Mining Flesh *** (Gore)

This is the Prologue to a Zombie Horror/Fantasy Story

Should work at captivating + doing a bit of introductory work for the reader.

This scene could potentially re-play itself again later on, obviously with all the "Missing Information" filled in if read from the beginning. 

I roughly know the plot but have not actually written anything as of now. Let me know what you think so far :)

Enjoy! 

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‘Shut the door! You’re letting it all out!’

I kicked the door with the back of my boot. It banged shut with a thud and a rattle as all the metal in the room reverberated with the impact. Greg pursed his lips, his blood-shot eyes sending me a look of “Keep it the fuck down”, but I couldn’t care less. For one, I was no secret agent. And if I was to get chucked behind bars for it, I doubt whatever they'd have in store for me could outweigh what I’d already signed myself up for. What with the mine explosion and the run in with the Chilean police, soggy bread and mouldy cheese no longer sounded as such a bad option.  I mean there was a dead body, godammit. What the hell, a dead body we were going to steal. The Feds could sod off, there was no going back.

I turned to the furnace. Swirling the gooey liquid around with my iron rod, I blinked away the heat. I was here to do my job, end of. I didn’t even care what it took; I just wanted it to be over. The brands sizzled as I raised them out, and replaced them in the pail. When did everything start to seem so inane? I couldn’t quite place it. Just in one moment, I misplaced something, mainly my pride, possibly somewhere in the middle of the road, scavangaed, and taken apart. I shuddered at part of the thought, but these days, not like that even mattered. I could smell Greg’s sweat. There was a patch of it gathering at the small of his back, as we bent over the blazing coals, illuminating the otherwise entirely dark room. They were also steadily heating it up. I struggled for breath, but this is what Greg wanted. These were the desirable conditions.

‘Have you got the shears?’

Shit. No, I didn’t. The entire evening, my mind had been on getting the car safely round the back, and I’d completely forgotten about everything else, shears included. I shook my head, looking intently into the fire, avoiding Greg’s gaze, which I could now feel red-hot on my forehead. Or perhaps that was from the coals. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him run a hand through his tangled, drenched hair and mop his face with the back of a sweltering palm. He looked exhausted. I hardly even recognized him. He looked away, and resumed twisting the rods. “So, what the hell do you suggest we do now?” He said, and spat in the coals. ‘Drive back?” He laughed as they hissed, “Or pry the casket open with our teeth?”

I winced. The fact that there was more truth than humor in the suggestion was bad enough. I nudged a stray lump of coal away from the edge.

‘Fucking hell Sarah’  

‘What then?’ I said. ‘I mean… “My mind drew a blank. What were we going to do? “The garage is 4 hours from here. And so is probably the nearest pit-stop, or department store, or anything really,’

‘Oh hey thanks Sherlock,’ and he put down his brands. He hailed himself over the bar gate, to the stairs below, and began to descend down deeper into the room.

‘Greg?’ I muttered anxiously. ‘Greg? Wait, Greg; look I’m sorry I forgot, Greg, where are you going?’ I gazed downwards. I could just make out his bobbing head, and hear his footsteps clanking as he went down the metal steps. ‘The light doesn’t reach that far down!’ My voice echoed. “Greg! Wait!’ But then I hit metal. 

Cold floor against my pulsating cheek, and rust at the back of my throat, I felt a sharp pain at the back of my skull, and a force from above as my face felt a ridge in the steel.

"Taste blood," came a heavy chuckle.

Whoever it was, knew. My old wound. Rammed into the crest, it sliced right through the gash and ripped the crust clean off, revealing the flesh below. It flopped out like a salmon fillet. The room echoed with the crack of a withdrawn brand. I squeezed my tears shut, and clawed in agony at the callused surface.

I was gone.

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Footnote: [ Inspiration for setting is pretty damn creepy ]

http://www.fromteetogreen.com/images/foundry_photos/furnace_room.jpg

+ Enjoy this lovely article :D

http://voices.yahoo.com/chilean-miner-rescue-turns-into-horror-6966014.html?cat=70

Anyway, thanks for reading!