Short Unfinished Zombie Story

“An outbreak. An infection. The wrath of God. Each theory is as vague and unexplained as the last. One thing is for certain; if you get bit or even scratched, you’ll turn into one of them. “

            These words seeped through the dingy hospital walls, resonating its ghostly echo of a deceased news reporter. Upturned operating tables and surgical tools lay sprawled upon the dusty tiles, marred further by crusted blood. The dim overhead lights flickered feebly, the sickly tones of pale green staining the halls.

            Nick gently edged his way across the ground, the broken glass crunching against his sneakers. He paused at every claw marked door, nudging them slightly open with his foot to peer in. A putrid smell greeted him with every room, causing the boy to cram his knuckles against his teeth, making sure not to vomit. Gripping his kitchen knife murderer-style, he pressed on through the winding hospital floors.

            Taking a break, Nick sat down wearily. He rummaged through the pockets of his jeans and flipped out a phone. Nick stared longingly at the phone background, a snapshot of his family gathered around the dinner table. It hasn’t been more than two days since he last saw them, locked in the basement for protection. Looking at the photo reminded Nick why he was out here in the first place: a search for fresh food for his family.

            Suddenly, a prolonged scream pierced through the empty building, palpable with fear. Nearly dropping his weapon, he raced towards the source, pounding his feet across the grungy floor. The blood-curdling scream intensified in volume as Nick finally found the room it came from. Tackling the wooden door aside, his eyes took in the appalling scene.

            A black teenager, perhaps the same age as Nick, was shrieking in terror as he backed up in the corner of the room away from his assailant. The pursuer shambled towards the frightened boy in uneven steps; it’s arms drooping down, eyes rolled back in his head, accompanied by crimson dripping from his gaping mouth. Nick stood frozen in fear as the ghastly pockmarked figure reached out towards his victim. As the supernatural closed in on his prey, the black boy ceased his cries and looked straight at Nick. His trembling lips attempted to form words of desperation.

            “Help.”

            Shaken out of his stupor, Nick took two quick strides behind the undead. He grasped the abomination’s ragtag clothing, shoving the fiend to the ground. Nick swiftly scrambled on top of the monster’s chest, subduing any movement of the arms by pressing his knees against its shoulders. He felt the hearty growl rumbling in its chest like a motor, it’s teeth exposed by the rotten gums. The beast gnashed his teeth, lunging his mouth forward to tear apart its new challenger. Nick inhaled sharply and plunged his knife home between the eyes of the undead. Black pulp erupted from the wound, showering Nick’s hands and blade.

            Nick twisted the knife for good measure before yanking it out from the skull. Aghast at the sight of blood, Nick crawled backwards away from the spewing body, letting his knife clatter upon the ground. Remembering the other boy, Nick glanced back to see if he was okay. The boy was gone.