Tag Archives: apocalypse

“It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.”

If your idea of a decent bedtime story is a tale of a terrible future, then stop on over at The Bees Are Dead.  We’ve got some wonderful dystopian poetry, prose and photography, thanks to a diverse group of truly talented contributors.  There are some unsettling visions, but you won’t be sorry you visited.

Today’s feature was “The Red Dream” (“красная мечта,”)  a haunting photographic composition by Ekaterine Dovzhenko depicting former Soviet states.  Be sure also to read “Homeland,” Robert Borski’s superb, psychedelic riff of L. Frank Baum’s “The Wizard of Oz.”


Photo credit: Albert Goodwin’s “Apocalypse,” 1903

Hey zombie fans! Check out a terrific free short story, “Fort Hope!”

I’m tickled to report that The Bees Are Dead’s first published prose work is a damn good zombie apocalypse yarn — Eddie Skelson’s “Fort Hope.”  Skelson’s wickedly surprising tale focuses on the survivors, rather than the monsters themselves — but, trust me, “Fort Hope” is fun, dark stuff.  I highly recommend it, and it’s free!  (If it’s one thing that the Internet has taught me, is that there are a lot of people out there who love a free zombie apocalypse story.)

So head on over to The Bees Are Dead and check out our very first short story.  And if you enjoy it, as I did, then send the link along to a friend.

“Fort Hope,” by Eddie Skelson




Yeesh. Lotta nightmares last night.

Rescue a helpless little girl lying unconscious in the street during the vampire apocalypse?  The tiny one with golden braids and porcelain skin?  There’s a reason you couldn’t feel her heartbeat.  Her skin is porcelain because she’s undead.  Have fun watching her rise, slowly and ceremoniously, in the makeshift fortress of your living room.  For added fun, the lock on your bedroom door won’t work!  Ha!  The moral of the story?  No good deed goes unpunished.

Thrilled to see your childhood dog again?  She’s NOT thrilled to see you. Because she’d been buried in “Pet Sematary” or something, and she’s biting your fingers because she remembers all those times you pulled her tail when you were three.  (Mom TOLD you to stop, but you couldn’t resist.)  The moral of the story?  [In best Fred Gwynne voice:] “Sometimes dead is better.” Also: be kind to animals!

That wicked cool GIGANTIC snake you keep snapping pictures of when it drinks from the backyard birdbath?  The one with a head the width of a shovel?  It’s actually NOT harmless merely because you cannot see any fangs.  It all fun and games until it wraps its coils around you, and you realize it’s a python.  For added fun, your Mom can’t hear you in the kitchen and cannot respond to your pleas for her to throw you a butcher knife, and then shut the open back door to protect herself.  For added confusion, your childhood home NEVER HAD A F***ING BIRDBATH.  (We WERE the 99 percent.)  The moral of the story?  [IN best MST3K voice:] “Watch out for snakes!”  Also: if clothes don’t make the man, then fangs don’t make the snake.

Christ!  What did I EAT last night?