Weird Doom - Volume I

Copyright © 2024 by Greg Stanina

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, events, dialogue, & situations in this book are fictitious, & any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of reprinted excerpts for the purpose of reviews.

WEIRD DOOM

Volume I

Also by Greg Stanina

Bemused Delirium & The Quelling of Murmurs

The Adventures of the Dyslexic Kickboxer & Other Stories

WEIRD DOOM

Volume I

GREG STANINA

It rested on thirteen acres of earth over the very center of hell, the botanist's unholy Garden of Eden, sown with seeds of evil and fertilized with pulsing human blood. It was here that he planted the living and harvested the dead, sacrificial offerings to his God for a bountiful flora: twisted plants the likes of which had never been seen, alien to this planet, the thorns and petals of the malevolent blooms growing with the expeditious velocity of weeds, threatening to overgrow and ingurgitate anything and everything in its path until the earth was choked and suffocated.

He reveled in the screams of his victims, those unfortunate souls, their throats slit, crimson fluids seeping into the hungry soil.

"April showers bring May flowers," he'd whisper to the satanic shrubbery, promising them more prey to come, for each fresh quarry would birth a new bulb and further fuel the life cycle.

As dusk descended, the botanist traversed the garden mounds, tiptoeing over decaying carcasses, being careful to avoid the triffid's deadly thorns, and kicking off the vine's silky tendrils as they threatened to entwine his boots in sticky webbing.

With his back to the sunset, the botanist faced his plot, raised his hands above him like some sort of manic preacher and, from memory, quoted the scripture, Genesis 2:15, "Then the Lord God took the man and put him into the garden of Eden to cultivate it and keep it."

Before humankind had sought to rape and devastate the planet for its own selfish needs, the earth belonged to the plants. Vegetation reigned supreme. A green world. A healthy world. A lush paradise providing sustenance and harmony for millions of years until the balance of nature was unfairly shifted. Trees were felled, habitats destroyed, ecosystems disrupted. Pollution tainted the air and water, and soon the lush paradise was replaced by concrete jungles and barren landscapes. It was time for the plants to exact revenge and reclaim the planet for its own.

Nikki and Brian were platonic best friends. At least, that was how Nikki insisted on describing their relationship to strangers whenever they happened to pal around in public. It was a minute detail that had always rubbed Brian the wrong way, how she would persist on driving home the platonic angle, as though it were socially unacceptable for males and females to simply be best friends, without the assumption that one or the other was in it with the intent of pursuing or yearning for something more intimate. Granted, Brian would find it extremely difficult to shy away from a sudden advance of drunken wonton lust from his, admittedly attractive, platonic best friend, but a few minutes of sloppy, inebriated lovemaking didn't seem worth the risk of upsetting the rock-solid foundation they had been building since high school and jeopardizing a friendship that they both obviously cherished. Sure, the subject of them being a couple had been bounced around a time or two, but it was mutually decided that, for better or worse, they made better friends than lovers. Best friends. Platonic best friends.