/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.2677201]

Alright, fellows. I'm writing a book mostly as a joke, but I still want to do it legitimately. The book is going to be in the same style as that Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter book, except not as goofy and hopefully better.
I have a friend who loves Nixon more than anybody else in the world, so I'm writing for him:
Richard Nixon Zombie Slayer
And I just finished the prologue. Thoughts?
Text will follow.

[Anonymous No.2677202]

>>2677201
Lightning flashed across the sky as James made his way around the museum grounds. He hoped that the rain wouldn't come until his watch was over, but by the way the clouds were looking, he was doubtful. As he rounded the museum's wall, the small cottage came into view. He always liked this part of his walk, because the house was warm and homely, and it helped ease his fears of the night. He walked up the pathway and went around the side, to where the graves are located. He sat down on the ground in between the two tombstones and decided to have a quick rest. While he was there, he read the grave on his left, the more important of the two, if he were to be honest.

[Anonymous No.2677204]

>>2677202
Underneath the name, it read “even when people can't speak your language, they can tell if you have love in your heart.” He liked that quote. Although, he didn't really understand the relevance of it on this particular grave, as Richard Nixon wasn't necessarily known to be a loving man. As he smiled at his personal joke, he started to hear a soft, rasping sound. Perplexed, he stood up and looked around with his flashlight, but saw nothing. He became a little worried, and his old fears of the dark came creeping up again. He started walking back down the path, and as he did, the noise became softer and softer. Confused, he walked back over to the graves, and it grew louder again. To further test his theory, he walked back away from them, and the noise lessened in volume again.
(this is italicized)It must just be an animal in the bushes(end italics), he thought.

[Anonymous No.2677206]

>>2677204
Slightly relieved, he let out a little sigh, just as he noticed a disturbance in the dirt of the grave. He became a bit angry about that, because if an animal dug into the President's grave on his watch, he'd get an ear-full from the boss. He began to walk back over to fix the problem, when he noticed that a large hole was forming on the grave site. He stopped, wondering what kind of animal could have done that in such a short amount of time, just as he saw something coming out of the hole. He shined the light on it, but quickly dropped it as he recognized what was thrusting forth from the hole. A thousand thoughts began racing through his head at once.
(italics)That can't be. It just can't be. Could it be a grave-robber? No.. Then, what?(/italics)

[Anonymous No.2677208]

>>2677206
He shook his head to clear it, then knelt down to retrieve his flashlight. Then, a sound of dirt displacement tore through the eerie silence of the night, and the grave began to cave in. Almost too afraid to do so, he shined the light back over onto the grave, then fell over and crawled backwards away from the grave.
There, right before his eyes, was the body of ex-President Richard Nixon, rising from his own grave. James almost threw up and passed out at the same time, and failed to do both. He dropped his flashlight and kicked further away from the unbelievable scene unfolding before his eyes. The ex-dead, ex-President drew himself up to his full height, and stood still for a few moments that seemed like lifetimes to the frozen James. President Nixon brushed some dirt off of his torn and tattered suit and looked around him. His gaze lingered on his wife's grave for a moment, and then continued on down the path until it fell upon James. James felt his blood run cold, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a few beats.

[Anonymous No.2677211]

>>2677208
Nixon took a few, shambling steps towards him as James tried to crawl away, but was kept rooted to the spot by his fear. As Nixon drew closer, James was overcome with an unbearable stench of rotting flesh, and came close to passing out. When they were only a few feet apart, President Nixon reached out his arm and grabbed James' shirt. As he tightened his grip, James could feel his lungs tightening in his chest. Nixon lifted him up off the ground, until his feet were just barely touching the ground. He reached out his other arm, and seemed to steady James on the ground before releasing him. James, now confused past the point he ever thought possible, tried to step away from the President, but found himself locked in place by an impossibly strong grip from Nixon's steely, cold fingers. Nixon looked into James' eyes, and opened his mouth. James stared into that gaping hole, seeing impending doom loom over his soul, and would have collapsed right then if the President hadn't been keeping him firmly in place. The President worked his jaw, as if for the first time, and James closed his eyes in preparation.

[Anonymous No.2677212]

>>2677211
A soft, almost guttural noise reached his ears, and, as he re-opened his eyes, he saw something even stranger than the last few minutes. It almost looked as if President Nixon was trying to (italics)speak(/italics). Just as he forced that insane thought from his mind, he was proven correct. The President was actually speaking. In his shock, he didn't even hear what he had said, and it must have shown on his face because the President then repeated himself.
“What's going on here? Who are you? How did I get here?”
James opened his mouth and floundered for words, unable to grasp the insanity of the situation he was in. When he finally found his tongue, it took him another few moments to pluck up the courage to actually use it.

[Anonymous No.2677213]

>>2677212
“Uh, sir, I, uh. Well, Mr. President, sir, you.. This is.. Sir, you're.. You're dead, Mr. President, sir. It's been 14 years since your death, sir. This is, well, this museum was dedicated to you, and, uh, you and your wife were buried here.”
Even dead, the confusion was evident in the President's eyes. He paused for a moment, and then looked back at his wife's grave, then at his own, and finally down at his body and arms. When he looked back up at James, the confusion was gone, and what appeared to be determination had taken its place. When he spoke again, his voice was more confident, and his grip on James' arm lessened some.
“14 years since my death? What year is it, then? How am I speaking to you if I'm dead? Did you do this? What did you do to me?”
As he asked that last question, his grip tightened, almost painfully.

[Anonymous No.2677214]

>>2677213
“No, no, sir, I, I don't know any more about it than you do. I'm just a guard here at the museum, sir. It's, uh, sir, it's 2008.”
Nixon's eyes widened a little bit, and he let go of James' arm. He took a step back and looked off into the distance. When he looked back at James, he put his hand back on his arm, not in a grip, but in an almost friendly grab.
“You'd better get back to your guard duty, son. I've got a few things that I need to figure out.”
With that, he let go of James' arm, and walked off. James watched him go until he was lost to the night. James stood there for a few minutes, trying to convince himself that that whole situation hadn't really happened, and, failing to do that, picked up his flashlight and headed back to the office. He knew he had to tell somebody about what just happened, but he didn't know who to tell, or even how to tell them.
/prologue

[Anonymous No.2677215]

OP, STOP. Upload to one of the hundreds of text sites like:

http://justpaste.it/

and post the link.

[Anonymous No.2677217]

>>2677215
I couldn't remember any of them before. Thanks.
http://justpaste.it/10th