The thing in the hall

Alison shut her eyes hard and covered her face with her hands, forcing the image of the thing at the end of the hall out of her brain and silently repeating over and over again that such a thing could not exist. She was certain the apparition would be gone the moment she opened her eyes, but instead she saw with horror that it was now inches from her face.

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zombie hangover part 5

The five-day Monopoly marathon was over, there was still nothing to do, undead or otherwise, so I tried to get drunk; obliterated, actually. But when your blood no longer pumps and your stomach and liver and brain can no longer be flooded with vodka, you are doomed to an eternity of crushing sobriety, and that, in the end, is the worst part of being a living dead.

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Zombie hangover part 4

Unsure of what to do after the fever passed and we no longer hungered for human flesh and brains and blood, we broke out the Monopoly board. With no use for sleep, with no need to piss or shit, and with no desire for food of any kind, we played and played and played; three days later, I had hotels on the orange properties.

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zombie hangover

I refused to believe what I had become, or what I had done, until I found the cracked mirror on the sidewalk among the silenced wreckage once known as Derwood, Maryland. There I was, growling involuntarily, staring back at a gray-skinned fiend with milky green eyes, blood crusted around my cracked lips, and more of the red stuff soaking my formerly pristine white T-shirt.

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Nora stared at the grotesque statue embedded in the rough-hewn facade of the seaside fortress, transfixed by its hideous mouth frozen in a silent scream. As if offended by the tourist’s disgusted gaze, the stony monster who had once been still suddenly jutted out from the weather-beaten wall and with its blackened teeth took a bite of Nora’s face.

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The Grisly Terror

The coroner felt suddenly uneasy as she opened the door to leave the room full of freshly dead corpses awaiting autopsy. Turning around slowly, her heart stood still at the sight of all ten cadavers sitting upright on their tables, black body bags still zipped over their mangled, reanimated remains.

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(strange) bedfellow

The bed sunk on his side when he threw back the sheets and stumbled toward the bathroom. Time passed, some indeterminable number of minutes in the thick fog of her unencumbered sleep, and the bed sunk again when he got back in bed, breathing hard, smelling sour, and feeling different when her hand brushed the stranger’s.

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The Wake

Eight of them perched like grotesque leaves on the gnarled tree by the side of the road, and as Amy approached she began to regret the curiosity that had drawn her into the woods. Cradled in the skeletal roots of the tree lay the thing responsible for the congregation of flesh-eating birds: a bloated and rotting human corpse that was missing its face.

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Last One on the Train

Terri almost dropped her iPod on the floor when she woke up on the train after missing her stop and when she looked around the compartment, the only person she saw was a skinny man in a dark suit who was sitting in a seat across from her waving.

Terri would have waved back but the man was covered in blood and his severed head was resting in his lap.

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Rating: 7.4/10 (29 votes cast)