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About Literature / Hobbyist Julia R.Y.24/Female/United States Group :iconartofthesea: ArtoftheSea
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Cyto's Story :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 1 5
Literature
Cave
Short story.
        Susie gazed up at the beautiful woods around her, in every direction evergreens reached for the sky; shading her and a pink corvette from the blazing morning sun. She let out a relaxed sigh as she leaned back on the trunk of the car.
“Tony! You almost done over there?” she called out at the woods.
The familiar sound of a zipper reached her ears as her boyfriend walked out from behind a nearby tree.
“Yeah, yeah I’m done,” he said as he adjusted his jeans and strolled back to the car.
Susie eyed him; she was unsure why he’d insisted on them driving up to the woods today. They hadn’t been dating for long and she still felt like he was a stranger. His curly head of short blond hair and light brown eyes still unfamiliar on his tanned Italian skin. She felt anxious at being alone with him in the woods.   Her relaxation slipping away, she tapped her painted finger nails on the trunk of the c
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Literature
Power Out
Short Story.
        My eyes winked wildly as they tried to adjust to the darkness surrounding me, but the inky blackness did not clear away. All there was to see was darkness, and that sound, that horrible gut wrenching sound. Screams from men and women were filtering through my walls and into my now awake ears. Why were people screaming? Why is it so dark? Did the power go out? Is that why people are screaming? These thoughts rushed through my mind as I outstretched my hand into the darkness. I found nothing to assist me in lighting my room. Grimacing, I got out of bed and quickly walked to my bedroom window. The sight outside was bleak and bloody, and full of screaming running people. The street lights were out but the full moon above was enough to light what was happening. People were running from other people, bloody, crazy looking people. My hand covered my mouth in horror as I watched a young man get tackled to the ground by an elderly woman. S
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Literature
Sand and Gloves
    Short story.
    Pulling the gloves up over my fingers, I snapped the plastic above my wrists so they fit snuggly. The dust inside the gloves clung to my sweaty hands, causing me to flex my fingers repeatedly. My entire body felt sticky with sweat and I wiped away the beads currently rolling down my forehead. As I bent down onto my knees I held my breath, preventing the noxious fumes coming up from the floor to enter my lungs. Grabbing the large sponge I had resting on the counter above me, I began spreading the chemical liquid out across the floor. The sting of bleach made my eyes water and I held in the urge to wipe at my eyes. Instead, I continued to work at the stain that was coating the linoleum floor I knelt on.
      I thought about everything I’d just done. The body of the man I’d just killed lay on a poka-dotted shower curtain behind me. Taunting me with his still open eyes. They were glazed over, the wrinkles on his face
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:iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 5 2
Literature
Remaining chapters of The Human Plague.
Hi there!!! For copyright and publishing reasons the remaining chapters of this story will be posted to Wattpad.com
Chapter Seventeen- http://www.wattpad.com/88713218-the-human-plague-chapter-seventeen
Chapter Seventeen continued- http://www.wattpad.com/90736702-the-human-plague-chapter-seventeen-continued
Chapter Eight-teen- http://www.wattpad.com/92710877-the-human-plague-chapter-eight-teen
Chapter Nineteen- http://www.wattpad.com/94589670-the-human-plague-chapter-nineteen
Chapter Twenty- http://www.wattpad.com/98155468-the-human-plague-chapter-twenty
Final Chapter- http://www.wattpad.com/101805506-the-human-plague-chapter-twenty-one
Author's Note-http://www.wattpad.com/101806705-the-human-plague-author%27s-note
Sorry if this is an inconvenience to you to use the other site. Honestly, the other site is pretty good.
Hope you enjoy the remaining chapters and have enjoyed this story! It has been great to write and is my first ever full length book, which so
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:iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 1 0
Literature
The Warm Plague. Book Two. Chapter Two.
 Jack. Sugar
Chapter two part one
 
                I turned away from Daisy and adjusted my coat; I could feel the slight heat of spring. I looked at the gravel road leading down the hill to the two other houses down from ours. We had found the house by chance it was the biggest of the three on the hill and it is well isolated from the main road. We hadn't yet gotten the chance to search the other houses or any of the local businesses on the main road. Finally hearing Daisy now rustling through the supplies in the shed I moved down the hill to the nearest house. My boots crunched as I walked down the gravel road, the wind was rustling the evergreens; the sound was nice. I looked at the parking area next to the house there were three cars, one SUV and two older Ford Taurus's. I walked up next to the SUV and tried the door, locked. I went and tried all the doors of the cars; also locked. 
"Jus
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The Human Plague Comic. Issue 1 by WARMZOMBIE The Human Plague Comic. Issue 1 :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 0 0
Literature
Subby and Fin's Adventure!
Subby and Fin’s Adventure!
                                                                                                                
    Subby scans the store front from her safe vantage point behind an old car. Her blue eyes flick from the faded food posters to the shopping carts that lay scattered in front of the stores still open sliding doors. She feels a pleased grin part her lips.
“No infected in
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My collection by WARMZOMBIE My collection :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 1 1 Cast of The Human Plague by WARMZOMBIE Cast of The Human Plague :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 0 5
Literature
The Human Plague Ch1
                                                        
Chapter One          
     
       
    I inhaled in a deep breath of clean cold air; the scent of pine filled my nostrils. The woods below me were old and undisturbed, one of the few truly untouched forests in America. It looked like a blanket of green, red, and yellow, all spread out far past the horizon.
 “The human race is a plague, don’t ya’ agree?” Karen asked.
I looked over my shoulder and raised my eyebrows questioningly at her, “Well, considering most humans now are infected with a plague, that’s kind of a trick question,” I replied, moving back from the cliff and leaning against the hoo
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Profile picture. by WARMZOMBIE Profile picture. :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 2 5
Literature
Average Joe
     My coffee, now cold, sat in front of me untouched. I knew the woman at the counter had given me the wrong order, but I had smiled and handed her my money anyway. The staff here always got my order wrong, yet I continued to come here, time after time. Expecting that maybe, just maybe, they’d actually start to pay attention and stop giving me regular coffee when I ordered decaf. Perhaps my outfit of torn jeans and black t-shirt didn’t meet their high standards of customer wear; maybe if I’d worn a fancy suit they’d give a crap what they handed me.  I sighed and stirred the coffee with a plastic mixing straw, soft music was coming from the overhead speakers; that amplified my now sour mood. The coffee shop was empty except for a few stragglers waiting to get their morning pick-me-up; a pretty blond in a business suit near the back of the line caught my eye. She was reading over the newspaper in her hand, she glanced over at me and our
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Zoko layout by WARMZOMBIE Zoko layout :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 2 1
Literature
Beast Below
    I was blind, blind to the fate that would inevitably find me. The beast that sniffed me out was hot on my trail, but still I ran. Fighting for every second of earthly air I was able to breath into my straining lungs. Nature greeted me as I ran through it, the trail was soft on my bare feet and the trees above provided shade against the blazing sun, but nature also hid my death. Hiding the things that could lurk in the shade and soft grass. Where had I gone wrong? Had I chosen the wrong path or was my time just up? Either way I felt I did not deserve this. To be chased as prey by a beast that had no name, no form except that of children’s nightmares.  I’d caught a glimpse of it, a single second of seeing its quivering dead flesh. But that was all I needed to see to know what lurked in the distance, to know I wasn’t alone in these old woods. My feet ached and my legs felt like they were covered in burning coals, I couldn’t remember how long I
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Zoko in a tree by WARMZOMBIE Zoko in a tree :iconwarmzombie:WARMZOMBIE 0 3

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Julia R.Y.
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
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Hello Ladies and Gentlemen!

FREE flying hearts Icon by DreamON-MpakWelcome to my page!
FREE flying hearts Icon by DreamON-Mpak

I have been writing seriously now for about two years. I always enjoyed writing as a child and teenager but was never able to finish any stories I set out on.

But now I am doing my best to work to finish my ideas.

The first being The Warm Plague, a zombie survival story following two groups in NYC and New York state and a side story.
The second is another zombie book, The Human Plague. It takes place in the same world as The Warm Plague, but is a few months deeper into the apocalyptic world and takes place in Maine. It follows a twenty two year old named Violet, as she survives the dangers of the infected - and humans.
I am still learning about grammar, and formatting. So I know my writings aren't perfect but I focus on making a good story. In my mind a good story is the focus, I can always go back and edit the formatting.
If you enjoy my work please leave a Fav or comment <3
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P.S. If you want to join an amazing group that aims to be a friendly community of artists go visit.
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            The sound of garbled unfocused music pierces Cyto’s ears. Her hand reaches up before her eyes can even open, her finger finds the small button on the radio and presses it off. Her eyes open, slowly, the morning light cruel and unforgiving. She looks over at her phone and reads the time, she’s overslept.

            “Fuck….” She groans, pulling herself out of bed, the cold air rolls across her body.

            Shivering, she quickly walks over to her desk and pulls on a pair of leggings and shorts. The material still cold but provides a small bit of comfort to her body. She continues to pull on the rest of the items she’d picked out the night before. A black tank top with the words ‘wild gypsy’ written on it, a thin scarf, a black string necklace with a circle of pewter hanging from it; an abstract phoenix carved into the gleaming metal. Ignoring the clearly cold temperature Cyto slips into her sandals and pulls on a thin jacket. Slinging her backpacks carelessly over her shoulders, she begins the treacherous journey down her wooden steps to the kitchen. The stairs had claimed its fair amount of blood from her over the years, making Cyto forever weary of each of its steps.

           After a quick stop to the bathroom Cyto felt refreshed, hair looking somewhat less rat nest like, and teeth feeling clean and minty. An aggravating few minutes of applying eyeliner later, Cyto felt ready for the day. Checking her phone, she grimaced, only a few minutes until the bus would arrive. Running as fast as she could in the sandals, she picked up her favorite Garfield mug. It contained the cold mixture of green tea her grandmother had sweetly prepared before heading to work hours earlier. Chugging down the less than delicious mixture, she stands in the front doorway, eyes and ears trying to find the first hints of the bus. It was running late as always, huffing an annoyed breath she looks down at the teabag floating in the remaining tinted water. At the end of the string clung a small note written in clear typed letters, “The soul remains beautiful forever,” she read, before her mental voice added in, “I sure hope so”. The morning light was brightening up her pale skin, making every cause unknown scratch and cause definitely known hint of red clearly visible. Another huff of breath escaped her lips. But before she could slip too far into the YouTube comment section of her own mind, the bus honked outside. Slamming the door shut behind her, she jumped onto the porch, pausing and jiggling the door knob behind her. Along with whispering a breakfast item at realizing the door was in fact closed tight, it would bother her all day if she didn’t remember making sure it was locked. The bus honked again and she scurried forward, wrestling with the many straps of her bags as she stepped onto the bus and handed the driver the two dollars and twenty five cents. Technically, she was only supposed to pay two dollars and fifteen cents, but she never had exact change. Saying a quick morning greeting, she hurries to the back of the bus, flinging her bags onto the seat next to her and buckling in.

        Two hours quickly passed, the only comfort at hoping to arrive on time to class the knowledge that it wouldn’t start for another hour. She had headphones on, the big bulky looking ones that were supposed to cover your ears. She always worried they looked a bit silly pulled over her bandana and sunglasses, but she continued to fail at getting those tiny ear buds to stick into her, well, lack of ears. To be exact she still had one ear, sort of, it had the floppy top part… more or less, though none of the bottom part. She pulled her bandana over the remnants self-consciously. She was a bundle of these finicky little movements; always adjusting her bracelets to cover the red circles separating her hands from her arms.  Or making sure her leggings covered the similar markings on her ankles. She wasn’t ashamed, but she felt more at ease when these things were covered, like these markings were the only things that made her stand out from the perfectly complexioned humans around her. But she knew better than that, yet she still went to these lengths. Occasionally, she would even draw on eyebrows or add color to her lips (with often the wrong shade of lipstick). Cyto felt beautiful as she looked into her familiar bathroom mirror, the lines upon her face smoothing away. But as soon as she stepped outside and the first smooth skinned human looked at her, a grip squeezed at her heart. She convinced herself she didn’t care.  She knew she was beautiful even if she saw the opposite verdict in other people’s eyes. Too many times had people let their words slip. Adding the forever unnecessary, “You’re beautiful because you are the way God made you” or “You’ve got a nice body all considering”. But God hadn’t made her this way; this was her own doing, a moment’s bad choice. She’d come to terms with her own wrong doing years ago, yet people still had a way of bringing it up. Smooth skins, smoothies, normies; the kind of people who grimace upon seeing the scars on their skin, instead of relishing in the fact that they still have skin.

        She laughed at these interactions, doing her best to be amused by it. And it was amusing; the one thing no fire could burn away was her sense of humor. Forever fed by the fucked-up-ness logs she threw into the mix. Perhaps her sick sense of humor had saved her from insanity and self-loathing, or possibly more likely the humor was a symptom of her insanity. She barely knew anyone that was perfectly sane. Everyone had scars, hers just happen to be on the outside for all to see.

        The bus pulled to a stop outside the campus and Cyto soaked in the image of all the smoothies walking to class. She remembered her first semester here, when she’d walked proudly through the large building with no hat to cover her ever so slightly bald head, or jacket to cover her scarred shoulders. She wished she could remember what that confidence had felt like, or what had stolen it away. One moment’s slip of the tongue had certainly helped dash it. “Oh, Cyto, you are so easy to find when sitting down. I just look for the shine of light upon your head.” It wasn’t worded exactly like that, but it had no less done damage.

         She gave a thank you to the driver then stepped into the school, it wasn’t the biggest college in the area, but on the bright side it was one of the cheapest. So off to class she hurried, and to her favorite, math. That was sarcasm, there wasn’t much more she hated than math. She had often joked inside her own head that learning how to walk and feed herself was easier than math. In fact the process of recovering entirely seemed a quick moment compared to studying for a test; though she accounted that to her own damaged memory. She had forgotten so much of the pain involved in her recovery, but that made it easier to look back upon. A flash of memory to the time she’d walked a full hundred feet before finally getting to leave the hospital, her skin had felt so tight back then, like every movement would split her healing flesh open. They’d made her hold onto a walker, she remembers that now. Oh how she must had looked. Head bandaged, skin still raw and pink, those blue gowns her only clothing. At the mercy of all those around her. She recalled begging for it to end, or had those screams been only in her head? Unable to pass the tubes in her throat. She could not remember her reaction the first time she had seen her new face. So much different from how she looked now. How had she reacted? Could she even cry at the time? Months had passed so quickly, she could remember the delusional dreams better than the real memories. Which was the first dream? Being stuck in a full body cast in church, unable to move, she could hear voices; her family reading to her in the real world. Or was the first dream the one where she was stuck in a glass tube, crying out to her father to rescue her. Or the children, asking her to join them, convincing her that what she was seeing was real when she knew it wasn't. 
        Some things she could remember. The nurses changing her bandages, the agonizing moment when they'd roll her onto her side so they could fold up the now bloody sheets beneath her. That had been the part of her day she'd most resent, the few seconds it took for them to roll her over the bundle of cloth back onto the clean sheets. She recalls praying out to something, anything, to ease the pain. There had been a vibrating bed, jiggling her about in her bandaged state so she wouldn't catch pneumonia, she recalls laughing at that. And many more memories too embarrassing or painful to share.  
        Now here she stood, no walker, no tubes, and no pain. This was her reality now and she was happy to accept that to the best of her ability. Heaven and Hell did not have olives or salami in stock, so here she would stay. 

October 4, 2016

Cyto's Story
Well that's one way to tell a story.
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:iconmidnight-synesthesia:
Midnight-Synesthesia Featured By Owner May 3, 2017
I hope you are doing okay, I finally have a chance to go back in the writing thing.  Been a long 5-6 months of no computer but I've moved away from Micro$oft.
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:iconseventwelve:
SevenTwelve Featured By Owner Sep 8, 2016
:pumpkinla: 
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:iconthesamuraiwarrior:
TheSamuraiWarrior Featured By Owner Jul 3, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! :hug::party::iconsuperheroglompplz:
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(1 Reply)
:iconthenaughtyfish:
TheNaughtyFish Featured By Owner Jul 3, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday honey :huggle: It's me, Fishy. <3
I hope you're doing alright, we all miss you. :rose:
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(1 Reply)
:iconmegafancy:
MegaFancy Featured By Owner Mar 11, 2016   General Artist
When will you invigorate the Nakizen Vine you fiend! Why!! WHYY!!!!
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