Ryan Cecere's Blog
October 25, 2016
THE NELSON FILES: EPISODE 3 "BURN" EXCERPT
We are closing in on Halloween. The third episode in THE NELSON FILES horror/fantasy series is set to release soon!
Here is a FREE Excerpt from the next episode. Be sure to follow me on Twitter (@rcthomaslive) for updates and more!
EPISODE #3 "BURN"
New Rochelle, New York—November 2, 2015
Kelvin loosened his tie, a black-and-white plaid. The blasting heat in the building beat the freezing temperatures outside—below thirty with light falling snow in the beginning of November meant (to him) that it was going to be a long winter. A time of year he never looked forward to. He disliked having to bundle up in scarfs, knit hats and bulky jackets just to keep warm; he preferred the spring time, it wasn’t too hot or too cold. He got to wear his many button down shirts, and didn’t require a jacket when leaving his apartment unless it rained.
He glanced down at his watch. The period was ending.
“Five more minutes, class,” he said to his students whose faces were dug into their tests.
A rattle off to his side forced his eyes to wandered to the sound: a pencil had dropped off his desk. He reached down, picked it up, and when he lifted himself back into his chair, Lucy stood before him, test in hand.
Lucy enjoyed Mr. Moore’s science class, more than a student should. She enjoyed looking at him more. She thought he was an attractive man of thirty-two, a man who jogged and hit the gym five times a week, and had a certain charm about him that brought a smile to her face whenever he looked at her—and he looked at her quite often, as she did with him.
“All finished, Mr. Moore.” Handing him her test, she batted her eyes.
Accepting the test, and returning her stare with a smile, revealing perfectly white and straight teeth: “Thanks, Lucy.”
Lucy wanted to leap over the desk and lock lips with him. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and returned to her desk, knowing they could do that during lunch period. Kelvin stared at Lucy’s firm buttocks. She wore leggings and a New Rochelle Huguenots sweater with pink converse. Kelvin let out a small laugh through his nostrils and started a pile for the tests on the edge of his desk.
Lucy’s test moved under Kelvin’s fingers. He pulled his hand back, glancing down, brows pinching together. The paper moved two inches to the left. Bewildered, he watched as the paper moved another inch, then another. Thinking a draft somehow managed to seep into the room, he watched on.
Soon the paper flew off his desk and into the air. A gust of wind filled the classroom, a cold gust. Papers began flying, pens and pencils falling off desks.
Students watched in awe, chatter buzzed.
Kelvin pushed out from his chair and stood. “Okay, everyone. Just stay calm.”
Was he trying to keep them calm, or himself?
With the windows closed and latches locked, and the heater on, he assumed there must’ve (a wooden shelf containing textbooks lifted off the ground in the back of the classroom...) been an issue with the A/C unit that he wasn’t notified about (...and flew across the air as if shot from a catapult and rammed into the smart board; splitting it down the center, the crack appeared like an upside down Y).
Students jumped to their feet, hurrying for the door; their belongings abandoned. One of the students tugged on the knob; it refused to budge (if it had a mind of its own, it’d say something like this: you are mine, and all are doomed!). Now, the students were in an uproar. Kelvin tried to calm them down, but (lights flickered) they wouldn’t pay him any mind.
“What the hell...” Kelvin muttered.
A chubby kid with glasses and too much sweat under his armpits backed away from the flock of his petrified classmates. Kelvin noticed. The boy’s eyes were fixated on something, something on the glass window that had a view into the hallway.
Written, and appearing in blood, were the words:
you will pay
Kelvin’s skin crawled, and his tongue felt heavy, heavy enough that he feared he might swallow it. His heart jumped to his throat. And, for just one short glimpse, he could have sworn to have seen a girl (her hair long and black, matted to her face, hiding her features; she wore a white dress... and her skin looked burned, but he couldn’t tell for sure) behind him. He blinked, turned, she was gone.
He gulped.
The lock clicked, door opening, and the students wasted no time in stampeding out, down the halls, shouting and screaming all sorts of nonsense. The chubby kid was last.
Kelvin, paralyzed with uncertainty, found the strength to turn. He hurried toward the door. Within arms reach, it slammed shut, clicked and locked.
It didn’t budge (mocking him).
His clammy palms slipped as he tugged and twisted the knob. That’s when he heard it, that’s when he heard the voice. It was a girl’s voice. Long, distance, and cold.
It said: “You... will... pay...”
He slowly turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. His lips dried up with false dehydration.
And there she stood. Still as a statue. Unnatural.
Fire blasted out from seemingly nowhere in one corner of the classroom, engulfing the room with an intense flame of red and orange.
Kelvin Moore was trapped inside...
...and he died instantly.
*Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed this excerpt! I am excited for the release of this episode as it was fun to write*
Here is a FREE Excerpt from the next episode. Be sure to follow me on Twitter (@rcthomaslive) for updates and more!
EPISODE #3 "BURN"
New Rochelle, New York—November 2, 2015
Kelvin loosened his tie, a black-and-white plaid. The blasting heat in the building beat the freezing temperatures outside—below thirty with light falling snow in the beginning of November meant (to him) that it was going to be a long winter. A time of year he never looked forward to. He disliked having to bundle up in scarfs, knit hats and bulky jackets just to keep warm; he preferred the spring time, it wasn’t too hot or too cold. He got to wear his many button down shirts, and didn’t require a jacket when leaving his apartment unless it rained.
He glanced down at his watch. The period was ending.
“Five more minutes, class,” he said to his students whose faces were dug into their tests.
A rattle off to his side forced his eyes to wandered to the sound: a pencil had dropped off his desk. He reached down, picked it up, and when he lifted himself back into his chair, Lucy stood before him, test in hand.
Lucy enjoyed Mr. Moore’s science class, more than a student should. She enjoyed looking at him more. She thought he was an attractive man of thirty-two, a man who jogged and hit the gym five times a week, and had a certain charm about him that brought a smile to her face whenever he looked at her—and he looked at her quite often, as she did with him.
“All finished, Mr. Moore.” Handing him her test, she batted her eyes.
Accepting the test, and returning her stare with a smile, revealing perfectly white and straight teeth: “Thanks, Lucy.”
Lucy wanted to leap over the desk and lock lips with him. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and returned to her desk, knowing they could do that during lunch period. Kelvin stared at Lucy’s firm buttocks. She wore leggings and a New Rochelle Huguenots sweater with pink converse. Kelvin let out a small laugh through his nostrils and started a pile for the tests on the edge of his desk.
Lucy’s test moved under Kelvin’s fingers. He pulled his hand back, glancing down, brows pinching together. The paper moved two inches to the left. Bewildered, he watched as the paper moved another inch, then another. Thinking a draft somehow managed to seep into the room, he watched on.
Soon the paper flew off his desk and into the air. A gust of wind filled the classroom, a cold gust. Papers began flying, pens and pencils falling off desks.
Students watched in awe, chatter buzzed.
Kelvin pushed out from his chair and stood. “Okay, everyone. Just stay calm.”
Was he trying to keep them calm, or himself?
With the windows closed and latches locked, and the heater on, he assumed there must’ve (a wooden shelf containing textbooks lifted off the ground in the back of the classroom...) been an issue with the A/C unit that he wasn’t notified about (...and flew across the air as if shot from a catapult and rammed into the smart board; splitting it down the center, the crack appeared like an upside down Y).
Students jumped to their feet, hurrying for the door; their belongings abandoned. One of the students tugged on the knob; it refused to budge (if it had a mind of its own, it’d say something like this: you are mine, and all are doomed!). Now, the students were in an uproar. Kelvin tried to calm them down, but (lights flickered) they wouldn’t pay him any mind.
“What the hell...” Kelvin muttered.
A chubby kid with glasses and too much sweat under his armpits backed away from the flock of his petrified classmates. Kelvin noticed. The boy’s eyes were fixated on something, something on the glass window that had a view into the hallway.
Written, and appearing in blood, were the words:
you will pay
Kelvin’s skin crawled, and his tongue felt heavy, heavy enough that he feared he might swallow it. His heart jumped to his throat. And, for just one short glimpse, he could have sworn to have seen a girl (her hair long and black, matted to her face, hiding her features; she wore a white dress... and her skin looked burned, but he couldn’t tell for sure) behind him. He blinked, turned, she was gone.
He gulped.
The lock clicked, door opening, and the students wasted no time in stampeding out, down the halls, shouting and screaming all sorts of nonsense. The chubby kid was last.
Kelvin, paralyzed with uncertainty, found the strength to turn. He hurried toward the door. Within arms reach, it slammed shut, clicked and locked.
It didn’t budge (mocking him).
His clammy palms slipped as he tugged and twisted the knob. That’s when he heard it, that’s when he heard the voice. It was a girl’s voice. Long, distance, and cold.
It said: “You... will... pay...”
He slowly turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. His lips dried up with false dehydration.
And there she stood. Still as a statue. Unnatural.
Fire blasted out from seemingly nowhere in one corner of the classroom, engulfing the room with an intense flame of red and orange.
Kelvin Moore was trapped inside...
...and he died instantly.
*Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed this excerpt! I am excited for the release of this episode as it was fun to write*
September 9, 2016
THE PLAGUE: DAY ZERO Returning Soon...!
For those of you who don't know about THE PLAGUE: DAY ZERO, is a zombie series. It's first edition was a short 10-12K word story—a prologue (really) to introduce the characters and story of the first novel length book in the series.
Things have changed. A new cover was designed, and a new draft is being worked on that is longer, better edited and hopefully a better read overall.
I am unsure (at this time) when the SECOND EDITION will be released, but I do know I will get started on it soon (as I am currently working on my own failure of a novel at the moment, ha-ha).
My guess will be: Early 2017, possibly by February or March, April the latest depending on when my ass gets cracking on those words.
For more updates, follow and add me on here. Also you can follow me on Twitter: @rcthomaslive
Things have changed. A new cover was designed, and a new draft is being worked on that is longer, better edited and hopefully a better read overall.
I am unsure (at this time) when the SECOND EDITION will be released, but I do know I will get started on it soon (as I am currently working on my own failure of a novel at the moment, ha-ha).
My guess will be: Early 2017, possibly by February or March, April the latest depending on when my ass gets cracking on those words.
For more updates, follow and add me on here. Also you can follow me on Twitter: @rcthomaslive
July 11, 2016
FREE Short Story — 1:02 A.M.
Hello, writing world! Here is a short story I wrote back during the winter or early spring of 2016. The story idea came to me one night when I came home from work at one in the morning, having a late night snack before bed. It sort of creeped me out, so I decided to make a short story from it. Here it is, and hope you all enjoy!
1:02 A.M.
by Ryan Cecere
It was mid-summer, my room a scorching hot mess making it nearly impossible for me to sleep as I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. I heard a faint sound that night coming from the kitchen; a sound like a wooden chair being dragged along the floor. I must’ve been the only one in my house to hear the noise, no one else seemed to have woken up—just me.
Looking at the clock on my nightstand, the time read: 1:02 a.m. Slipping out of my bed I peeked out my door into the kitchen, just slightly enough for what little light that was present to pierce through into my room and split the darkness.
There, sitting down at the table with his back facing me—and, nearly scaring me half to death—was my brother.
Oh, I thought. He’s just getting back from his overnight shift. But I didn’t hear the front door open or close? Strange . . .
I didn’t say a word to him, and neither did he to me, as I went straight into the bathroom. When I came out, after rinsing my face and hair with cold water, walking passed him I noticed a blank stare in his pale blue eyes, and a sudden faint smell like decay fill the room—it came as quickly as it had faded. He had a spaced out look as he dipped his cookie into his glass of milk and chewed.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
It was certainly odd, to say the least. But it wasn’t until I closed my eyes—hoping to fall asleep fast—when they shot back open, and I realized (staring up at my ceiling, in pitch dark) that it hit me like a bolt of lightning
My brother!
My brother had died over two years ago . . . at the kitchen table, choking on the same cookie he was now devouring.
I heard a loud thud! come from the kitchen, followed by gagging and coughing and choking. My skin crawled and my face burned with utmost terror. Water filled my eyes as I built up the courage to spring out of bed. The door banged against the wall as I swung it inward, toward me, surely waking Mom and Dad.
The chairs were neatly pushed under the table, with no evidence of cookies and milk. The table was clear. Just how it was after dinner. My brother’s body was gone, too!
My parents came into the kitchen, asking me why I was up so late and causing so much noise; what I have been doing. I wasn’t able to bring myself to speak.
From that day on I wasn’t able to sleep in my house peacefully . . .
END
1:02 A.M.
by Ryan Cecere
It was mid-summer, my room a scorching hot mess making it nearly impossible for me to sleep as I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. I heard a faint sound that night coming from the kitchen; a sound like a wooden chair being dragged along the floor. I must’ve been the only one in my house to hear the noise, no one else seemed to have woken up—just me.
Looking at the clock on my nightstand, the time read: 1:02 a.m. Slipping out of my bed I peeked out my door into the kitchen, just slightly enough for what little light that was present to pierce through into my room and split the darkness.
There, sitting down at the table with his back facing me—and, nearly scaring me half to death—was my brother.
Oh, I thought. He’s just getting back from his overnight shift. But I didn’t hear the front door open or close? Strange . . .
I didn’t say a word to him, and neither did he to me, as I went straight into the bathroom. When I came out, after rinsing my face and hair with cold water, walking passed him I noticed a blank stare in his pale blue eyes, and a sudden faint smell like decay fill the room—it came as quickly as it had faded. He had a spaced out look as he dipped his cookie into his glass of milk and chewed.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
It was certainly odd, to say the least. But it wasn’t until I closed my eyes—hoping to fall asleep fast—when they shot back open, and I realized (staring up at my ceiling, in pitch dark) that it hit me like a bolt of lightning
My brother!
My brother had died over two years ago . . . at the kitchen table, choking on the same cookie he was now devouring.
I heard a loud thud! come from the kitchen, followed by gagging and coughing and choking. My skin crawled and my face burned with utmost terror. Water filled my eyes as I built up the courage to spring out of bed. The door banged against the wall as I swung it inward, toward me, surely waking Mom and Dad.
The chairs were neatly pushed under the table, with no evidence of cookies and milk. The table was clear. Just how it was after dinner. My brother’s body was gone, too!
My parents came into the kitchen, asking me why I was up so late and causing so much noise; what I have been doing. I wasn’t able to bring myself to speak.
From that day on I wasn’t able to sleep in my house peacefully . . .
END
July 10, 2016
The Nelson Files: Episode #1 "Home" FREE-SUNDAY 7/10/2016
Are you a fan of shows like Supernatural, and X-Files? Try reading an episodic supernatural-thriller/horror series about three paranormal specialists who risk their lives to save others, fight the forces of evil and vanquish the things that go bump in the night: ranging from ghosts, monsters, and their own personal demons.
It is FREE as of 7/10/2016, and is JUST $0.99 per episode!
Go to http://www.amazon.com/author/ryancecere for more
Episode #2 is set to be released in October 2016
The Nelson Files: Episode #1
It is FREE as of 7/10/2016, and is JUST $0.99 per episode!
Go to http://www.amazon.com/author/ryancecere for more
Episode #2 is set to be released in October 2016
The Nelson Files: Episode #1
