Flesheaters and Scumbags

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Story of 3 unlikely survivors and their quest to figure out what caused the zombie outbreak.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Flesheaters and Scumbags

Submitted: October 22, 2013

Reads: 94

Comments: 2

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Submitted: October 22, 2013



The End Of Jordan’s World

It was the day after the world ended. When people say the world ended, everyone thinks it means all humanity is gone. But that's not really the case. Your world, your own personal world, ends when everything you love, everything you care for, is destroyed. Jordan Belle stared at the bloody, dismembered bodies sprawled around her kitchen. She clutched her shot gun to her chest as she surveyed the whole scene. Her mother lay dead with her insides pulled out in sickening lumps, besides her Jordan's father was tossed to the side, slumping against the oven with two bloody stumps where his arms had been. Jordan's aunt was near the fridge her face and her lower body completely gone; Jordan's uncle was on top of the table, parts of his arms and stomach missing. The rest of the bodies were the zombies. Zombies that had a greenish tint to their decaying skin, open wounds that secreted a bloody pulpy substance, and eyes that looked like endless black holes. Soulless ugly bastards.

The coppery smell of blood was sickeningly strong.

Jordan squeezed her eyes shut and tried to piece together what happened the night before. It all started when Jordan heard her mother scream downstairs late yesterday evening. Jordan told her little brother Charlie to stay upstairs, and tiptoed down the steps quietly. She saw her uncle and father at the doorway trying to talk to a man, who they thought was just drunk. The man had groaned and began coming toward them, that's when her dad slammed the door. But it was too late. The bastards were at the back and front door, clawing to get in. They were under attack.

“Jesus fucking Christ Joey!” Her uncle had screamed at her dad. “What the hell are those things!”

“I don't know Ted. But they sure as hell aren't hurting us.” Joe went to grab his guns, being a war vet and a hunter definitely had its perks. He had handed everyone a shot gun, when he turned toward the stairs and saw Jordan he said: “You go upstairs, don't come back down!” With that he handed her a gun and pushed her up the stairs.

So she did, for all of ten minutes. It might as well have been a hundred years. Her thoughts were racing around, bumping into each other and tangled in a web of confusion. Her little brother Charlie was wide eyed and frightened. “Jor?” He had whispered. “What’s happening?”

“I…” Jordan looked down and gulped. “I don’t know,” She answered honestly, his little eyes were cloudy with fear. “But Charlie,” Jordan took his face in her hands. “I swear on my goddamn life I will protect you.”

A scream came from downstairs.

“Charlie, I have to go help.” Jordan stood up from her little brothers bed and turned to the door. Charlie caught her arm.

“Jordan, please don’t go.” He whispered, his baby blue eyes were filled with tears. “I’m scared.”

“Chuck…” she kissed his head. “I will protect you but I have to help. Stay in here.”


She ran downstairs. Running into the kitchen she saw about 10 zombies ripping apart her aunt, blood sprayed on the fridge. Jordan aimed and fired at one of the zombies, took out a chuck of his head. Decaying brain matter the color of a spoiled plum slopped out of the side of his…hers…its head. It turned to Jordan bearing its jagged and rotten teeth. It hissed and began coming near her. Another shot went off and the zombie dropped, Joey smiled a weary smile at his little girl. “NO YOU GODDAMN BASTARDS TAKE ME!” Ted screamed as he shot blindly into the crowd of them. His blind shots took out two of the ten. Jordan could hear her aunt’s bloodcurdling screams as she died. Once the monsters were done with her aunt they turned their attention to Jackie, her mom, and Ted.

What she remembered next was a scream from upstairs. Her brother. She ran up the stairs two at a time, she saw a single zombie wondering through the hall, she shot it in the back of its skull. It dropped to its knees and died. She kicked it in the stomach for good measure. It was dead…er more dead then it was before. After she checked every room, there was no sign of her little brother. That's when she started crying. She sat on her little brother’s bed and just cried. She promised him she’d keep him safe, she swore on her life. Gazing at the shot gun in her hands, it was her fault that her little brother is …gone. She put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. No ammo. What her fucking luck. She started crying again. Her fucking brother was dead and it was all her stupid fault. After a minute she pulled herself together and went into her parent’s room to grab more shotgun ammo.

In the kitchen her uncle lay dead on the table, blood was everywhere. There were only 2 zombies left, her mom was bleeding out rapidly as one of the zombies finished her off. Joey, who only had one arm now, shot the one zombie. It crumbled to the ground. The last zombie viciously ripped off Joey’s other arm. While the zombie gnawed on it, Joey sank to the floor, he was almost dead. Jordan's eye twitched, her father... without thinking Jordan aimed the shot gun and fired, blowing off the zombies head, it fell to the ground, dead. “Daddy.” Jordan said desperately trying to hold in his blood.

“Jordan…” He whispered, there was small trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. “The..book..in my desk.”

“What?” she whispered. Was he losing his mind from the blood loss?”

“My girl,” He kissed her forehead. “Fight till you die.”

And with that he died.

Jordan opened her eyes, and realized she was crying. She hastily wiped away her tears, feeling as if her father could hear her crying and was telling her to stop. Feeling numb, and tired, Jordan stood carefully trying not to slip on all the blood. Jordan grabbed all the guns from the room and headed into the den where her father kept his safe. Walking into the den Jordan was sickened at how normal everything looked. You would have never of guess that in the next room there were dismembered figures thrown about. The safe was open. Ammo and guns were packed into it, along with some cash, and an army styled backpack. Jordan didn't know exactly what her plan was but she was sure as hell not staying there. After she loaded up the backpack she decided that, as a tribute she would take one personal item of everyone in her family. Using all the strength she had left she climbed up the stairs, when she got to her parents room she stopped for a second and willed herself to wake up from this nightmare. Her heart sank when she finally completely realized, this is reality.

She stood in her parent’s room now. Her mother was a neat freak, which Jordan thought was a twisted sense of irony considering her death was the messiest. Jordan found herself looking at a framed photo of her family. Joey was holding Jackie by the waist, smiling broadly, and Charlie was holding Jordan's hand. They were at the beach. Jordan had taken Charlie really deep into the ocean that day. So deep when a wave came Charlie's sandy blonde hair would disappear under the waves and Jordan would be a little paranoid until she saw his head pop up again. That was last summer, Charlie was eight, Jordan was sixteen. Her birthday was the next day. They all looked so happy. It made her sick. Not only cause now her whole family was dead but because of…ugh she was too tired to think about that now. For a split second she tried to remember who took that picture... she was pretty sure it was some relative she only met once. She broke the frame and took the photo, folded it into a square and put it into a small pocket in the book-bag. She also took her mother’s necklace, the antique one that her mom would have given her on her 18th birthday, which was only in a couple of months. She took three things of her fathers, his flask that he gotten overseas, the one he drank out of when he was thinking about the people he killed. For his country, of course. His leather jacket, the one with all the army and hunting badges on it. She walked over to his desk, the book in his desk. She opened the main drawer. Stapler, pencils, scissors, playboy…ew, gum, salted nuts, and a black leather bound book. Jordan contemplated reading it now, she decided against it, it could wait and she couldn’t focus.

Walking out of her parent’s room she walked into hers, she decided if she was going to be fighting zombies or whatever the hell was next for her, she couldn't fight in flannel pajamas with cats on them. She changed into her black leather stretch pants, a tank top and combat boots. She shoved another change of clothes into her bag and shrugged on her dads leather jacket. A few moments later she found herself in her brother's room. Charlie. Jordan got furious for a moment and punched a mirror, how could she let something happen to him? God... She looked around, what should she bring along with her for tribute to her little brother? A few moments passed and she decided on the stuffed tiger Jordan had gotten him when he was born. The one he slept with every night. She looked on and under his bed. No tiger.

Jordan shook her head, it'd probably kill her to even see the stuff animal anyway. So she grabbed a little scrapbook that Charlie and her made for their parents and took that instead. She walked back downstairs and didn't even glance at the carnage in the kitchen instead she took the rosemary beads that her dad kept wrapped around the doorknob, muttered “God have mercy.” and walked out the door.

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