Day 206 Writing Short Stories

Trudge

Behind her came shuffle, then silence, then shuffle again. She knew what that sound meant. It was a shambler. From the sound of it, the zombie hadn’t yet spotted her. Its trudge was repetitive and confined. She glanced just in case behind her, and the small street between the tall oak trees at the luxury mansion cul-de-sac. The roads were empty. She knew they should be empty. There hadn’t been a breach for months now. But just notions didn’t keep you alive.

There was a driveway to one of the mansions not far from her, and the sound she was still hearing sounded like scraping against asphalt.

There was no calling the police. She was the first responder, so it was her duty to check. She had her walkie-talkie with her. She drew it from her leggings’ waist, and she pushed in the code, sending a silent alarm at the headquarters of their little community of survivors. She pushed into the woods, wishing that the day wasn’t already drawing to an end.

She slowly made her way through the trees, carefully stepping over branches and avoiding the driest fallen leaves. It was funny how silent you became when it was necessary. Sometimes she missed the sounds of the cities and the constant electric hum of devices. She wanted the opportunity to scream. She wasn’t sure when the last time she had screeched with joy or wailed with pain was. And there had been a lot to celebrate and a lot to cry over.

But those days were gone. She would never have them. There was only her breathing, her heartbeat, and the constant shuffle of feet. She took her blade out of the holster pinned to her lower back. It had felt too good to be able to run just for the joy of running. She had known it was too much to ask that this place would hold. That this place could be their sanctuary.

She closed in on the dirt ramp that led to the paved road. She crawled on her knees, marking the constant shuffling sound. Whatever was making the sound was trudging close. Circles, from the sound of it. She peered over the ditch and saw the shambler. It was alone. It was a woman, half of her cheek missing, wearing clothes she had worn when she had died. They were tattered and covered with old blood and grime.

She readied her blade.

The shambler still hadn’t noticed her.

She followed the protocol, checking the surroundings. There were no signs of other zombies. They usually came in packs. When she was sure there was just her and the zombie, she crawled slowly up the ramp, pushing to her feet as the zombie made her rounds, turning her back on her. She approached the zombie and launched at the shambler, taking her blade to the back of its skull.

The zombie turned, getting the blade stuck in its eye socket. That only made it let out a loud growl, forcing her to put distance between it and her. The zombie snapped its teeth in the air, trying to taste her, thrashing around, trying to get a hold of her.

It clearly didn’t see. That was why it had been making circles on the tarmac. It had been chasing itself.

She straightened her back and approached the zombie slowly, then yanked the blade out, avoiding its waving arms. She stepped aside, letting the zombie orient itself again, and then she pushed the blade in. The zombie dropped to the ground, its body jerking. She finished it with a few more hits and stood there watching it as she waited for the others to join her. They would have to find the hole in the fence or any other path that the zombie might have taken.

Name

A story about an old superstition: if you hear your name after midnight, it’s the devil calling you. A man hears his name, and he turns around…

Agoraphobia

An agoraphobic sees a man in a van approaching the neighbor’s kids. I wanted to skip this one for obvious reasons.

The prompts are from the book A Year of Creative Writing Prompts.

I only had enough focus to write the first one, and I skipped the other two. I got home late last night, and I have tried to revive after a short night’s sleep and a late night.

A few nights ago, I had a zombie dream. I used to have them every week, but now they come infrequently. I love zombie dreams. They are terrifying, but they are always full of action, and I usually have a good night’s sleep whenever I see a zombie dream. Now I’m off to watch a zombie movie.

Thank you for reading ❤ Have a day full of fun terror to make you feel alive and happy!