Life in 1892
With today’s technology, it’s hard
to imagine living in 1892. It seems like a place limited to old movies and TV
shows.
But actually, it was a time of
innovation with new, exciting things going on and just around the corner.
Lizzie might have been as curious as
anyone else hearing about the most unusual book coming out, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar
Wilde.
Even if it wasn’t to her reading tastes,
she would have known, and maybe even talked about the horrific novel, Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley published
earlier in the century.
Maybe she was among those who
picked up a copy of the thrilling new stories, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, published on Halloween that year
by Arthur Conan Doyle.
Without the “distractions” then
like we have now with smart phones, endless video, movies, and 24/7 TV, events
and new inventions were huge news to people in those days. Imagine, if you
will, the excitement as news of the Columbian Exposition, the 1893 World’s Fair
in Chicago, started to come out. The talk of riding on that huge new wheel by
Mr. Ferris, strange exhibits from around the world… Such wonders!
Lizzie Borden had to be as excited
as anyone else, even though she was preoccupied, of course, with a murder trial
and having her life on the line. Still, she had to think, and even hope
sometimes, that she would get to (live) and see the World’s Fair.
Of course, the newspapers of the
day went on a near frenzy as word spread about the horrific murders on August
4, 1892 in the mill town of Fall River, Mass. And the idea that an unmarried
Sunday School teacher—the daughter yet!—would be arrested for the crimes?
Ghastly! Unthinkable! Shocking! Consider these headlines in the August 13, 1892
coverage in the Daily Times, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania: IT KILLED THE BORDENS.
The Discovery of the Ax Creates Another Sensation. BLOOD STAINS ON THE WEAPON.
Lizzie Borden was the OJ of her
day. Word of the murders, the trial, and her being declared not guilty spread
across the nation’s newspapers like wildfire. Like rubberneckers peering at an
accident today, people gathered outside her home and crowded the courthouse to
get a glimpse of her. She was scandal personified.
And then… it was over. Of course,
for Lizzie, the crime and the taint of scandal never truly left. The questions
remained… did she or didn’t she?
Oh, she did later make some friends
and participate in the things that interested her like supporting animals and
other charities, but she was still somewhat of a social pariah, a curiosity,
and a possible murderess?
No one really knows what happened
that day. Boundless theories exist. That’s what Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter offers–a plausible explanation for what
happened that August morning in 1892… what if Lizzie did it… because she had no other choice?
Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter
C.A. Verstraete
Genre: Horror/Dark Fantasy
Paranormal/ Zombie/Mystery
Publisher: Imajin Books
Date of Publication: Sept. 13, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-77223-273-8
ASIN: B01KISRS80
Number of pages: 232
Word Count: 74,000 +
Cover Artist: Ryan Doan
Book Description:
Every family has its secrets…
One hot August morning in 1892, Lizzie Borden picked up an axe and murdered her father and stepmother. Newspapers claim she did it for the oldest of reasons: family conflicts, jealousy and greed. But what if her parents were already dead? What if Lizzie slaughtered them because they’d become zombies?
Thrust into a horrific world where the walking dead are part of a shocking conspiracy to infect not only Fall River, Massachusetts, but also the world beyond, Lizzie battles to protect her sister, Emma, and her hometown from nightmarish ghouls and the evil forces controlling them.
Chapter One
Q. You saw
his
face covered with blood?
A. Yes sir.
Q. Did
you see
his eyeball hanging
out?
A. No sir.
Q. Did you see the gashes where his face was laid open?
A. No sir.
—Lizzie Borden at inquest, August 9-11,
1892, Fall River Courtroom
August 4,
1892
Lizzie Borden drained
the rest of her
tea, set down
her cup, and listened
to the sound of furniture moving upstairs. My, my,
for
only ten o’clock in the morning my stepmother is certainly energetic.
Housecleaning, already?
THUMP.
For a moment, Lizzie forgot her plans to go shopping downtown. THUMP. There it
went again. It sounded like her
stepmother was
rearranging the whole room. She paused at the bottom stair, her concern
growing, when she heard another thump and then, the
oddest
of sounds—a moan. Uh-oh. What was that? Did she hurt herself?
“Mrs. Borden?” Lizzie called. “Are you all right?”
No
answer.
She wondered if her stepmother had taken ill,
yet the shuffling, moving, and other unusual noises continued. Lizzie hurried up the stairs
and paused outside the partially opened
door. The strange moans coming from the room sent a shiver up her
back.
Lizzie pushed the door open wider and stared. Mrs. Abby Durfee Borden stood in front of the bureau mirror, clawing at
her reflected
image. And
what a horrid image
it was. The
sixty-seven-year-old woman’s hair looked like it had never been combed
and stuck out like porcupine
quills. Her usually
spotless housedress
appeared wrinkled and
torn.
Yet,
that wasn’t the
worst. Dark red
spots—Blood, Lizzie’s mind whispered—dotted
the
floor and streaked the sides of
the older woman’s
dress and sleeves.
Lizzie gazed about the room
in alarm. The tips of Father’s slippers
peeking out from beneath the bed also glistened with the same viscous red liquid. All that blood! What happened here?
What
happened?
She gasped, which got the
attention of Mrs. Borden, who
jerked her head and growled. Lizzie choked back
a cry
of alarm. Abby’s square,
plain face now
appeared twisted and ashen gray. Her eyes, once bright with interest, stared from
under a milky covering as if she had cataracts.
She resembled a female version
of The Portrait of Dorian Gray. Another
growl and a moan, and the
older woman lunged, arms rigid, her stubby
hands held out like claws.
“Mrs. Borden,
Abby!” Lizzie yelled and stumbled backward as fast as she could.
“Abby, do you
hear
me?”
Her stepmother shuffled forward, her steps slow but steady. She
showed no emotion or sense of recognition. The only utterances she made were those strange low moans.
Lizzie moved back even further,
trying to keep some distance
between her and Mrs. Borden’s grasping fingers.
Then her foot hit something. Lizzie quickly glanced down at the silver hairbrush that had
fallen to the floor. Too
late, she realized her error.
“No!” Lizzie cried out at the strange feeling of her stepmother’s
clammy, cold hand around her wrist. “Abby, what happened? What’s wrong with
you?”
Mrs. Borden said nothing and moved in closer. Her mouth opened
and closed,
revealing bloodstained teeth.
“No! Stay away!” Lizzie yelled.
“Stop!”
She didn’t. Instead, Mrs.
Borden
scratched and
clawed at her. Lizzie leaned back, barely escaping the snap of the madwoman’s teeth
at her
neck.
“Mrs. Bor—Abby! No, no!
Stop!”
Lizzie’s slight advantage of a few
inches in height offered no protection against her shorter stepmother’s almost demonic and inhuman strength. The older woman bit and snapped like a rabid dog. Lizzie
struggled to
fight her off, and shoved her away, yet Mrs. Borden attacked again and again, her hands grabbing, her
teeth seeking
the
tender flesh
covered by Lizzie’s long,
full sleeves.
The two of them grappled and wrestled, bumping
into the bedposts
and banging into furniture. Lizzie yelped each time her soft flesh hit something
hard. She felt her
strength
wane as the crazed woman’s gnarled hands clawed at her. Lizzie wondered how
much more she could
endure.
Lizzie’s
cries for help came out hoarse and
weak.
“Em-Emma!”
She tried again. “Help! Help me!” She knew Emma had come in late last night from her trip out of town. But if Emma already woke and went
downstairs, will she even
hear
me?
Lizzie reeled back, her panic growing as her spine pressed against the fireplace. She pushed and fought in an attempt to keep this monster away, yet Mrs. Borden’s ugly face and snapping teeth edged closer and closer.
Then Lizzie spotted it: the worn hatchet Father had left behind after he’d
last brought in
the
newly chopped wood. No, no! Her mind filled with horror,
but when
her stepmother
came
at her again, Lizzie whispered a prayer for forgiveness and
grabbed the
handle. She lifted the
hatchet high overhead and swung as
hard as she could. It hit her
stepmother’s skull with a sickening thud.
As impossible as it seemed, Mrs. Borden snarled and
continued her attack.
Lizzie hit her again, and again, and again. The blows raked her stepmother’s face and scraped deep furrows into
tender flesh. The metal hatchet head pounded her stepmother’s shoulders and arms, the bones
giving
way
with
sickening crunches.
Mrs. Borden’s
broken
arms dangled, hanging
limp and ugly
at her sides… and yet, dear God, yet she
continued her attack.
With the last bit of her strength, Lizzie raised the hatchet again and brought it down on Mrs. Borden’s head. Only then did her stepmother crumple and fall into a pile at Lizzie’s feet.
It took
a few minutes for Lizzie to comprehend the horrible scene. It didn’t seem
real, but it was. With a cry, she threw the bloodied hatchet
aside. She gagged as the weapon caught in the braided artificial hairpiece hanging from the back of Mrs. Borden’s gore-encrusted scalp.
Retching, Lizzie ran to the other side of the bed, bent over, and vomited into the chamber pot. She crossed the room and leaned against the wall, her shoulders shaking with each heart-rending sob.
Her hands trembled so hard she could barely hold them still, but she
managed to cover her eyes in a feeble attempt to block out the carnage. It didn’t
stop the horrific images that flashed in her mind, or the many
questions. And it certainly did nothing
for the soul-crushing guilt that filled her.
Why? she
cried. Why? Dear God, what have I done? What have I
done?
Christine (C.A.) Verstraete enjoys putting a bit of a “scare” in her writing. He stories have appeared in various anthologies and publications including Mystery Weekly, Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crime, Siren’s Call Magazine, and more. She also is the author of books on dollhouses and a YA novel, GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie.
Her latest novel is Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter.
Learn more at her website, http://cverstraete.com and her blog, http://girlzombieauthors.blogspot.com
Twitter: @caverstraete https://twitter.com/caverstraete
Goodreads:
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