Space Zombies! Prologue

Space Zombies! Prologue

For the next few months, I’m giving you the first parts from each of my books in the “Trilogy of Horrifically Half-baked Ham” … starting with, let’s say, the pinky finger from my novelette movie adaptation, Space Zombies! … The Prologue.

You’ll get the whole hand, better known as Chapter 1, in late April. Expect the big toe from They Suck in May (Chapter 1), followed by a little piece of the bum from Horror at Terror Creek (yes, that would be Chapter 1) in June.

Enjoy your bits of Frankenfiction!


Good evening ladies and gentle readers. I am your narrator, and I am writing this prologue for the purpose of introducing you to the insane and unfortunate events that took place not too long ago, in a place not too far away from where you are now…if where you are now happens to be somewhere near Ontario, Canada, because this story takes place in Toronto.

Let me offer you the perspectives of various mad individuals, of damsels and felines in distress, of aliens both living and dead. Allow me into your mind as you visualize Toronto circa 2004, Christmas, and the twelve months that followed.

Have you ever wondered what the recipe for madness is? I know from experience, and this story, that even the sanest man, the kindest individual, will go mad once in a while. But what drives a man to madness? What is the recipe for insane craziness? In the case of veterinarian Dr. Vic McNaughton, something struck deep at his heart and at his home and sent him careening over the edge.

What you are about to read are the circumstances by which this one man was driven horribly, horribly, and almost irrevocably insane. Also, there are Zombies. Zombies from space!

Picture, if you will, a normal cat clinic by day. The customers would come in and out, and cats got their surgeries and medicines. The people who worked there were unsuspecting, normal people with houses and cars. Nothing strange had ever happened to them.

There was Betsy, the secretary, who dreamt of Dr. Vic McNaughton. She longed for him like a delicate flower longs for sustaining sunlight. In her mind she prayed that he would deliver her from the drab, dusky darkness of her own sad day-to-day life…hoped he would transport her…hoped he would transform her. Apparently, sometimes you do need a man to complete you.

But Dr. Vic had come to rely on his mundanity—he did not long for change. He treasured his routine as though it was a pile of gold that could buy him the world, and at that moment his world did not include Betsy’s love. Oh, he was not cruel, just ignorant of her burgeoning feelings. In general, he was not much aware of emotions beyond his feelings for felines, especially his own cat, Ju-Jube.

Mrs. Smith and her cat, Rinny-Tin-Tinny were frequent clients. She could be found at the clinic quite often, as she would forget when she was supposed to bring Rinny-Tin in, and therefore stopped by several times a week. She had always been absent-minded, but Betsy had pointed out to Vic that Mrs. Smith seemed even more vacant than usual. Vic nodded and added that his best friend, Nick, who used to work at the cemetery next to his home, had fallen victim to a similar malady. He was merely a vegetable now.

Meanwhile, onlookers observed an Unidentified Flying Pie-Plate-Type Craft in the skies above Yonge-Dundas Square being chased by two other UFPPTCs. Are these terrible omens flying in the sky? they wondered. Are they the cause, or a warning about the Zombie-like malady that has struck a smattering of Torontonians? The frightened humans watched helplessly as the silver saucers blasted each other with fiery balls of ethereal flame. The two pursuing ships were exploded by the ship they were chasing. They disintegrated and dissipated into the clouds as the last ship zipped off towards the horizon.

And now you should be up to speed. Let me turn you over to the perspectives of the various characters. Go ahead, tell yourself it’s just a story. Comfort yourself if you must, but remember, Toronto is real, so why shouldn’t these events be real? Hmmm? Take that thought with you to bed.

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