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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1965916
A short simple Zombie story
You know how in movies they put that foggy special effect around the edges of the screen to show someone is drugged or not thinking clearly? I've always thought of those scenes as purely dramatic, license. I thought no one could possibly actually feel like that. That was until I just woke up. It took amazing effort for me to actually open my eyes. I blinked them open two or three time for them each time to be pulled close as if by a magnetic force. When finally after what seemed like hours of struggling with them to get them open, there was that cinematic foggy edged vision.

My whole body felt as if I were a marionette whose strings have been cut. I tried to walk but my legs weren't working right. What was going on? I let my legs crumble underneath me and sat back down. I was slowly getting control over my arms, my hands still were dangling without response, but arms were a good start. I sat there and tried to remember I was...

I was...

I was driving. Yes I was driving, when we.

We? Who was with me? Who is we? I grimace as I try to remember and rub at my eyes as if that will bring visions of what I need to see back to me. I pull my hands away from my eyes and stare at them. They curl and move. Okay so they are back online, this is progress. I squint at them. There is something wrong. Are they supposed to be brownish at the ends? I look at them as if I have never seen them before. No they aren't supposed to be that way I decide.


Amy? Who's Amy? Oh yes the other person in my we. The person I was driving with. My stomach rumbles. Hunger. I decide to try to get back up again and walk. I feel more stable now, although my left leg seems weaker. It's got that same brown splotchyness in the middle of my thigh. Blood, that's what it is, dried blood, like my fingers. Yes there is a wound on my leg. It's not bleeding any more, and it doesn't hurt so I might be okay, I'll have to go to the hospital.

She is my wife, Amy is my wife. We were going somewhere. We were going, going, yes to the beach for a week's holiday. Then there was smoke so much smoke, and I crashed. My hand touches the wound in my leg. Yes that happened in the crash, and then...

I look around. I can't see Amy anywhere, or the car. I am still on the road. Maybe I passed out? Maybe? Maybe Amy has gone for help, perhaps I should stay here. Maybe...

My stomach rumbles harder, It hurts, that's how hungry I am. I can't stay, I need to go forward, keep going. I walk as fast as I can limping a little from the unsteadiness. Running soon as the hunger builds I can smell something up ahead. Something. I can't recognize the thing walking towards me. I know it's edible, it's food. I can't help myself as I attack it. So hungry this animal I don't recognise. I attack it and I eat it's raw flesh. Part of me screams out that this is wrong.

So Hungry.

I continue to devour the sweet succulent flesh. I gnaw on the bones. Hunger fills me with as if I have never eaten. I continue to eat until something hard comes between my teeth. Something harder than bone. I spit it into my hand. It's a piece of metal, yellow and unique. It lays there so close to the ring on my finger. The one that matches it. The one that....

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