Bad Karma

The church bell rang in the distance as the old cabin did what it always did, collect dust and start to smell worse. The constant eerie BONG in the distance really did help set the mood for this run down shack in the woods. Surrounded by trees from the nearby forest and dirt this relic of a building stood vast in the outskirts of the nearby town west of the shack. Only one person calls this run down cabin in the woods home, Moe.


Moe came up from the stairs on the front porch slamming the front door open as he struggled to keep his grip on his newest play toy, Martha. Martha's constant screams of agony and fear echoed throughout the woods but no one could hear her cries for help. He threw Martha down on the floor perfectly centered on his red carpet; the church bell went off as Martha struggled to take in what had just happened. Moe reached over and grabbed his two handed axe used to cut down trees, but used it in this case to sever Martha's stomach. In a violent Hollywood movie Martha would have been cut in half, but in reality her stomach had been cut open to the point where her entrails caught hold of Moe's axe and were pulled out of her body when Moe released the axe from the torn body. The rotting smell of Martha's insides had no effect on Moe, out of all the woman he's murdered over the past few years this was the least gruesome. She soon bleed to death while in shock, her eyes wide open looking at nothing as blood poured out of her mouth while she twitched every now in then. Her last gasps of air started to annoy Moe so being the saint that he is; he put Martha out of her misery by hitting her in the face with a shovel over and over again. She was 27.


He sat down for a nice quiet dinner by himself while Martha lay split open rotting on the floor, his favorite dinner; chicken and beans. The blood on her face had dried while Moe enjoyed his simple dinner causing her to look like her skin color was crimson. The bell again went off with a loud deafening BONG. Soon after the phone rang, he waited till he was done chewing to pick up since talking with your mouth full is disgusting.


"Hello?" He said in a calm cool voice he practiced over and over again in case he had to deal with more police.


"Moe look its Jeremy, you went home from work sick today what happened?"
Moe's manager from the meat factory asked, having no clue of Moe's evil doings.


"I had something I needed to take care off but it's fine now it won't happen again."

"You better make damn sure it won't happen again or else your ass is canned. Now be on time tomorrow or else." He hung up on. He just ruined Moe's perfect day...


His home is surrounded by shallow graves of woman under 30. Moe's favorites are the lost city girls or the out of Towner looking for help around town though when he's desperate for a kill he'll kidnap them and rush the poor girl to her doom back at his shack. Moe was lucky that night fall came early for him, the group at the local church just got out of night time worship so the echoing BONG from the giant church bell rang through the forest and into Moe's ear drums. While digging a fresh new grave for Martha he accidently dug up the face of number twelve, Mary. Mary was a bartender at the local pub in town, when her car broke down Moe offered her a ride. As an experiment Moe removed her face with his old bowie knife just to see what was underneath all her pretty skin. A few chunks of flesh where still dangling on her face by just a hair, what was left of her though was being eaten by the maggots and worms that crawled through the dirt, a bit startled by his discovery Moe soon covered Mary's face with dirt. He scratched his head in confusion; he didn't want to bury two people close together but at the same time he's killed so many people that he forgot where most of them are buried. He looked around and kicked the dirt a bit to see if it was fresh or not. Martha (who until this point had been lying on his carpet split open on the side) was already starting to rot as the force of dragging her body tore up her dress and scratched up her skin. Her organs where on the verge of falling out of her wound that tore open even further, the expression on her face never changed still blank, still in shock, just smashed in and bloody. After finding a nice spot for his latest victim not to close to number 12 Emily but closer then he knew to number 27 Jane. He went back into his house, cleaned the blood stains off his carpet and sprayed air freshener everywhere to cover up the smell of putrid rotted entrails, after that it was off to bed after all he had a long day.


His mother greeted him with a warm long tongue kiss, he tried to pull away but she held onto him. Life had been so hard after dad left, she was so alone so drunk all the time. The only thing she could love was her son, that's why it was forbidden to leave the house. The snow pale white child was too young to understand what was wrong with his mother tongue kissing him, how could anything be wrong with it? She was a very attractive woman for her age; in fact age had hardly taken over her body. Her breasts didn't sag her face wasn't wrinkled she was still slender as if she was immune to time itself. She grabbed her son's hands and forced them on her body when...


It was 5 a.m. when the bell was ringing faster than usual the ringing caused Moe to awaken from his nightmare. He could hear screaming coming from the town and fire crackling. When he got up he ran to his window and peered out through the forest. The church tower with the bell on top dominated over the many trees as the bell swung back and forth with a powerful force. From the distance Moe could see smoke coming from the small town and distant cries of pain over the sound of the bell. That's when he noticed a patch of dirt starting to move out in the distance near the path that leads to town right next to his truck. Very abruptly an arm emerged from the small patch of fresh dirt, it belonged to number 17 Suzy. Suzy's dress had roses and dirt stains all over it, a slight tear left her right breast exposed as she climbed out of her shallow tomb a stick caught itself in her slit throat but it was if she didn't feel it. Her body had rot almost past the point of being unrecognizable, chunks of flesh had fallen off her face leaving her skull exposed worms had occupied her left eye while other maggots and bugs still feasted on her rotting now alive corpse. Right next to her, another small patch of dirt began to rumble, then another, then another. One by one all of his victims arose from their graves decayed mutated and mutilated, either dead skin or the horrible wounds inflicted on them by Moe. Innards hung out over their stomachs, dried blood splattered around what was left of their face and throats limbs hung on by only a thread while others fell off. The dead have risen from their graves hungry for flesh and revenge.

Moe had no idea what was going outside his window, every single one them was coming back to life one by one. He was scared but in the back of his head he realized that he gets to kill them all again. When looking outside and seeing the walking cadavers marching their way to his front porch he noticed the pattern in his killings. He froze to the bone as the omnipresent fear sent shivers down his spine.
"Mother..." He muttered under his breath. Soon he was sent back in time to his childhood, back to his nightmare. She was wearing a pink robe covering up her naked body and had just forced his hands all over her body. She was a very attractive woman with long dark hair, high cheek bones and a body that most men would kill for. But why would she only give that kind of love to her son? Moe soon snapped out of it when the BONG from the bell hurt his left ear. The demonic moans scratched Moe's ear drums like nails as they slowly made their way to his porch. From where he was standing he could see out of the two windows in the living room that lead outside. He soon ran to his closet and got out his trusty buckshot blaster, known as a Remington 870 Wingmaster and a box of shells that went into his shirt pocket. He used the butt of his Wingmaster to knock out the glass from the window and fired upon the undead marching their way to his house. One shell knocked number 18 Candy down on her back while another shot number 13 Roxy was split in half. Roxy, a 27 year old single mother who was trying to piece her life back together until Moe snuck up behind her with a plastic bag over her head and raped her with a broom handle, started to moan in agony as she crawled her way to Moe's porch. Her once green turtle neck over the years had been torn to shreds while dirt transformed her shirt and skin color to brown. Her teeth had fallen out while her pupils were missing only leaving the white of her eyes as she let out a demonic hiss that distracted Moe for just one second. As Moe aimed his Wingmaster over to her Number 27 Jane made her way to Moe's gun, she reached inside the house and with what was left of her hand scratched the flesh right off Moe's arm. He let out a cry of pain while a tear fell down his cheek. He didn't want to cry but his arm hurt so bad it caused him to fall down. Blood poured out and made its way down to his forearm and wooden floor of the cabin sinking down to the basement. BONG soon went through his cabin as the hissing and moaning of the undead in front of his house tried to make his way back in. Number 12 Ashley crawled her way through the window cutting herself on the remains of the broken glass. Because she was so decrepit from decomposition her right arm hung off her by threads, soon falling off after slicing it on the glass from the window.

Franticly Moe loaded his Wingmaster while Ashley got up to her feet and made her slow way to him. Moe took a few steps back while trying to reload, dropping a shell in the process he went to pick it up by bending over but it rolled over past Ashley so he knew it was a lost cause. When he slowly worked bent upwards to an erect position he saw how disgusting and mutated Ashley had become. Her face was nothing but muscle and bone her nose was gone her ear dangled off the left side of her head while she raised her only arm up to lunge at Moe she had two more behind her Number 12 Emily and Number 8 Maria both decomposed and horrific. BONG. The fear sent shockwaves down Moe's back as he tried to cock his Wingmaster but the sweat on his palms made it difficult for him to get a grip on the gun. BONG. In unison all three undead woman took a step. BONG. Emily let out a slight his while glass shattered and three more came through the window. Moe had no choice but to take a few more steps back and think things through. BONG. The door busted open with four more woman number 22 Tory number 14 Trish number 17 Amanda number 19 Veronica. Another bone chilling BONG came from the church bell. Then the cellar door started to rise up and down but the lock on it kept it from rising. That was the home of number one....Mother.

Alcohol had ridden her sense of judgment and her breath as she forced her son to sleep with her. She would hold him down if he said no or started crying, she would beat him if he ever refused she would tie him up when he came home from school. All because little Moe was the only thing left she could hold onto from her dear sweet dead husband. Since he was a little kid to when he finally overpowered her and cracked her skull open with a meat tenderizer she would sexually abuse him to no end. Living in the cabin away from the rest of town already made him an outcast at school, but his abnormal behavior due to his mother sleeping with him and his thinking that it was normal really set him aside from the rest of the school children. He would be picked on he would be teased but the worst part of it was girls. GIRLS always teased him. GIRLS always wanted things their ways. GIRLS didn't pay enough attention to him. All GIRLS ever wanted was to hurt poor sweet Moe. It wasn't Moe's fault he was like this; Moe was just a victim of growing up with GIRLS. No GIRL could ever be nice. No GIRL would ever love Moe. No GIRL would ever give Moe the respect he deserved and NO ONE could ever give Moe the love he needed since he was a boy. This is all girls fault. They made me this way, they made me crazy. They made me do bad things...horrible things to them but they all deserved it. All of them walk all over me and when I retaliate they beg for their live. You didn't think things would turn out like this you WHORE?! You didn't think that it wouldn't come to this? For everything that you did to me, for every second of pain you put me through, for every moment I spent in my room licking up my wounds and crying because I could take this life anymore FOR EVERY SECOND I SPENT UNDERNEATH MY DRUKEN MOTHER AS SHE TOOK OUT HER SEXUAL FRUSTRATIONS OUT ON ME I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER FOR THEM. YOU DID THIS TO ME ALL OF YOU DID THIS TO ME ALL OF YOU MADE ME THIS MONSTER AND ALL OF YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR WHAT YOU MADE. The reality sucks when you think about it. When you pick on some kid because he's weird, you don't know anything about them. When you point and laugh at me when I go home to cry myself to sleep my mother walks in naked and forces me to love her. When I walk alone to school your parents drive by while you laugh out the window. And then you're the one crying while I burry you alive. You're the one crying while I slice you open, you're the one crying while I beat you senseless. Every scar I put on your body is NOTHING compared to the ones that are on my brain that plague my mind with evil. This is your entire fault. This is all your doing. You made this monster and no one could deal with it. BURN IN HELL.


The cellar door broke open as his mother's caved in face shoot up from the cellar. In a fit of rage Moe dropped his shot gun and let out a cry of insanity. He raised his steel toed boot high into the air and mashed it right into his mother's face causing pieces of dead flesh and brain to scatter about the cabin leaving Moe and anything within ten feet of the cellar covered in blood. He took deep breaths while trying to keep his anger under control, his eyes were red and blood shoot from the flashbacks of his dead again mother. He let out a deep sigh since he was happy that he got to kill his mother again, he wished that she could come back for more but her head was nothing but a stain on the bottom of his boot. He was breathing heavy and his anger was starting to take control again as he stayed focused on his dead again mother. He slowly moved his eyes up too see all 49 of his victims in the cabin waiting to tear apart his flesh. He let out another cry of anger when everything went black.

BONG.BONG.BONG.BONG.



Everything was starting to slowly come back to life. Moe was somehow still alive and upstairs covered in blood. By his own luck none of it was his, we wondered how he got here and why he was like this when everything was starting to come back to him. He went downstairs to see if there was anyone he missed. The stairs where covered in blood while the living room floor was slathered in parts. Arms legs heads torsos breasts heads and feet where scattered about through the living room. When he looked outside he saw his door was knocked down and the windows were shattered. Bloody machetes shovel a shotgun and a chainsaw lay throughout the living room when he realized he smelt smoke. He looked outside when the brightness of the sun blinded him for mere moments. For once in his life the damn bell stopped ringing over and over giving him some peace and quit. Birds sang throughout the forest as he walked along the trail into town to see if anyone was hurt. A nice slow pace as he noticed a sharp pain in his leg was gouging blood he didn't stop walking he knew he could get help once he reached town. Finally as he reached it was absolute silence till he took in his surroundings. The bell was right infront of him cracked in half as the church burnt to the ground, many buildings were destroyed blood covered the walls and dirt ground of the small town and no one was in sight. The smoke caused Moe to cough as the sounds of the fire crackling helped relax him a little bit. He was unarmed and not knowing if anything was about to happen or if everyone had just left town for some reason when all the sudden he heard a bush rustle in the distance. His senses heightened a little bit as he looked around some more. He could hear movement all around him followed by moans, he turned around and saw someone hide behind a building when finally someone snuck up behind him and took a chunk out of his neck. He let out another loud scream of pain as the town undertaker Mark tore away the flesh on his neck leaving a giant gash causing him to fall down. All he could do was grasp a hold onto the wound as the town folk soon came out their hiding spots and quickly ran up for a snack. Nothing was left of the poor tortured soul that used to be Moe. All that remained was a ribcage and a skull with a little muscle attached to it. After all the heinous killings after all the brutal deaths after all the teasing and pain it was finally over. Moe did get what he wanted though, the death of everyone that caused his pain since the plague that caused the poor women to rise from there grave and attempt to feast upon Moe soon swept the entire world. Nothing was left of this cruel world just brainless maniac that ate the living. The world grew cold with no life and soon froze over causing it to die out becoming another rock in the universe.