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The sound of a glass smashing wakes me up. I rub my eyes and lean up in my bed. I can hear footsteps coming from down the hall. Strange, since I live alone. I reached under my pillow and grabbed my 45 from underneath it. Slowly, I got out of bed. I was wearing my usual pyjamas; a singlet and track pants. I paced slowly towards the door. I peek down the hallway ever so carefully. What I see is horrifying. There are several people walking down the hallway in the opposite direction to me. I was just about to yell out towards them, but then I hear a grunt coming from the room not three feet away from me. I quickly dash back into the room, looking for anything to hide me. The cupboard. I move my feet towards it carefully, and creep into it. I close the door just slightly so I can still see out of a crack.
I check the ammo in my 45. Five bullets left. My mind races as I think of the many ways I get out of the house alive. I can go through the window in the bathroom, but getting there is the hard part. There are many of them between me and the window. I can hear their footsteps and I’m grateful that I always keep a gun under my pillow. If I can’t get to the window, I could use the server’s entrance. It’s almost foolproof. I think it’s my best bet.
I peek through the crack of the cupboard in which I am hiding in. There aren’t any in the room at the moment. I push the door of the cupboard open slightly, but it creaks. I tense and hear the footsteps stop. Grunts are coming from the hallway and the smell is revolting. I slowly close the cupboard door enough so that I am not seen but enough so I can still see into the room. The footsteps pick back up and they are coming closer. I ready myself and hold the gun the way my father taught me; firm and steady. And then I see one enter the room.
He would have to be the ugliest person I have seen in my life. His skin was pale, almost white but his eyes were red and bloodshot. There was something dripping out of his mouth. It was black and thick. As soon as he entered, the room’s smell got worse. I wrinkled my nose and resisted the urge to hold it closed, as any form of movement could either move the cupboard or make a noise. His hair was greasy and stained with something red. Blood? There was no way to be sure. He didn’t walk; it was more like he stumbled. One of his knees didn’t straighten and was kinked forward, explaining the strange posture and the way he walked.
The man walked over to my bed put his hand on the covers, leaving a black handprint on my sheet. He then grunted over to my pillow and picked it up. I made a face as he rubbed it against his face, smelling it, licking it. I opened my mouth and gushed out air, revolted. Bad move. He has the ears the cat. He stared at the cupboard and narrowed his eyes. If he came over here, I might be able to knock him unconscious and make a run for it. Shooting him would not only cause the others to come into the room, but it would also use a bullet, and I was low. I kept my eyes on him, not daring to blink as he stumbled over in my direction.
I carefully leaned my back against the side of the cupboard, making sure it doesn’t creak. I couldn’t see out of the crack in this position, but I saw the light in the cupboard disappear, so he must be right there. The smell confirmed it. I held my breath and closed my mouth tightly. I could hear his breathing and his grunts. I still kept my hands firmly on the Pistol and braced myself as I saw his fingers creep within the crack in the cupboard.
Then there was a gun fire. But it didn’t come from my gun, or anyone’s in the room. After the shot, I heard very loud screams and footsteps going in the opposite direction. I waited silently, but the man’s fingers crept out of the cupboard slowly. I then heard him wobble to the door and out of the bedroom. I took a deep breath in and made a face, tasting that awful smell on my tongue. More shots were fired and more screams and footsteps. The footsteps were running. I looked through the crack and into the room. Through the open door to my bedroom I could see at least five of them running down the hall. Faintly, I could hear a human voice.
“Take that you ugly hobo!”
My eyes widened and I burst out of the cupboard, gun at the ready. At the bedroom door, I saw no one so I ran into a sprint down the hall. At the end there were many of those things, sprinting down the stairs. One turned around and saw me. I readied my body and ran towards him. He ran back at me. I grabbed hold of the light on the right wall and flung my body into the air towards him, kicking him in the face. As soon as he went down, I used the handle of my gun to hit him in the temple. I didn’t have time to make sure he was dead; four more were running my way. I aimed my gun at them and fired. I hit one right in the head and then shot again, which hit another one in the shoulder. Both went down, and the other two tripped over them, falling to the ground too. I didn’t have time to think, so I ran, jumping over all four of them. Something grabbed my foot and I went down, landing on my knee and using my hand to keep myself up. I turned, aimed my gun and fired at the one who grabbed my foot. Once she let go, I got up and ran.
Thinking in my head, I counted how many bullets I should have left. Two. That’s not enough. When at the top of the stairs I stopped and looked down. At least fifteen of them were surrounding two people. Normal people. One was a small girl, very faerie-like and the other a tall, built man. The girl saw me and yelled.
“Tony! A girl!”
Tony looked up at me and kicked one down to the ground, opening a passage. Suddenly, I felt something grab at me from behind and spin me around. The man pushed me against the wall and snarled. Out of instinct, I lifted my leg and kicked him right between the legs. He let out a groan and fell to the ground. I aimed and fired. One more bullet. By this time, Tony was making his way up the stairs, his two machine guns blazing towards some that were closing in on him.
“How many bullets you got left?” he screamed at me.
“One.”
So fast I wasn’t sure what was going on, he flipped one of his guns and threw it at me, without even looking at me. I caught it with ease and dropped my 45 on the ground, not needing it anymore. Tony was covering the ones that were following him up the stairs. I got a good hold on my gun and leapt over the banister, kicking it with my foot to give me an extra boost. My feet made a thud as I landed safely on the carpet. I quickly got into position and began shooting at the many that were surrounding the young girl. She seemed to be enjoying herself.
“Die! Die! Diediediediedie!”
Before we knew it, they were all on the ground and we were the only ones that stood. I still had my gun raised and aiming at all the openings into the room. Tony was at the bottom of the stairs, just three feet away from me. The girl was near the front door to the house, but not close enough so that anything could jump her. I turned to look at Tony. He returned my glace.
“We should go. Before more of them come,” he said.
I nodded and turned back to the girl. Behind her, there was a figure of a woman. But she wasn’t a woman anymore. Before I could open my mouth to yell “Look out!” the girl had pulled the trigger and hit it right in the forehead. It fell onto the floor, but the girl didn’t move from her position. We all stayed silent for another moment, listening. I couldn’t hear anything, so I heaved a sigh. Tony kicked a dead one out of the way and crept towards the window.
“They’re coming. We have to go.”
He quickly turned and headed towards the back door. The girl began to follow him. I stopped in my tracks.
“Wait.”
They both turned and looked at me as if I was crazy.
“We have to go. Do you want to die?” the girl said.
I ignored her and looked at Tony intently. “What’s going on?”
They both looked at each other. Then back at me. Tony looked straight into my eyes as he replied.
“It’s the Apocalypse.”
- by Nuanen Vanyali |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/02/2010 |
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![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Armegeddon [Book 1][Chapter 1]
- Artist: Nuanen Vanyali
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Description:
Dancing with the dead... has never been more fun.
Chapter one of my series 'Armegeddon'. It kind of jumps straight into the fighting because it's just a series about a bunch of people fighting for survial in a Z-Day world. It's like, one day it's normal and then you wake up and suddenly the world is ruled by Zombies. So enjoy and more soon. - Date: 07/02/2010
- Tags: armegeddon book zombie death
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Comments (2 Comments)
- claudine14 - 08/15/2010
- I LOVE THIS!!!! it is sooo good smile i cant wait to read more!!! ^_^
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- Richard Ray Taylor - 07/02/2010
- hm.........this is very good! and i like how you stick to the original idea of not calling them what they are like "that thing" or "one of them". its very good!
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