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    Gruesome Futures: Tales to Make You Vomit, #4
    Gruesome Futures: Tales to Make You Vomit, #4
    Gruesome Futures: Tales to Make You Vomit, #4
    Ebook132 pages1 hour

    Gruesome Futures: Tales to Make You Vomit, #4

    By J. Manfred Weichsel, Misha Burnett, Max Gunssler and Todd Love

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    About this ebook

    The librarian is back with her first misanthropic anthology!

    When three brave astronauts embark on a trip to the moon, little do they know that a hidden purpose awaits them—an alien signal detected from the moon, shrouded in secrecy to prevent panic on Earth. The lunar module is damaged upon landing, stranding the astronauts on the moon's surface, with no hope of returning home. Determined to fulfill their mission, they follow the mysterious signal to a crater, leading them beneath the moon's surface and into an enigmatic library.

    Here they meet the Librarian, a seemingly harmless elderly woman with a nefarious agenda. The bilious bibliosoph has decided to put humanity on trial by forcing each astronaut to read a sickening science fiction book from her liverish library. If just one can read a book without throwing up, the earth will be spared. But each time one of the astronauts gets green around the gills, the librarian will launch, by catapult, a giant rock at the earth, which will, upon impact, cause massive loss of life. As the bizarre book bazaar unfolds, the astronauts face an unsettling realization—the final rock will bring about the destruction of Earth.

    Along with the frame narrative by J. Manfred Weichsel, Gruesome Futures features stories by three acclaimed authors renowned for their ability to invoke revulsion, dread, and a dark fascination. They are:

    Misha Burnett!

    With a penchant for crafting unsettling narratives, Misha Burnett's latest tale, It Only Hurts When I Swallow, promises to take you on an emotional journey of grotesque beauty. In this slice of new wave fiction, Burnett's twisted imagination births scenes of judicial punishment that will be difficult to digest.

    Max Gunssler!

    Prepare to be ensnared by the putrid pulp of Max Gunssler, for in The R*** and Annihilation of Babe Babylonia, he weaves a story of future professional wrestling that will disturb the depths of your puny human psyche. Gunssler's uncanny ability to write gonzo, off-the-wall action scenes will leave you breathless, and empty your stomach.

    Todd Love!

    In The Secret on Subfloor 82 of Serenity Station, Todd Love offers readers an unforgiving plunge into the darkest recesses of the human condition. In this piece of Grimdark MilFic action, Love's exploration of the grotesque serves as a reflection of our own flawed existence, challenging you to unearth the true horrors that lie within… within your gut, that is.

    Gruesome Futures will invade your nightmares and make you sick. Can you read this digest of disgust without throwing up? Do you take the challenge? 
     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJ. Manfred Weichsel
    Release dateSep 1, 2023
    ISBN9798223505594
    Gruesome Futures: Tales to Make You Vomit, #4
    Author

    J. Manfred Weichsel

    J. Manfred Weichsel writes extravaganzas that fuse adventure, horror, science fiction, and fantasy into some of the most original subversive literature being published today.  Weichsel’s shorter works appear regularly in Cirsova Magazine and anthologies from Cirsova Publishing.  His longer self-published works have gained him a broad and dedicated base of rabid fans comprising folks from every segment of society – readers of all stripes who share a dark sense of humor and a desire to see modern culture burlesqued, and age-old human stupidity mocked.  A fiercely independent author, J. Manfred Weichsel aims to give birth to the classics of the future by writing works ungoverned by the constraints of traditional publishing houses and the inhibitions of contemporary society.   Loved by some and hated by others, Weichsel’s funny, unconventional, often grotesque books inhabit a unique space in American literature and will be read, talked about, and debated for generations to come. 

    Read more from J. Manfred Weichsel

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      Book preview

      Gruesome Futures - J. Manfred Weichsel

      Copyright © August 2023 J. Manfred Weichsel

      All rights reserved.

      ––––––––

      Frame Narrative © by J. Manfred Weichsel

      It Only Hurts When I Swallow © by Misha Burnett

      The Rape and Annihilation of Babe Babalonia © by Max Gunssler

      The Secret on Subfloor 82 of Serenity Station © by Todd Love

      ––––––––

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      ––––––––

      Edited by J. Manfred Weichsel

      Cover art and design by Ramiro Roman, Jr.

      Proofread by Mark Thompson

      Tales to Make You Vomit

      Okay, Patricia Cavendish said, squinting through the thick glass at the lunar surface below. We're coming up on the landing site. Looks a little rocky.

      Roger, I said as the gray surface of the moon rose up to meet us. Watch your fuel.

      I'm going to take manual control, she said.

      Roger. Over, I said as sweat matted my hair.

      I’ve taken manual control.

      Okay. You have manual control, I said, wiping the sweat-soaked hair from my brow. Altitude 1,000 feet. Velocity 100 feet per second. Sixty seconds of fuel left.

      I see a good spot over there, she said. Let's go for it.

      I don’t like that spot.

      I’m going to go for it.

      Roger. Thirty seconds of fuel left. Altitude 100 feet. Velocity 10 feet per second... Pull left! Pull left!

      CRASH!!!

      Aching all over, I forced my dizzy and disoriented body to rise from the seat. There had been four of us in the spider-shaped vehicle. I went to check on Patricia Cavendish. She was dead. Her neck must have snapped when we made impact with the moon. That meant that I was in charge. I, Adam Chronis, would become the first man, the first person, in fact, to walk on the moon since 1972. 

      After checking on the other two astronauts, I stepped through the open hatch, climbed down the three metal steps, and put my foot down on the lunar soil. My heart beat rapidly in my chest. I had stage fright. The next words I spoke would be heard all around Earth, which hung blue and majestic in the sky above. I took a deep breath and said, That’s another step for a man, another leap for humankind.

      Diamond Jones cut off the camera, stepped out of the module, and became the first openly transgender person and the first black woman to set foot on the moon. I stopped to marvel at the tremendous progress humanity had made since the last lunar mission in 1972!

      Then Atticus Justice for Everyone Finch climbed down the steps to join us. Our team was complete.

      The lunar module was heavily damaged upon impact. We would not be able to make it back to Apollo 18, which meant we would not be able to make it home to Earth. We would die here, on the surface of the moon. But we wouldn’t just wait in the wrecked lunar module as it ran out of air.

      You see, as Apollo 18 approached the moon, the captain called the four of us who were to make the landing to a private meeting. He said, We are a day away from the moon, and it’s time for me to tell you the true reason for our mission. A signal has been detected, coming from a lunar crater. It’s not human in origin. But it’s not natural, either. We believe it comes from an extraterrestrial. An alien. That is why we have made this voyage.

      Well, we were stranded on the moon, sure to die. But at least, before the inevitable, we could make first contact, and have our names go down in history. But we didn’t have a lot of time before the air ran out, so holding the small radio beacon out in front of me, we followed it towards the signal.

      We walked across the rocky lunar surface, a monotonous plane of gray stone stretching in all directions, until we came to the edge of a large crater. The signal led us down the sloping mouth of the crater onto the floor below. We walked across the crater valley to the opposite wall, where the signal led us to metal double doors. They opened for us. Full of wonder and fear, we stepped through into a small room. The doors behind us slid shut, and for a moment I panicked as I thought we had been trapped, but then an identical pair of doors in front of us slid open. We stepped through into a large rocky cavern, where, reaching as far and high as we could see, were metal shelves upon metal shelves, packed tightly with a most human object—books.

      We walked the aisles of this strange place, looking all around us in bewilderment, when Diamond Jones said, I’m going to remove my helmet.

      Do not remove your helmet, I said. I revered Diamond, and could not bear the thought of something happening to her.

      Why? We went through an airlock.

      Yes, but although we know there is an atmosphere in here, we do not know what kind it is, I pleaded.

      I don’t care about any of that, she said with a snap of her gloved fingers. If we are going to make first contact with an alien, I want it to see how fabulous I am.

      There was nothing else I could say. As a transgender woman of color, Diamond had so many more accomplishments than I could ever hope to achieve. I was in awe of this woman! Although I was technically her commanding officer, I didn’t feel worthy to even stand beside her on the surface of the moon, let alone give her orders.

      Diamond undid the clasps on her helmet, removed it, and shook out her hair with a few throws of her head. After a few minutes, when Diamond did not die, Atticus and I removed our helmets and breathed in air that tasted completely normal in every respect except for the stale smell of books.

      Then, a figure came hobbling towards us from around a corner. I gazed at it with fascination. It was about five feet tall, and had gray-green skin. I said, This is it. We have made first contact.

      Diamond said, I don’t think that’s an alien. Yeah, its skin is green, but that’s the green of rot, not, like, alien-green. This is the living dead we are looking at, a very human ghoul.

      I took a second look. Diamond’s superior intuition as a trans woman of color had served her right again. The figure had the attributes of an elderly human female, and wore a floral print dress with a yellow sweater over it. The sweater had shoulder pads. Her stockings went up to her knees. On her face was a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. She smiled and said, Hello. I am the Librarian. Thank you for visiting my library.

      The... the Librarian? I asked. What does this mean? Are you the one who sent out that signal?

      I am.

      But... but how? And why?

      The how is unimportant. As for the why, in order to share my love of books with you! She lowered her head, smiled sweetly, looked up at me batting her eyelids, and said, Do you like to read?

      I do.

      And what do you like to read?

      Among astronauts, science fiction is a cultural reference point. We all grew up reading stories about the romance of space exploration, and it was those books that inspired us to follow the career path we did. Whenever two astronauts meet for the first time, the conversation inevitably turns to golden age sci-fi. Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke! I told her so.

      And what is it, she asked, that draws you to this science fiction?

      We love the hopeful and optimistic vision for the future golden age sci-fi presents.

      Suddenly, the Librarian grew mad. Hope? she spat. Optimism? she hopped on one foot. Phooey! Bah! She spat again. Those are not the things that make science fiction great literature.

      Ah, I said. I understand what you are getting at. Science fiction is superior to all other genres because it is the literature of ideas.

      No! No! No! she screamed, shaking her fists convulsively. You don’t understand science fiction at all!

      Then what is it? I asked.

      Science fiction is great for the same simple reason all genres are great. Because it makes you vomit!

      The three of us looked at each other. Was this person insane? Was this what we had given away our lives for, to meet a madwoman with strange ideas about speculative literature?

      Come with me, the Librarian smiled.

      We followed her past rows upon rows of books, to a lift against the far rock wall. We stepped onto the platform and were whisked upwards to the very top. We stepped out onto a rock ledge covered with a clear dome. Beyond the dome was the lunar surface, the vacuum of space, and mother Earth hanging full in the sky. Directly in front of us were old couches and cushioned chairs arranged around coffee tables piled high with books, and nightstands with reading lamps.

      The Librarian said, I have called you all here because I have decided to put humanity on trial. You see, people have lost their love for great literature. They no longer like to barf. And really, does such a race deserve to live? Look over there, she said, pointing at a part of the dome. Do you see those four catapults?

      We looked and saw, squatting on the lunar plane beyond the dome, four giant contraptions.

      She continued, "Each one is loaded with a rock large enough to reach

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