the feeling that this villain would have been Bond himself if things were different.  Given the character motivations, the rising stakes, and the ultimate climax, the film showcases one of the most unusual and most hard-hitting Bond stories of the lot.  Purists may find it totally uninteresting, but it'll strike a stronger chord with the modern generation, for the film proves that James Bond is still the man.

As expected, the film looks nice and slick.  A bit drab in terms of tone and color design (for better or for worse), but the camera work is decent, and the editing is good (thankfully, not nearly as screwy as Quantum of Solace).  Acting is great; Daniel Craig is still perfect as James Bond, while Judi Dench continues to play it tough as M, and Javier Bardem puts on a nuanced performance (despite playing a rather weird, child-like character).  Ralph Fiennes and Naomie Harris are both a pleasure to watch as well.  The writing is quite slick, full of wit and depth.  This production does a fine job with the sets, props, and costumes.  I've seen plenty of folks complaining about the special effects, but they never really bothered me that much.  Same with the music; I love Thomas Newman's score, regardless of how different it is from the usual works of David Arnold or John Barry.  And, I do love Adele's theme song.

I definitely enjoyed this film, and it would rank pretty high on my list of favorite 007 films.  Whether you're a fan or not, the film is certainly worth checking out.  Recommended!

4.5/5 (Entertainment:  Very Good | Story:  Very Good | Film:  Very Good)

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Film Review: Dark Shadows (2012)

"It is said that blood is thicker than water. It is what defines us, binds us... curses us." - Johnny Depp

I've always heard of the original 1966 TV series Dark Shadows, but I never saw it, so I have no idea how it compares with this film. At the very least, I always thought it was weird that they'd make a movie out of this after more than forty years of the TV show's premier.

On its own merits, the film has its moments. Tim Burton's typical gothic aesthetic is applied pretty generously, so the film does have its fair share of darkly fantastic imagery, wicked monsters, and imaginative special effects. There are also occasional moments of amusing comedy. In fact, it comes pretty close to achieving the same effect as the film adaptations of The Addams Family or The Brady Bunch, since all these films took the characters of the original shows and plopped them into modern times to create some really funny scenes. The Dark Shadows film sets out to do the same, and it is successful at times. The problem is, it's never constant, so the film tends to drag in between the funny scenes and the more eventful scenes.

The story for this is not too bad. I've heard that the film crams in entire seasons of the show into its short runtime; fortunately, the film is never rushed, but it feels as though a number of scenes, subplots, and characters are presented without any direct bearing on the main story. Regardless, the film does a fine job of keeping all the plots and characters straight and presentable for the audience. Characters are pretty interesting all around, even if some of them are one-sided or undercooked. A running theme of family helps tie it all together.

The film looks good and slick, with good photography and editing. Acting is not bad; I enjoyed Johnny Depp's eccentricities, and I loved Eva Green's performance. Writing is alright. A good amount of quality sets, props, costumes, and special effects were dispensed effectively. Music is pretty groovy.

I recommend it as a rental.

3.5/5 (Entertainment: Pretty Good | Story: Pretty Good | Film: Pretty Good)

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Gods Among Men: Excerpt Chapter 4

So this month is National Novel Writing Month, and I've decided to devote this month to write out a novel idea that I've had for the past year or so.  It's set in a distant future, following in the aftermath of a devastating war between men and super-men.  Following the war, the super-men built a city called Theopolis:  a massive sprawl legislated by a human-run senate, but protected by a league of superheroes.  In this setting, the story focuses on Troy Gaines:  an outsider who uses a teleportation device to pass himself off as a super-hero, with the hopes of joining the Pantheon and becoming a true protector of the city.  To prove his worth, he is sent on a mission to investigate the disappearances of key personnel.  After snooping around for a bit, he has the following encounter.

This is still a work in progress, and is quite rough.

Additional information and progress can be accessed through my NaNoWriMo profile.

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                Troy stopped at a café for lunch, and was enjoying a hot beef sandwich served au jus, with a side of home fries and peas.  As he dipped his sandwich in the savory sauce, he relaxed and watched the people on the street as they passed by.  There were no shortages of pretty girls on the boulevard.

                Suddenly, a man sat down at the table across from Troy.  Tall, with bulging muscles, the man was easily twice Troy’s size.  A number of red tattoos ordained his ebony skin, accentuating the curvature of his massive biceps.  The stranger had long, mangy black hair that rippled down to his shoulders.  His eyes were dark and wicked, and he had a nasty scar cutting across his cheek down to his jaw.

                Regarding the scary-looking man, Troy smiled and said, “Hello,” before taking a bite of his sandwich.

                Scowling, the stranger spoke with a booming, intimidating voice, “The boss says you’ve been asking too many questions.”

                The threat was all too obvious to Troy; any other man would have likely been frightened by the encounter, and would have given up on the investigation.  Instead, Troy felt a certain giddiness in knowing that he had come so close to the truth that he invoked a reaction.  Whatever villainy was at work, they felt threatened by Troy’s snooping, and they wanted him eliminated.  More importantly, this was Troy’s chance to dig for more information.

                Still smirking, Troy said, “That’s my job.  I hope you’re here to answer some of my questions.”

                “I’m here to shut you up for good,” the man warned.

                “Who sent you? I hope it’s not my ex-girlfriend.”

                Showing off his teeth in an amused smile, the man revealed a set of jagged, sharp dentures.  He said, “Oh, you think you’re a funny man, do you? You’ll be a dead man soon.”

                “Oh my, what big teeth you have,” Troy mocked.

                “That’s nothing,” the man grinned.  He held up his hands, and his fingernails extended to form long, sharp claws. “Now these, are all the better to rip your heart out with.”

                “Who says I have a heart worth ripping out?”

                “Me,” the man growled. “My name is Snipes McBane.  Enemies call me the Wolf.”

                “I can’t imagine why,” Troy said. “Are you a friend of Duran DeLange?”

                “You keep asking questions, I’m going to claw your throat out!”

                “All I see so far is all bark and no bite.”

                “Do you really want to see what I can do? I’ll take a bite out of you!”

                “Not without a little sauce first,” Troy said, hastily throwing the cup of jus at the Wolf.  Steaming hot broth splashed on his face messily, making him scream in irritation.  A deep beastly growl came out of his throat.

                Snipes suddenly thrashed his arms up and knocked the table to the side, throwing off all the food and appliances that were on it.  There were shouts and cries from the people around them, either fleeing or watching the scene with alarm.  Stepping closer, Snipes grabbed Troy by the throat and lifted him off of his chair.  He brought his other hand back and balled it into a fist, ready to strike it hard against Troy’s skull.

                As Snipes took a swing, Troy turned on his teleporter device and vanished.  The enemy’s arm slugged through empty space, with tendrils of blue mist wrapping around his fist.  Swirling around Snipes, the glowing apparition moved behind him, before Troy reappeared.  Flanking his enemy, he swung his foot out and struck Snipes in the back.  The Wolf staggered forward, crashing into a nearby table.

                Whirling, the Wolf grabbed the table he fell on and hurled it at Troy.  With his teleportation, Troy vanished for an instant, allowing the table to fly through his disembodied form.  As he reappeared, the table crashed behind him.

                Regarding his enemy, Troy tried to consider how he could possibly overpower him.  It probably would have been sensible to teleport far away; he fly to the other side of the city in an instant if he wanted to.  He didn’t consider running away to be an acceptable option; he was eager to question Snipes and find out everything he knew.

                Lunging toward Troy, Snipes took a wide swing, threatening to dig his claws into his opponent’s side.  Teleporting for just an instant, Troy evaded the Wolf’s attack, and appeared at his side.  Grabbing a chair from nearby, he swung it at Snipes with all his might.  The enemy blocked the chair with his arm; with a strong downward thrust, he bashed the chair to the ground and smashed it to pieces.

                At that moment, they could hear sirens sounding from the distance.  It was an indication that the nearest patrol of enforcers were on their way, to stop the fight and maintain the peace.  Oblivious to the noise, Snipes rammed himself into Troy.  His fists slammed into Troy’s side as he pushed him into the café’s wall.

                Just as the Wolf swung his fist again, Troy vanished and slipped away as a flowing blue stream.  Snipe’s hand struck the wall with a bone-crunching crack, and he cried out in pain and rage.

                From above, an enforcer patrol vehicle glided over the boulevard and lowered gently.  As it hovered just a few feet off the ground, a pair of enforcers jumped out of the vehicle’s side.  They were dressed in gray and white body armor, and had laser pistols drawn.  Approaching Snipes from the rear, they aimed their guns and ordered, “Freeze!”

                Snarling, the Wolf lunged at the nearest policeman and slammed him against the side of the vehicle.  Punching at the man’s head repeatedly, Snipes knocked the enforcer out, before snatching away his helmet with his claws.

                Flanking Snipes, the second enforcer fired his gun.  A pair of laser beams spat from the gun’s barrel and into Snipe’s side; the beams sent electric pulses rippling through his body, making him convulse.  The guns were usually enough to stun a normal man; as big and strong as the Wolf was, he merely became agitated, and growled at the enforcer.

                Slamming himself into the enforcer, Snipes swiped his clawed hand out at him, and knocked the gun out of his hands.  Thrashing his hands again, Snipes threw the policeman into the side of the vehicle.  It was a strong enough blow to knock the enforcer out.

                Reappearing in front of Snipes, Troy picked up the gun that was knocked away from the enforcer.  Aiming it at the Wolf, Troy turned up the weapon’s power, and said, “Down boy.  You’ve been very naughty.  I’m going to have to put you down.”

                Still seething, Snipes was clearly overcome with a volatile mixture of adrenaline and rage.   He was still cognizant enough to recognize that Troy could still outflank and gun him down, especially with his teleportation powers.  Sneering, the Wolf said, “I’m not telling you anything.”

                “No matter,” Troy shrugged. “The Pantheon can take you in, and they have ways of making you talk.”

                “They’ll never cage me!”

                Snipes suddenly moved, and Troy snapped a shot at him.  The laser beam from his gun missed the Wolf by mere inches; the blast cut the air behind him, singeing some of his long black hair.  The beam continued into the enforcer vehicle, boring a clean, smoldering hole in the metal siding.

                It took an instant for Snipes to climb into the enforcer’s vehicle and move to the front seat.  Taking the controls, he flew the vehicle over the street and accelerated toward the nearest highway.  As the vehicle flew away, Troy aimed with his pistol and snapped another shot.  A bright red beam lanced toward the hovercraft, striking its underside and blowing another hole in its chassis.  A shower of sparks followed, and the vehicle tilted to one side; it was an indication that Troy had struck a vital system.

                Transporting himself, Troy zoomed over the street and flew in tandem with the enforcer vehicle.  He pushed himself fast enough to catch up to it; he brought himself side-by-side with its driver’s side window, and could see Snipes through the glass.  He saw Troy’s disembodied mist, and reacted by veering the hovercraft into him.  The vehicle swerved sharply in the air, passing directly through Troy’s vaporous form.

                The vehicle glided toward a skyscraper; Snipes tried to bank around it, but thanks to the damage the hovercraft sustained from Troy’s gunshot, it was unable to turn effectively.  Striking the side of the building, the vehicle scraped against the concrete wall with an explosion of sparks and flying shrapnel.  Continuing forward, it dived and spiraled toward a highway.

                Raised high above the lower levels of the city, the highway was a major bloodline to the heart of the city.  There were hundreds of cars and light hovercraft speeding along its smooth stone surface.  When the damaged enforcer vehicle slammed into the middle of the highway, several cars immediately struck the wrecked vehicle; one of them rammed straight into the vehicle’s side, crunching its hood in with a shower of broken glass and metal.  Two others struck the crashed ship at odd angles, causing them to flip and vault into the air; they flew for a short distance, before landing hard on the road with earthshattering crunches.  Behind the wrecked vehicles, more cars skidded to a sudden halt, causing more of them to crash into each other.

                Climbing out of the smashed enforcer vehicle, Snipes had a deep gash on his scalp that trickled blood.  He staggered onto the road, disoriented.

                Flying into the scene of the accident, Troy appeared behind Snipes and pressed his gun against the Wolf’s head.  Troy firmly iterated, “It was a nice attempt at escape, but it was completely reckless.  The Pantheon won’t let this carnage go unpunished.”

                “You think this is carnage?” the Wolf scoffed. “You haven’t seen anything yet!”

                “Oh? Tell me what you know then.”

                “You’ll find out soon enough! A plague is coming to this city of gods, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it!”

                Before Troy to inquire any further, Snipes darted forward, and he crossed the median.  Troy reacted by snapping several shots at the Wolf; one of his laser beams grazed his enemy’s leg, burning through the pant leg and drawing blood.  Snipes shouted in pain, but continued to run into highway traffic.

                Stepping into the busy road, he faced an oncoming car.  It skidded to a halt with its horn blaring.  Leaping, Snipes jumped onto the car’s hood, just as it bore down on him.  Running over the car’s roof, he leapt onto another car in the next lane.  Landing on the car’s hood, his body weight crunched the metal inward.  In a panic, the car’s driver slammed on the brakes and sent the car into a skidding turn.  It flung Snipes off of the hood, and he rolled across the street.

                With two stopped cars in the middle of the highway, cars came to a stop and cautiously moved around the vehicles.  One car roared past Snipes; he reached up with a clawed hand and grabbed onto the car’s side door.  As the car sped forward, it dragged the Wolf among; he used his other clawed hand to grip into the car’s side and pull himself up.  He clung to the roof and rode the car further down the highway.

                Teleporting, Troy appeared as a brilliant comet hovering in tandem with the car.  Snipes snarled at the disembodied specter.  Veering into him, Troy materialized for a split-second, to shove Snipes firmly in the chest.  Knocked off of the car, he tumbled off and landed on the hood of another car in the next lane.  It was a strong enough impact to smash in the car’s hood, crippling the engine and forcing the car to slow to a halt.

                Reacting to the accident, other cars slowed and continued around the stopped car.  Troy materialized beside the stopped vehicle.  Seeing him appear out of the blue haze, Snipes immediately ripped open the car’s door and grabbed its driver.  He held up a young blonde girl, who screamed in terror and squirmed against his grasp.

                When Troy came to full human form, he saw the hostage and immediately trained his gun at Snipe’s head.  While the Wolf held up the woman with one hand, he brought his other hand to her throat, with his claws extended.  He warned, “Time for the moment of truth, hero! You could take me in, or you can save this girl!”

                Just a few miles down the road, where the other accidents occurred, sirens rang out, and more enforcer vehicles hovered around the highway.  Troy said, “You’ll never get far.”

                “Then your choice has been made! Catch her if you can!”

                Snipes threw the girl over the side of the highway, with the ease of tossing a rag doll.  Flying over the guardrail, she plummeted through the air to the city blocks hundreds of feet below.  Her scream was shrill and constant, and gradually faded the further she fell.

                Troy had only an instant to react.  He could have taken a shot at Snipes, but he feared that the falling girl would have died by the time he aimed and fired.  Instead, he teleported and raced after the girl.  His vaporous form fell through the road, and he zoomed toward the freefalling figure.  She was halfway to the ground; the buildings beneath them were rising up like teeth, threatening to devour the falling hostage.

                The combination of gravity and speed helped Troy cross over a hundred feet within seconds.   Honing in on the girl, his immaterial form wrapped around her, before he materialized.  It took only a second for him to grab her and teleport again.  Together, they disappeared in mid-fall, turning into a singular stream of glowing particles.

                Troy led them back to the highway, and he materialized on the side of the road next to the wrecked car.  When he reappeared, he released the girl, and she staggered on the ground disoriented and confused.  Once she realized that she was out of danger, she regarded Troy with astonishment and pleaded, “Oh my God, I thought I was going to die!”

                “Oh no, we couldn’t have that,” Troy remarked.

                “Thank you so much, mister! You are a real hero! I owe you my life!”

                Looking around, Troy saw no sign of the Wolf.  As expected, he made a clean escape, and Troy felt disappointed. 

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Film Review: Return to House on Haunted Hill

"Isn't this the House where all those people died a few years ago?" - Tom Riley 

Eight years after the release of the House on Haunted Hill remake, this little film came to home video. It pretty much is direct-to-video trash, offering a few thrills, but nothing substantial.

The best that can be said is that the film has some very wicked scenes of blood and gore, and some rather arousing nude scenes. Unfortunately, the film does drag at spots, and it feels uneven.

The film does its best to build on its predecessor, as it uses the same settings, same production design, and going so far as bringing back Jeffrey Combs to play the same bad guy as in the first film. One other valuable aspect is that, as the ghosts kill off all the hapless characters, the film uses some really wicked flashbacks to explore more of the house's violent history.

Unfortunately, that's all the good that can be said about it. The film employs some rather dull, lifeless characters who serve as little more than crazy-ghost-fodder. The story doesn't have much of a structure or point at all, and it's especially dumb in the way it explains away the hauntings with a mere demonic statue (which also serves as a rather weak and uninspired McGuffin).

The film doesn't look too bad in terms of filming and editing. Acting and writing aren't anything worth praising though. This production has okay-looking sets, props, and costumes, and some rather weak special effects. Music isn't really great either.

2.5/5 (Entertainment: Average | Story: Poor | Film: Poor)

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Film Review: House on Haunted Hill (1999)

"Funky old house...ain't it?!" - Geoffrey Rush

It seems like the 1959 House on Haunted Hill gets a lot of love, if for no other reason than for Vincent Price's alluring performance. I personally felt the original film was rather slow, dull, gimmicky, and totally not scary. In spite of that, and probably because this remake falls squarely within my generation, I found this rendition of the story superior.

Not only does the film update the look, style, and story, but it also updates the scares...and I still think it's pretty darn scary. The opening titles themselves are creepy, with its montage of strange and gnarly imagery and Don Davis' creepy music score. The next scene, where the lunatics literally take over the asylum, is quite intense. A few other key scenes stand out as being definitely freaky, thanks largely to the strange, twitchy, unnatural-looking nature of all the ghosts and visions the characters experience. A lot of reviewers tend to harp on the film's final act: an explosive sequence in which all the ghosts pool together in a huge dark Lovecraftian mass and chases all the characters around. Most would say that these final scenes are overblown and insipid; despite such weaknesses, I always felt the big mass of ghosts was far scarier than most other things produced on film. Overall, something about the way this film reveals the ghosts, the type of imagery it uses, and the threat it emphasizes, stands out above most other ghost stories. The experience is marred just a bit by some level of cheesy acting and maybe some plot holes, but the atmosphere is effectively creepy and unnerving, and the ghosts really do freak me out.

This story provides a substantial update over the original, taking the original concept and building greater depth and detail into the actual house and its ghostly occupants. There is still a twist to the plot...in fact, there are several. There are so many twists that it will require a greater suspense of disbelief. Regardless, the film is structured in a way that reveals each twist and turn without becoming too convoluted. Characters show plenty of personality; it is especially wicked to watch Geoffrey Rush, who pays some welcome homage to Vincent Price.

This film is stylish and slick, with plenty of interesting and solid photography. Editing is decent. Acting can be rather silly (especially with Chris Kattan in the mix, offering a rather strange performance), but I did enjoy the cast very well. I've always had a soft spot for Geoffrey Rush and Famke Janssen in this film; Jeffrey Combs is very wicked in his role, and everybody else fulfills their parts well. Writing is not great, but distinctive and fun. This production features a lot of really stylish and interesting sets, props, and costumes. Some of the special effects aren't aging well, but are mostly-effective. Music is quite scary.

Recommended as a rental at the least.

4/5 (Entertainment: Perfect | Story: Pretty Good | Film: Good)

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Short Story: Lamentations for the Living Dead

WARNING:  This story contains liberal amounts of blood and gore.

    This city was once called Vancouver:  a bustling hub of commerce and culture during the heyday of human civilization.  Then, as the Necrobonic Plague swept through the continent, the city fell into gradual ruin.  As I write this, most of the great monuments and skyscrapers collapsed into the streets as jagged hulks of metal, glass, and concrete.  Trash and debris littered the sidewalks and thousands of abandoned cars occupied the streets.  The only sound in the city was the soft howl of a gentle breeze.
    Despite the silence and loneliness of the dead metropolis, it was not unoccupied.  Following the outbreak of the Plague, the city was now home to millions of corpses.  As the Plague infested their cells and reanimated them, the corpses found enough life and energy to stand, walk, and prey on every other living thing around them.  The undead citizens roamed the streets restlessly and endlessly; they never spoke, never worked, never slept, never dreamed, and never felt anything beyond hunger.  They’d occasionally gorge on any animals that lingered in the city:  the occasional pigeon, crow, or an escaped zoo animal.  But with living flesh becoming rarer and rarer in the city, the living dead often resorted to attacking and eating each other.
    If they ever caught my scent, they likely would have devoured my flesh long ago.  But ever since the outbreak started, I learned to adapt.  Using Kevlar body armor from a police station, and a rain poncho, I covered myself in the flesh and blood of the dead.  The sheer stench it gave off masked my own scent, while the gore on my suit made me look like one of them.  For the past ten weeks, this allowed me to walk among the zombie hoards without being attacked.
    I went out this way every day to scavenge food, clothes, tools, medicine, and other supplies.  The city had everything one would ever need.  In the beginning weeks of the outbreak, looters and rioters ravaged entire districts, fighting violently to take everything they could carry.  It wasn’t long before the undead hoards overwhelmed them.  Only the shrewdest of looters survived; most either escaped, or like me, adapted and survived in the city.  With only a handful of living people left in the city, entire districts of shopping centers and department stores were left open for me.
    Thirteen weeks since the Plague came to Vancouver, I left my secured hiding place and went into the city one more time.  I hoarded enough food and supplies to last for years, but on this excursion, I needed one more important thing.  With my bloodied suit donned, and its deathly stench emanating all around me, I strode beside the walking corpses.
    They shambled around the streets and through every building without any apparent forethought to their destination or purpose.  I moved through them, careful not to bump into them too roughly, and careful not to appear too fast or too slow.  If I moved uncharacteristically, they would take notice and turn on me.  I’ve had one occasion where I tried to speed-walk down the length of the road in my suit; the zombies weren’t fooled, and a pack of them chased me for several blocks.  I narrowly escaped them by running into a metro station and jumping over the one-way exit turnstiles.
    As time wore on, the undead grew more and more lethargic.  Whatever energy it was that made them frenzied beasts had waned.  After consuming most of the living in the city, they could no longer find sustenance, and were starving.  There were several spots in the streets where, in an almost ritualistic fashion, the zombies selected one of their own to sacrifice.  I averted my gaze from the gruesome sights as packs of the undead knelt over their dead brethren, scooped up handfuls of semi-rotten organs, and gorged themselves.  Blood dribbled from their mouths as they tore and ground the raw meat with their teeth.  No matter how many times I saw such gruesome spectacles, I could never stomach it; sickness and dread settled in the pit of my stomach when I considered that, someday, they might disembowel me with the same savagery.
    Walking slowly, I passed the monsters without drawing their attention.  Beyond was the hospital; it was once a clean building that promoted life, but now it was a ruin that housed more of the dead.  Its windows and doors had been smashed open long ago, either pillaged by looters or ravaged by the zombies.
    Moving toward the building, I walked past the broken doors and proceeded down the corridor.  Every room and hall in this hospital was dilapidated, with debris, old papers, and dried bloodstains ordaining the walls and floors.  Red skeletons littered the reception area, where hoards of zombies attacked the living and picked their bones clean.  After thirteen weeks of decomposition, these bones and the leftover gore around them gave off a putrid stench.
    Past the reception and waiting areas, the hallway looked clear.  I kept alert, listening for any giveaway noises that resident zombies would make.  They were quiet for the most part; the only sound that gave their presence away was their labored breathing, their shuffling feet, or the grotesque sounds of their feasting.
    The hospital was quiet, and I felt free to move in a natural fashion.  I strode down the hall, passing by dozens of empty wards before coming to the doctor’s offices and surgery rooms.  These areas were just as wrecked as the rest of the hospital.  I felt slightly dismayed when I considered that the medicine I was looking for would be long gone.
    What doubt I harbored fuelled my urge to seek out the medicine.  I was rushing down the halls toward the medical storage rooms; my heart was racing in anticipation of finding what I needed.
    When I reached the rooms, I found them locked, but thankfully they weren’t plundered.  Beneath my poncho, I had a hammer strapped to my leg.  Brandishing it, I dug the claw end of it into the door, and pried on it hard.  It took some effort and a lot of patience, but I managed to crack the wooden door around the lock.  Severely weakened, the door swung wide open.
    Inside was a wealth of controlled medicines and substances.  What I needed was one of those simple, important substances that were always available when one needed it, but became a dire necessity when it became unavailable.  I was elated when I saw the antibiotics on the glass shelves.  I grabbed as many of them as I could, and shoved them into a bag.
    Hastily exiting the hospital, I made my way back to my home.  Once I approached the zombie hoard in the middle of the street, I slowed my pace and walked calmly among them.  Having spent the past few hours in my disguise, its effect was wearing thinner and thinner, with all the blood and its stench gradually wearing off.  For a while, the zombies were still oblivious to my presence.  Then, I saw them starting to look at me.  There was no mistaking the sensation of being watched by so many walking corpses; their glazed, unseeing eyes sent chills down my spine.
    One of them lunged at me, his teeth hungrily closing in on my flesh.  I wasted no time; in an instant, I had the hammer in my hands, and I whacked the creature in the face.  The hammerhead crushed his jaw with a loud crack, forming a bloody circle on his flesh.  The impact sent the zombie flailing to the ground, at the feet of other zombies.
    More of them came at me with arms outstretched and mouths agape.  Their throats gave off an eerie chorus of dry groans and gurgles.  Running laterally from them, I cut through a line of zombies and stepped on the sidewalk.  As six zombies stumbled after me, I darted into a narrow alley.
    The small space provided the perfect bottleneck; the multitude of zombies huddled around the alley’s entrance, all struggling against each other to fit through the tight opening.  One pushed past the crowd and closed in on me; I slammed the claw end of the hammer into his face and gouged out his eyeball.  The claw not only left a bloody hole in his head, but also dug into his brain.  With an uncontrollably spasm, the zombie collapsed to the ground.
    What few other zombies came down the alley soon huddled around the fallen corpse and started feasting on it.  They greedily snapped off limbs and dug for the soft tissues beneath the flesh, before taking greedy bites into the skin and muscles.  I left behind the grisly scene, and continued toward my apartment.
    The alley brought me one block closer to my home, but there was still a large pack of the undead between me and the tall building.  As soon as I came out to the street, one ghastly zombie staggered toward me; as one of the older zombies, his flesh was rotting and discolored, with pieces of it peeling away.  When I struck him in the head, his neck was ripped clean off, and the head fell to the concrete.  Blood oozed out of the open neck wound, before the body collapsed in front of me.
    I immediately moved away from the body, before the other zombies grouped around it and devoured it.  One of the creatures was lapping up the blood that came out of the open neck, as if it was a water spout.  While the undead were occupied, I crossed the street and continued down the block.
    Resistance closer to the apartment was substantially abated, thanks to the landmines I had planted all around the block.  I saw that a few of them had gone off since I last laid them; limbs and pieces of bloodied flesh littered the streets, from the last few hapless zombies who stepped on the mines.  I crossed the pavement carefully, being careful not to step on the mines, before approaching the apartment.
    I erected a crude barricade by the apartment door, comprised mostly of a wrecked car and planks of wood; I expertly climbed over the barricade and entered the building.  It was dark and quiet inside, but I felt the safest here.  As I went up the stairs to the penthouse suite, I discarded my rank poncho.
    At the top floor, I used my key and entered the penthouse.  Having spent the past eleven weeks in this place, it was as familiar and comfortable of a home as I ever had.  The rooms were large, spacious, and clean, with polished white and pastel-colored walls and white carpets.  I had weapons and equipment strewn on the kitchen table, but my wife was very meticulous in keeping the floors, the kitchen, and bathrooms clean and tidy.  What few other possessions we had –clothes, food, supplies, books and games to pass the time – were neatly stacked in closets and on shelves.
    Taking off my Kevlar vest, I moved to the bedroom with my bag of supplies.  The bedroom was usually a bright place, with its white and blue walls and its conservative décor.  Now, with the curtains drawn, it was dark and it felt musty.
    On the bed, I beheld my wife.  Her blonde hair was messily sprawled on the sweat-soaked pillow; her face was red and wet, and her cheeks were puffy; her body looked thinner and frailer than when I last saw her.  Whatever sickness she had contracted, she was growing worse by the minute; it was all the more reason why I needed to administer the antibiotics as soon as possible.
    As I read the drugs’ directions and took out the pills, there were flashes of doubt in my mind.  The biggest worry was that antibiotics may not be effective, if this disease was not bacterial in nature.  All the symptoms indicated that it was, but what if I was wrong? Above all, I feared that this may be a variant of the Necrobonic Plague.  What if it mutated, and was no longer a passive disease, but something that actively killed its hosts before bringing it back to life?
    I chose not to waste any more time with doubt or worry.  I counted out the pills, poured some bottled water into a glass, and brought it to my wife.  She weakly lifted her head up, and I slipped the medicine through her dry lips.  Slowly, I brought the water to her mouth and tipped it.  When she swallowed and had enough to drink, I placed the glass on the night table.
    Looking up at me with her blue eyes, my wife spoke with a raspy voice, “It’s almost time.”
    “Oh no it isn’t,” I argued.
    “Yes, I can feel it in me.  I have seen angels in my dreams.  They tell me that my time is coming.  I will die by tonight.”
    I wanted to dismiss all of it was mere delusions and fear, but I could tell from her expression that she believed everything she was saying.  I told her, “Don’t say that.  The antibiotics will help, and you’ll be all better!”
    She lifted up her arm; it shivered weakly in the air.  I held it, while she said, “I wish it could have been different.”
    We both knew that, under different circumstances, our love would have endured.  We would have had children, but since the Plague, we knew that bringing children into this world would have been pure folly.  We wanted to have a family and a happy domestic life, but how could we when the entire world was populated by the undead?
    At this point, we both knew that the Plague was something beyond our control, and we had to adapt.  We also both knew the consequences of death.  If one of us died, the body would be re-animated and turn into one of them.  Through an unspoken pact, we knew that the surviving person would have to permanently lay that person to rest.  Thus, if she died in front of me, I would have to decapitate her; not only would it protect me, but I also knew that she wouldn’t want to become one of them. Even if the roles were reversed, the predicament would have been the same; if I became a zombie, I would expect her to take my head off.
    I suddenly felt frozen, and my muscles seemed to seize up.  Thinking about mutilating my wife’s corpse was an act too unbearable to consider.  I never gave it any credence, because I wanted to believe that we would remain as living survivors for the rest of our lives.  I planned for so many contingencies, but I never prepared myself for this one.
    I desperately didn’t want to go through with this.  My hand tightened around hers, as I told her, “Don’t leave me.  Please, don’t leave me.”
    My wife’s final words escaped her lips, “I’m sorry.  I love you.”
    In the next few moments, she slipped away.  There wasn’t even enough time for the antibiotics to work, assuming they were effective in the first place.  Her last breath escaped her lips, and her body remained rigid and still.  Her eyes stared up unseeing and lifeless.  There was no mistake that she was no longer living.
    The grief came on suddenly and relentlessly.  It made my body quiver and convulse, as a deep sickness welled up in me.  Tears erupted in a series of uncontrollable sobbing spasms.  The sound coming from my mouth was something between a cry and a scream.
    I remained in this state for at least ten minutes, with tears coating my face and sorrow coating my soul.  A myriad of memories washed over my mind, seeming to snuff out the present and bathe me in the past.  There were a few bitter memories, but it was the sweet ones that surfaced and made the pain that much more intense.  I remembered when we first met; an unassuming encounter at a bookstore, followed by a lively chat at a coffee shop.  I remember the many times we talked and laughed, growing closer to the inevitable kisses.  I remember the wedding, and how overcome I was with such a deep adoration and joy.  Even in the days of the Plague, when we planned for our survival and fretted about how we would cope with the living dead, my love for her never abated.
    It was only in my memories of the Plague that I brought myself back to the present.  I was so lost in my happy memories that I didn’t even realize that I was still clenching her hand.  When I let go, it fell limply to the bed with a soft thump.
    What sorrow lingered in my heart was soon pushed out and replaced by a gut-wrenching dread.  It wouldn’t be long before the Plague causes her body to rise up and attack me.  Looking at her soft and pristine face and eyes, I didn’t want to believe that such a beauty could turn unto a ravenous creature.  But my mind prevailed against my heart, and I knew exactly what I had to do.   I had to remind myself that she would never want this fate for either of us; I had to desecrate her remains, so that she would find peace and I could continue living.
    Rising from the bed, I went back into the living room.  We had a set of samurai swords sitting on the floor in the living room; it was a replica that we had plundered from a store just a few weeks ago.  The blades were not intended for real combat, but I had sharpened and reshaped them with my various tools, and they proved to be fairly effective.  Grabbing the top-most katana, I unsheathed it and brandished it in my hand.
    Moving back to the bedroom, I saw that the Plague had already started to make my wife stir.  Her body was upright, breathing softly, with a sickening gasping sound coming from her mouth.  Her head slowly turned; her blue eyes regarded me, but still appeared unseeing and lifeless.
    As she slowly swung her feet off the bed and stood up, I held out my sword and tried to picture myself committing the final deed.  All it would take is one quick and clean swing across her neck, and her head would fly off of the body.  There would be a fountain of blood, before the headless body collapsed.
    Despite that mental image, I still couldn’t picture myself being the one to deliver the final cut.  My hands were quivering, and I couldn’t will them into do anything else.
    My undead wife stepped closer, her mouth agape and drooling.  Another sick sound of gasping air and unintelligible vocal moaning escaped from her mouth.  Her sweaty blonde hair clung to her cheeks, masking half her face.  With each passing second, her eyes seemed to become more glazed and lifeless than they were before.
    She came closer, and I could smell her sweat and her breath, still heavy with medicine.  In just a few more paces, she would be upon me, to gnash at my neck with her teeth and rip out my intestines.  I still couldn’t believe that she would attack me like one of them, but the more I watched her, the more I was certain that it was inevitable.
    With another step, she raised her arms and seemed to lunge at me, her mouth open and ready to bite into my flesh.  In a panic, I fled the bedroom.  As I side-stepped her, she shambled forward and ran herself into the wall.  With her sprawled on the floor, I slammed the door shut.  Taking a key out of my pocket, I frantically locked the door, and locked her in the room alone.
    Moments passed before she stood up again and followed my scent toward the door.  Running into the door, she started banging hard on it with her fists.  Each wooden thud pounded into my heart, as a constant reminder of the task that I had failed to finish, and still needed to fulfill.  All I was doing now was stalling for time.  I needed to open the door back up and finish her off!
    My mind was still filled with doubt.  It would have been far easier for me to leave the penthouse and leave her in that room once and for all, to eventually starve, collapse, and rot.  I was stopped only by how cruel it sounded, and knowing that she wouldn’t want that kind of fate.  She needed to rest in peace, and I couldn’t abandon her.
    And yet, I couldn’t ever bring myself to open the door back up.  As the seconds, minutes, and hours passed, the banging on the door became slower and slower.  She likely would continue pounding at the door until she spent all her energy.
    Eventually, the pounding became too much for me, and I left the penthouse.  In the halls of the apartment complex, it was quiet, and my mind felt freer.  At first, I resolved to accomplish my task and kill her.  I still couldn’t picture myself delivering the blow.
    I wandered to the apartment building’s courtyard, just behind the barricade.  As soon as I felt the cool air on my skin, my scent drifted to the nearby city blocks, and the zombies in the street started to gather around the barricade.  I could hear their anguished moans and gargles amidst the pounding and slapping of their hands against the barrier.
    Those noises, and the sight of so many ghastly corpses flinging their bodies against the barricade, should have reminded me of what my wife really was then.  I should have known that she would become no different than one of them, and needed to be slain.
    Instead, I had a new idea in mind.  It was a horrible idea that manifested as a bittersweet ray of hope in my mind.  I think I knew then that I was merely stalling for more time, but I was desperate for an alternate solution.  I wanted anything except to kill my own wife.
    So, I reached over the barricade and stabbed one of the zombies in the chest.  With his heart punctured, the creature shuddered and eventually became limp.  With the dead body in their midst, the surrounding zombies started to claw and grasp it with their hands.  I grabbed the dead zombie’s hands and pulled his body over the barrier.  With all the other zombies holding onto the legs, I had to struggle against them.  As they bit into the flesh and tore away the creature’s muscles, the entire top torso became free, and I staggered backwards with it.  A mess of entrails and blood splattered at my feet, as I still held on to the zombie’s upper body.
    Carrying the rank torso up to the penthouse, I brought it back to the bedroom for my wife.  When I opened the door, she came out at me with ravenous teeth and vicious hands reaching for me.  I flung the torso between us, nearly knocking her over with it.  As the zombie’s blood splashed on her nightgown, she caught the scent of the rotting corpse, and accepted my offering.  Kneeling down at the body, she dug her face into its open stomach, smearing it with blood.  She had the corpse’s raw kidneys in her mouth, and she bit into them as if they were nothing more than cakes.
    It was a disgusting sight to watch my wife devour the torso, but at the same time, I had a morbid fascination with it.  It was incredible to see the transformation:  just days ago, she was beautiful, full of life and energy, and loving.  It was an odd and disconcerting experience to see that same gorgeous woman gorging herself in flesh and blood, reduced to a mere cannibalistic monstrosity.
    It took her all night to finish off the zombie’s torso; she ate the creature down to the bone.  I locked myself in the bedroom while she peeled off the corpse’s head and finished off the last of the brains.  When she was done, she started pounding at the door, directing her hunger at me.  The pounding continued through the night; it was difficult, but I managed to fall asleep on the bed.
    The next morning, the pounding still continued, albeit slowly and irregularly.  Opening the door, I beheld my wife, now twelve hours dead.  Her hands were bloodied and raw from bashing them against the door for so long.  Her face and skin was all pale, with splotches of gray dark spots and sores all over.  Blood from her last meal still covered her face and gown.  It wouldn’t be long before she looked like every other zombie in the street.
    She lunged at me with a raspy roar escaping her lips.  Side-stepping her, I let her stumble into the opposite wall, before slipping out the door and locking her in.  While she pounded at the door, I left and sought out another body for her to consume.  It was easy enough for me to grab one, or at least half, of a body from the hoard of zombies that congregated in the street.  Dragging the corpse to the penthouse was a chore, but once there, I would leave it out for her.  When I opened the bedroom door, she would come out and immediately burrow her face into the corpse’s flesh and organs.
    While she devoured the corpse, I would take the time to tend to other matters.  I donned my vest, gear, and poncho, to venture into the city and scavenge for more supplies and food.  She would still be picking at the corpse when I returned, leaving me free to cook for myself and plan my next course of action.
    Things continued like this for seven days.  Each day, I staved off the inevitable by feeding her.  Each day, I awoke to hear her pounding at the door, as if demanding to be fed.  Each pounding was a dire reminder of the task I had failed to do, and the never-ending torment I wound up subjecting myself to.
    My wife’s appearance became worse and worse, with even more sores and discolorations spotting her body.  Her nightgown was once white, but was now painted all in red, from all the blood from all the corpses she had consumed.  Her lips were chapped and covered in sores.  Her hair was dirty, bloodied, and tangled.  The only thing that remained the same was her eyes; they still maintained their brilliant blue color, but remained unseeing.
    With each passing day, I knew that my wife’s true spirit was floating around, likely looking down on me with contempt.  I knew that I had failed her, and I needed to end this living death quickly, if her soul is to ever find rest.
    I eventually grew to question myself.  What the Hell was I doing? By staving off the inevitable, I had turned myself into the slave of a zombie wife.  She wasn’t even my real wife.  All I was doing was clinging to a skin-deep shell of a wife, not wanting to let go of her memories.  I didn’t realize until it was too late that she was long gone, and the shell needed to be gone too.  I needed to make the killing blow and move on, rather than linger with the mere shadow of my beloved.
    After spending a day on the apartment rooftops, thinking things over, I went back to the penthouse to confront my wife once and for all.  I found her with a photo of me in her hands.  Not realizing that it was just a picture, she had stuffed it into her mouth.  Pieces of the picture’s wood frame and glass had cracked in her mouth, impaling her cheeks and tongue.  Blood dribbled from her lips, but she seemed oblivious to the fragments in her jaws.
    Turning to face me, she walked slowly.  Holding up the samurai sword, I waited until she was closer.  I took in deep breaths, preparing my nerves to take the swing.  My hands were calmer and steadier than they were before.  My heart was empty of any grief or sorrow, not like the day when she turned.  I felt I was ready to finally do this.
    When she staggered toward me, I swung hard and fast, with the speed and ferocity of a bee’s sting.  As I always pictured it, the blade cut through her neck cleanly, and her head parted from the body.  As it bounced on the floor, blood gushed out of the neck and coated her body.  The headless corpse collapsed, splashing a streak of red against the light-colored wallpaper.
    Later, I carried my wife’s body and head to the courtyard, and tossed them to the street beyond.  Turning away, I could hear the dry, raspy voices of the zombies as they converged and devoured the corpse.  Perhaps it was not the most respectable funeral I could give, but the zombies never wasted anything.  They picked her bones clean, leaving nothing behind.  She was gone forever.
    After thorough cleaning and sterilizing, I made the penthouse livable again.  Without my wife, it was never the same, and I always found myself stung by the happy memories and the bitterness of how poorly I handed her death.  Even though I’ll always love her, I finally accepted that she was gone, and she had found peace.  It was time for me to move on without her.
    Packing all my gear and food, I set out to find a new place to hole up and continue living.

Copyright 2012, all rights reserved

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