Zombie Slayer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Written for BUnique's short story competition.

Submitted: April 20, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 20, 2013




I’m standing in the middle of the high street, apparently suited in a black cat suit, army style black boots, bullet proof vest and a black backpack. I am armed with two bloodstained machetes and I have a semi auto Beretta in a holster across my back. I have absolutely no memory of how I got here, nor why I seem to be taking on the appearance of Lara friggin Croft (lacking the big breasts of course).

 As I take a deep breath I take in my surroundings... Utter mayhem is how I’d describe it, shop windows smashed in, cars smashed up (some on pavements) and completely abandoned, torn fleshy blood filled limbs strewn everywhere, dried bloody puddles on the floor and spatters galore... utter fucking carnage.

I look at my reflection in what’s left of the florist window; taking in my appearance I try to trigger some sort of memory. That’s when I see it, a bloodied wound on the side of my head. ‘What the..?’ touching it hurts like hell.

I step back into the street and only do I begin to realise, I’m alone... Its eerie quiet; like a sort of ghost town. We must be in the middle of some sort of War, and I'm really hoping there is a ‘we’ cause if not I’m screwed.  So, War... Dead people... Blow to the head at some point, which caused me blacking out.

I decide that I need to find someone and get some clearer answers. Walking though the High Street I’m rather exposed, yet find myself feeling very aware of my surroundings and prepared for anyone that might come at me.

I take a left at the end of the street and that’s when I see it, a Police Station. With a sigh of relief and an almost smile on my face I think ‘thank fuck for that’, surely someone here can help me. As I step inside, I know instantly that there are no answers in here. Worse than outside, this police station is a bloodbath and walking through it ‘my shoes sticking to the floor with every step that I take’ I lose all hope... it’s just too quiet, that’s when I hear it a raspy, course, slow deep breathing.  I search the offices until I find one of the officers lying face down on the floor, bloodied and battered but still ‘HE IS BREATHING’!

‘‘Everything is going to be fine officer’’ I say as putting my machetes away (knowing that I’ll be needing both hands to lift this poor bloke up). I bend down and use both hands to turn the officer over at which point he is wriggling a bit, in the first second I glance at his badge ‘Officer Brady’ and then I glance at his face.

I was barely able to take in his gaunt white complexion with white mist filled empty eyes surrounded by deep black shadows before his exposed blood filled jaw snapped aggressively like a rabid dog toward my face with only millimetres to spare.

 Luckily I reacted quickly (god only knows how) I pushed him back to the ground using my left hand and holding this monstrosity down with my left boot I drew my machete form my right side, raising my machete above my head I slammed down on its neck, providing a nice clean cut and a shower of blood upon myself.

 Standing, I wipe the blood from my face using my hand and wipe it off upon my trouser leg. I need to move on, try to find someone... anyone. An hour or so later after a cautious walk, I come across a hospital, St Georges Hospital to be precise it was more or less a similar scene to the High Street.

  I decide to take the side entrance (Maternity Ward) so as not to draw attention to myself... I mean I don’t  know what I’m walking into here.

 It could be another situation like the police station but on a larger scale with more living dead... it could be that survivors are camping here in which case I don’t know where I stand. Would they recognise me? Would they welcome me? Or would I be considered a liability?

 As I enter the corridor that leads to the maternity ward... it is empty, I mean not only is there not one single person in sight but... no appearance of panic, no blood, no torn limbs, no walking dead and not a single living person.

 I continue forward down the corridor until I reach the lifts, for some strange reason I feel a strong pull toward them. I decided to get in one and take it to the second floor and once there, still nothingness... I’m feeling more uneasy than where I first stood with lack of memory, lack of knowledge.

 I take a right and walk down the corridor on this floor and I find myself standing at the door of the Critical Care unit. As I open the door and step inside a gust of wind and light blows toward me.

 It’s all normal in here, completely normal... doctors, nurses, patients, visitors and NOISE!

 I remember... I know who I am. Suddenly I hear a panic of people in a room to my left, ‘’quickly everyone, she’s gone into cardiac arrest’’.  

 A woman with soft brown hair come running out holding her hands to her face whilst crying hysterically... My mother... 

 I gulp trying to hold back the queasy feeling that has washed over me and peer into the room where I see myself covered with tubes, surrounded by doctors... I have a bloodied wound on my head.

 I sit down next to my mother for a while when a doctor approaches her,’’ I’m sorry Mrs Downing there was nothing more we could do...’’ she screams her cries and falls to her knees ‘’Why? Why? Why did she have to be so stupid? She was only 16 for god’s sake’’.


Ten Years Later

 Standing outside of the hospital a gentle breeze blowing through my hair, still surrounded by the blood and gore...

 I remember I was Katie 16 year old student with outstanding school grades, many friends and a love for gory zombie movies (the gorier the better)...

 If only I hadn’t had that wild side, If only Danny hadn’t dared me to jump from the first floor science room window onto the grass bank, if only I hadn’t been stupid enough to take on that dare and fail miserably. I could have gone on to be a successful film director or famous author.

 Instead of living out my dream, I have to live in it forever alone. I don’t know why I haven’t come across any living or why there are only the walking dead.

 As for being stuck in this dream... Nightmare... Limbo?  I have no idea why... but as the years go on the one damn thing that keeps me going is that I am determined to find my way out!

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