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366 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 60

February 29, 2016

As promised, a once in a lifetime story for Leap Day, a story topic that I swore I would never write about, but I also don’t back down on challenges! So here you go….

Prompt: “Not your grandpa’s baseball game.”


Spare-Parts Baseball

The lights came on in the ballpark as dusk fell across the stadium. The crowd stood and cheered as Let’s Go Out to the Ballgame began playing. And then they announced the teams. The players filed out and onto the field to standing ovations and screams. After a few moments of adulation, the players took their positions and the announcement was made: “Let’s Play Ball!”

Suddenly the lights went out and people in the stands began screaming. The players stood frozen in their positions unsure of what was going on. The announcer tried to calm the people as technicians raced to get the lights back on, but there wasn’t a problem with the electrical system at all. In fact, there wasn’t a problem anywhere. The lights had been deliberately shut off.

And then the announcer came back on over the loud speaker.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, there has been a change of venue,” the announcer said as his voice cracked. He let out a slight whimper and then continued, “Please remain in your seats. Players, please exit the field.”

Pandemonium rang out through the ballpark. The players raced off of the field. Then the lights blazed on once again. Music began playing, but not the usual cheery baseball music. This was dark, dreary music. And then two new teams took to the field. One with red shirts and another with green shirts. They staggered out, walking stiff-legged. The sound of a thousand gasps filled the stadium.

“Laaaddiesss and gennnntlemeeen,” the announcers voice stuttered, “the Zombie league…” his voice trailed off and a ghastly voice took over. “Let’s play ball!”

As the zombie league took their positions, the bleachers began filling with even more zombies. People screamed and tried to run, but they were trapped in their seats.

“Batter up!” the ghastly voice yelled.

A green shirt ambled up to the plate, ripped off the umpire zombie’s arm and held it like a baseball bat. The red shirt pitcher snagged the head off an infielder, wound up the head and threw a curve ball at the red shirt.

“Strike one!” the umpire bellowed as the catcher tossed the head back to the pitcher.

The pitcher threw a fast ball and the red shirt tipped it and fouled the head off into the stands behind it. A woman screamed. The umpire shouted, “Strike two!”

The catcher snatched the head off of a zombie ball-boy and tossed it out to the pitcher. A slider whipped through the air and this time the red shirt knocked the head out of the stadium.

“Home run!” the ghastly announcer yelled. “You know what that means!”

The zombies in the stadiums began attacking the crowd, ripping off limps and gnawing at their heads. Home runs always meant brains! As the brains were devoured and limps discarded, the leftovers were tossed down to another zombie ball-boy to pile up for the catcher and batters.

Oh these were exciting times! Music blared and zombies roared. The remaining crowd again tried to escape, but were unable. Some jumped over the bleachers and crashed onto the field. Outfielders snatched them up and tossed them back over.

The game progressed. More limps as baseball bats, more heads as balls. Strikes, balls, and home runs were adding up. And so were the dead. Batters lost legs and arms as they ran the bases. Whole body parts flew off as they stole bases. The field resembled a battle field more than a baseball diamond. By the bottom of the ninth inning, the game was tied six all and the red shirts were up to bat. The batter found a nice thick leg and staggered up to the plate.

“Home run! Home run!” the zombies in the stadium chanted. There were still a few humans left alive in the crowd.

The pitcher wavered on the mound. His body swayed back and forth. Finally, he wound up the head, and as he flung it, his own arm ripped off and went flying through the air with the head. The batter aimed and hit the head and arm hard and off into left field. The arm crashed midway, but the head soared out of the ballpark.

“Home run! And the red shirts win the game!” the ghastly announcer screamed. “Eat, my friends. Eat!”

©2016 Lori Carlson. All rights reserved.

  1. Soul Gifts permalink

    Yeah, I know , I clicked like and read it, but I lied 😦

    • That’s okay, Raili… I don’t like Zombies either, but a friend dared me to write a zombie story and gave me that prompt…so, it is what it is 🙂

      • Soul Gifts permalink

        It wasn’t a bad story, just not to ‘my palate’ 🙂

      • Aye.. wasn’t my usual cup of tea either.. lol Thanks hun 🙂

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