coming to get you barbara

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R.I.P George A. Romero

“They’re Coming to Get You, Barbara“ by No More Kings

III (2014)

You’re Just Too Good To Be True!

Written by @gothamimagines

Hello to all my gorgeous followers!! Did you miss me? :P Sorry about my hiatus, I’ve been pretty ill in hospital. but here I am :)

Let me know what you think of this as a start :) I have plans for the second part already :)

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You sat at your desk at the GCPD, drumming your nails impatiently on the polished wood. You hated waiting for Jim, he was never on time.  You weren’t a cop; you were kind of like a secretary, answering phones, taking lunch orders and such.  Jim had gotten you the job so you could pay for your little flat, and a job was a job.

You’d known Jim Gordon for most of your life; he had been friends with your father. They met in their army days and stayed in contact when they had finished their tours. But little did Jim know that the man he knew from the army was a very different character to the man who raised you.

Your father was abusive, always had been. He drank like a fish and there wasn’t a single night where he didn’t use you and your mother as punching bags.

You’d been 15 when your mother took off without a word. A simple note left on your bedside table with the words ‘I’m Sorry’ scribbled on it. You’d never felt resentment like that towards a person before. What kind of a woman abandons their child with an abuser like him? You found out she’d killed herself 6 months later. It had been in the newspaper her body had been found. Not that you’d cared, it had actually brought a smile to your face.

Things only got worse after she left; you took double the beatings and double the heartache. To the outside world you and your father were inseparable. Bright smiles and hugs whenever you were around people. You were the perfect family who had overcome so much.  That’s why it had been so easy to convince everyone around you, convince them that you’d had no hand in his murder.

You’d taken another 2 years of beatings and emotional abuse before you finally snapped, you’d planned the whole thing perfectly.  You’d smothered the bastard in his sleep before turning on the gas from the stove, letting it fills the room knowing the automatic timer on the gas fire would kick in 30 minutes later. You’d even placed the kettle on the burner to look as though he’d turned it on himself.

You’d run out to collect takeout giving yourself the perfect alibi, by the time you’d collected food and returned home the deed was done. You’d played the part of the doting daughter so well, dropping the bags of food screaming at the top of your lungs. Trying to push your way past the firefighters to reach you father.

Your neighbours surrounded you, comforting the poor girl who’d not only lost her mother but her father too; and all 6 months before her 18th birthday.

A knock on the desk pulled you from your thoughts.

“Sorry I’m late Y/n” you snort and roll your eyes at the older man

“It’s ok Jim, I think I’m used to it by now” you laugh

Jim had been good to you; he’d pulled many stings to keep you out of the foster system. He and his ex-girlfriend had taken you in and helped you until you turned 18 and could be legally declared an adult. He’d helped you claim your father’s life insurance after his death had been ruled as accidental.

God bless the GCPD and their lack of investigating.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you. I want you to join Lee and me for dinner tonight” you visibly shrunk.

“Jim…” you groan in protest.

You hated Lee, maybe hate is a strong word…no in fact hate is the right word! She treated you like a child, like you were 8 rather than 18. She even patted you on the head last time you all had dinner.

You missed Barbara; Barbara who treated you like a woman instead of a child. She took you shopping and for coffee just because she wanted to.

She was more of a mother figure to you than anyone else…even now. Yes, you still saw Barbara. Not that Jim knew of course but she was your friend. She was like your sister and even now you still depended on her.

“I know it didn’t go great last time but I was hoping that you’d give her another chance” Jim flashed those damn puppy eyes at you trying to get his own way.

“Oh no you don’t! You can put those puppy eyes away Gordon, plus I think ‘didn’t go great’ is an understatement! Besides I can’t I have plans tonight, I’m visiting a friend I haven’t seen in a while.” You said honestly, Jim looked disappointed but nodded understanding

“Fine but Friday night, no excuse. I’m cooking” you mock salute Jim, who drops a kiss on your head as he turns away to finish his paperwork.

You grabbed your jacket checking your watch quickly, grimacing that you were going to have to take a cab now because you’d missed the bus.  You luckily managed to hail a cab as soon as you exited the building. You rushed home and changed, making a quick sandwich to keep you going until later.

You checked your appearance once more in the mirror, touching up your make up slightly. Barbara had always told you, a face as pretty as yours should always look its best. You slipped into your heeled boots and your coat, grabbing your keys and made your way to the door.

You flagged down a cab and gave your destination, earning a look of shock from the driver. You watched the city skyscrapers fade as you approached the ghastly looking building appear over the horizon.

You exited the car after paying the driver; you look up and take in the intimidating sight before you. You shook the feeling of dread you always got when you came here for a visit and walked through the doors.  You strutted up to the guard like you always did

“Y/n Y/l/n, here to see Barbara Kean” you smiled. The guard checked his list, finding your name. You sign your name and step towards the scanner. You hand over your keys and your phone while they frisk you for anything else you may have smuggled in.

“Ok you can go through” they grunt, giving you a ticket for you items that you pick up on your way put.

You walk into the cold, liquid white room. Sitting on your usual seat, where you can see the inmates as they walk past.

You pick at your fingernail as you wait for your friend, until something catches you eye. You see red hair enter your vision on the other side of the bars.

You look up, straight into his eyes. He’s standing there watching you, a large smile engulfing his face. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him, you’d caught glimpses of him passing, usually in a group on previous visits. Your eyes would meet briefly but never like this. Right here and now, it almost seemed as though he’d come looking for you. You feel butterflies in your stomach at the thought but you keep your face neutral. You both just stare at each other neither breaking eye contact until your both disturbed.

“Valeska! Let’s move!” you hear a guard order, causing him to roll his eyes. The corner of your mouth twitches upwards at the sight, you hope he didn’t see it but you can tell by the way his eyes danced that he had.

You hear the door open and see Barbara walk.

“There’s my girl, I’ve missed you” you stand to hug Barbara tightly, a bright smile falling on your face.

Your eyes fall back to the bars one last time to see the man walk away, but not before throwing you a wink. You bite your lip to save from blushing. Trying to remember that he was in here for a reason, but unable to shake the feeling rushing through your body.

“How’ve you been Y/n?” Barbara asked taking a seat at the table.

You filled her in and the ins and outs of the last two weeks. Dancing around the subject of Jim like you always did.

“He still doesn’t know you’re here does he?” she asked eyeing you carefully.

“You really think that’s a conversation I want to have with him?” you snort

“How’s things with the Doc?”

“Ugh, she’s a pain in the ass. I swear she actually patted my head last week. She was lucky I didn’t push her out of the window” Barbara laughs at your comment

“Careful Y/n/n, they’ll think you belong in here if you keep talking like that” she winked. You put on a smile but you know you probably do actually belong in here.  

You could have sworn you saw a flash of red at the bars again, Barbara catches you looking.

“What? What is it?” she frowns

“Nothing just thought I saw someone is all” you shrug. She narrows her eyes at you

“No, you were looking for someone…Who in here could have caught your eye?” she laughs at the idea.

“There was just this guy looking at me when I was waiting for you is all, he’s cute I’ve seen him before; and yes I know that’s crazy as he’s in here for a reason. But he was called away by a guard so doesn’t matter” you brush off the interaction between yourself and the cute redhead.

“You hear a name? What did he look like?” she teased you

“Barbara…” you groan

“Come on! I don’t get much entertainment in here, humour me” you roll your eyes and sigh deeply.

“The guard shouted Valeska and he had red hair and he was cute” you see Barbara roll her eyes dramatically.

“Oh God…Yeah I’m glad you’re out there and he’s in here…” You frown at her comment, wondering what she meant “His name is Jerome Valeska; he’s about your age maybe a little older.  He’s in here for killing his mother. He’s…well he’s crazy Y/n…” you stare at her for a moment waiting for her to remember why she was locked up in here.

“I know I killed my parents but I’m not crazy!” You throw your hands up in defence.

“I didn’t say you were, if I thought that I wouldn’t be here. I’d be with Jim and Lee being treated like a 8 year old!” she calmed down, taking your words in.

“Why do you come here Y/n?” you don’t even have to think about an answer

“Because you’re my friend Barbara, and I can understand why you did what you did” you add quietly.

Barbara’s eyes widen slightly at your words but she doesn’t push you. You both understand this isn’t a conversation you can have.

You’re both interrupted be the bell ringing to signal your visit is over. You both stand silently, embracing each other tightly before you have to watch her walk away. You sigh heavily swallowing a lump in your throat, you hated watching her being locked up in here.

You exit the room to collect your belongings, counting the days until your next visit.


To be continued? 

Horror Movie Sentence Starters

“They don’t fall down when they’re shot.”

“That cold ain’t the weather. That’s death approaching.”

“Love means never having to say you’re ugly.”

“Get away from her, you bitch.”

“Well hello Mister Fancypants. Well, I’ve got news for you pal, you ain’t leadin’ but two things, right now: Jack and shit… and Jack left town.”

“Good ___, bad ___. I’m the guy with the Gun.”

“Paradise lost? Found it!”

“Supernatural, perhaps; baloney, perhaps not.”

“We medicals have a better way than that. When we dislike a friend of ours, we dissect him.”

“I am, what psychiatrists call, alpha male.”

“They’re all gonna laugh at you.”

“These are godless times, _____.”

“Hi, I’m Chucky. Wanna play?”

“Don’t fuck with the Chuck.”

“One-stop shopping: everything you need, right at your fingertips.”

“When there is no room left in hell, the dead will walk the earth.”

“You want me to salute that walking pile of puss?”

“That’s my mother you’re pissing on.”

“Hey ___! Remember when I said this car was death proof? Well, that wasn’t a lie. This car is 100% death proof. Only to get the benefit of it honey, you really gotta be sitting in my seat.”

“Well, since you’ll be leaving in the next couple of days, that rain check will be worthless. But that’s okay. I understand if I make you uncomfortable. You’re still a nice girl/boy, and I still like you. But I must warn you of something - you know how people say ‘You’re okay in my book’ or 'In my book, that’s no good?’ Well, I actually have a book. And everybody I ever meet goes in this book. And, now I’ve met you, and you’re going in the book! Except, I’m afraid I must file you… under… chicken shit.”

“Boy/Girl, the next word that comes out of your mouth better be some brilliant fuckin’ Mark Twain shit. 'Cause it’s definitely getting chiseled on your tombstone.”

“Groovy!”

“We just cut up our girl/boyfriend with a chainsaw. Does that sound 'fine’?”

“What an excellent day for an exorcism.”

“I’m the guy/girl that’s gonna save your ass.”

“Whoa. Monster cock.”

“I’d say I’m a pretty darn good father. My father tried to eat me, I don’t remember trying to eat my kid.”

“Is that blood on your zombie?”

“Why aren’t you eating me?”

“Be afraid… Be very afraid.”

“Something came out of the fog and tried to destroy us. In one moment, it vanished. But if this has been anything but a nightmare, and if we don’t wake up to find ourselves safe in our beds, it could come again. To the ships at sea who can hear my voice: look across the water, into the darkness. Look for the fog.”

“It’s Alive! It’s Alive!”

“I should warn you, princess - the first time tends to get a little messy.“

"Every town has an Elm Street.”

“I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that any weirdo wearing a mask is never friendly.”

“No, thanks. I’ve already had a wife.”

“Do they look like psychos? Is that what they look like? They were vampires! Psychos do not explode when sunlight hits them, I don’t give a fuck how crazy they are!”

“We’ve been going about this all wrong. This Mr. Stay Puft’s okay! He’s a sailor, he’s in New York; we get this guy laid, we won’t have any trouble!”

“We came, we saw, we kicked its ass!”

“I get this ache… And I, I thought it was for sex, but it’s to tear everything to fucking pieces.”

“Goddamn foreign TV. I told ya we should’ve got a Zenith.”

“That’s cause I’m the sheriff, asshole.”

“Yeah? Well, your nipples are dumb.”

“It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare.”

“The dead are not quiet in Hill House.”

“No tears please, it’s a waste of good suffering.”

“If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I’d fart.”

“Oh? You got a letter? I got ran over, ___ gets her/his hair chopped off and ___ gets a body in her/his trunk and you get a letter? That’s balanced.”

“Drink from me. And live forever.”

“So he… he ate your hand? How did you dig the hole?”

“I don’t even fucking speak Chinese!!”

“You’re going to need a bigger boat.”

“You know that part in scary movies when somebody does something really stupid and everyone hates them for it? This is it.”

“One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach, all the damn vampires.”

“I’m your number one fan.”

“Well, you just pissed me off.”

“They’re coming to get you, Barbara!”

“I’m your boyfriend now!”

“We don’t need a stretcher in there. We need a mop!”

“Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.”

“Welcome to prime time, bitch.”

“You’ve got the body, I’ve got the brain.”

“Sometimes dead is better.”

“Today is thanksgiving day for cats. But only if they came back from the dead.”

“No more dead bodies for Daddy tonight.”

”Don’t shoot yourself. Don’t shoot each other. And especially… don’t shoot me.”

“They’re here!”

“I don’t get mad. I bake.”

“You’re keeping me alive because you don’t know DOS?!”

“A boy’s best friend is his mother.”

“We all go a little mad sometimes.”

“You’ll never get credit for my research. Who’s going to believe a talking head? Get a job in a sideshow.”

“I know you’re there. Because I can smell your brains.”

“That was very student film.”

“I wanna play a game.”

“To see what your insides look like.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

“No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!”

“Never say who’s there? Don’t you watch scary movies? It’s a death wish. You might as well come out to investigate a strange noise or something.”

“We’ve already played that game, remember? You lost.”

“It’s been a funny sort of day, hasn’t it?”

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

“Darling. Light, of my life. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You didn’t let me finish my sentence. I said, I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m just gonna bash your brains in.”

“Heeeeeeeeere’s Johnny!”

“I can smell your cunt.”

“Who can say. Best thing for him, really. His therapy was going nowhere.”

“I see dead people.”

“If I weren’t about to shit in my pants right now, I’d be fuckin’ fascinated.”

“He’s a goddamn Martian?”

“Martians is from Mars.”

“Or it’s a general term meaning 'outer-space fucker’.”

“Trust is a tough thing to come by these days.”

“I know you gentlemen have been through a lot, but when you find the time, I’d rather not spend the rest of this winter TIED TO THIS FUCKING COUCH!”

“You gotta be fucking kidding.”

“GET OUT OF YOUR PANTS!”

“Hey - check this out! I found the ass end!”

“You really scared me, if that’s what you wanted. Is that what you wanted?”

“Your blood all over me.”

“I came to chew bubblegum and kick ass, and i am all out of bubblegum.”

Reblog if you’re an artist and you ARE NOT okay with people modifying and reposting your art without permission.

Or do it if you’re not and you believe that it’s wrong because I’m trying to prove a point to people who seem to think that we’re okay with this or that we “should be flattered”.

Outbreak (Luther & Marie)

Luther woke up without his alarm at 7:10 PM. Stretching and yawning loudly, he sat up in bed and wiped his face, trying to wake himself up. Forcing himself to get up and not roll over as he wanted to, Luther sat on the edge of the bed for only a short moment before he got up to start his nightly routine. Work was at 9 PM, and he was a very punctual guy. He showered quickly, pulling on his jeans and boots, followed by an old t-shirt and his leather jacket. At least this job doesn’t make me dress up, he thought. I can’t afford all that expensive crap they sell in department stores.

He wandered out to his tiny kitchen and made coffee. After spiking it with Red Bull, Luther chugged it down and ate some trail mix. He was hungrier than all this, but he’d forgotten to go food shopping again. All he had left in his refrigerator was a single bell pepper, and he wasn’t about to eat that like an apple. He’d have to go shopping after work later.

Retrieving his Colt 1911 .45 ACP pistol from his night stand, he stuffed it into the back of his jeans. Putting his cell phone and motorcycle keys into his front pockets, he left his apartment, locking up for the night. As he stepped out, he saw Gerald, the building’s super, standing at the end of the hallway. His back was to Luther.

“Hey,” Luther called to him by way of casual hello. “Sorry about the rent this month, man. I’ll have it by the end of the week, definitely.“

Gerald didn’t move, though. In fact, his attire was a bit strange. Luther’s brow furrowed as he looked at the guy. The portly, middle-aged man was in his boxer shorts and a white tank top, and he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Rough night?” Luther asked him with a slight grin.

Nothing.

“Gerry?” Luther called to him. “Hey man, are you okay? Another argument with the missus last night?”

Gerald slowly started to turn around, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. What Luther saw almost made him lose his Red Bull and coffee all over the threadbare, army green hallway carpeting. Half of Gerald’s face was missing. Well, not missing… so much as hanging by a thread off the right side of his jaw. His eyes were a sickly, clouded, yellow color.

“Geezus…” Luther whispered, shocked by it. “Gerald, what the hell happened, man? You need to go to the hospital. Now.

Gerald’s jaw opened a little and a hissing sound escaped. Blood poured down his chin and onto the carpet.

“You want me to call 911 for you?” Luther asked. “You should put something on that, or at least-“

There was no time to say anything else. Suddenly Gerald woke up, as it were, and growled at Luther, running at him so awkwardly that he slammed his shoulder into the wall as he went. “Woah, Gerald, it’s just me!” Luther said, putting up his hands. The man still came at him though, and before Luther knew it, he was face to face with him, keeping him at arm’s length with his hands on his chest. “Easy! Calm down!”

Clearly, something was wrong with Gerald in addition to whatever had been done to his face. He was growling and snapping like an animal, clawing randomly, and not responding to anything Luther was saying. Luther decided it was best if he knocked the man out. Pushing him back with a hard strike of his flat palms to his chest, he watched Gerald stagger for a moment before striking him in the crook of his neck and shoulder, where there was a pressure point that should have dropped him. Gerald was unaffected.

“What the hell…?” Luther asked himself. Gerald came at him again and Luther backed away. Drawing his pistol, he aimed it at the man. “Back off. Come on, I don’t wanna shoot you, I just want you to calm down.” Gerald had no fear of the gun, however. He came at Luther yet again. “Back off!” Luther yelled loud enough to startle most people. It had no effect. He lowered the gun and fired a single shot into Gerald’s leg. He stumbled and fell, but did not appear to be in any pain. Luther watched in horror as the man began crawling toward him.

He backed far away and pulled out his cell phone. Dialing 911, he waited for an operator to pick up. Instead, he got an automated message. “All of our operators are currently handling cases. One will be with you as soon as-” Luther ended the call. “You gotta be kiddin’ me,” he said to himself in frustration. He heard sirens, though. Ambulance and fire. And there was the smell of something burning on the air.

That was when he heard shots fired downstairs. Close. Real close. Some kind of automatic firearm. A big one, too. His instincts were telling him that something was going on, but as to what it was, he had no idea. Returning to his apartment, he got an old beat up backpack and stuffed ammunition for his pistol into it. Next he grabbed the fire poker he kept by the door. He didn’t have a fire place, but he liked the weight and feel of an iron poker if push came to shove. He was good with his hands, but sometimes more force was needed. Luther liked to be prepared. He picked up a thin flashlight he kept by his bed. Lastly, he got his combat knife and stuffed it into his boot. By the time he got back out to the hallway, Gerald was almost to him. He sidestepped to get around him.

“Sorry, buddy,” Luther whispered as he ran down the hallway and down the stairs. Pistol and flashlight in his hands, he shined the light down the stairs and aimed the gun where he could see. It was already getting dark outside at this hour. That might make it harder to determine what the heck was going on. Cautiously getting down to the second floor, and then to the ground level of his apartment building, Luther tried to stay quiet, not bothering the couple of residents he saw wandering the halls in a daze. If they were anything like Gerald, he did not want to engage them.

All sorts of strange ideas were going through his head. Bio-terrorism? Some kind of sudden illness? Gerald almost… well, he kinda looked like a damn zombie. Grow up, Luther. You’ve seen too many horror movies. They’re coming to get you, Barbara…The original 1968 Night of the Living Dead was Luther’s favorite horror movie, after all.

He stopped when he saw her, a young woman with a gun. A gun much bigger than his gun. He put his hands up. “Don’t shoot!” he said, but he was ready to run or fight at a moment’s notice. Something fishy was going on, and he didn’t trust anyone at the moment. “I’m just tryin’ to understand what’s happenin’ here. Take it easy…”

She looked upset, and barely able to hold that big gun of hers. She was holding it, though, and aiming it right at him. He could barely see her due to the survivalist flashlight she had mounted on the damn thing. It was shining right in his face.