Zombies

Carmen's Sorrow

Folder: 
Camino

Lost in a wave of confusion, he stood, still gripping the crossbow tight as blood trickled down his arm in escape from the madness. Dizzy and weak, he could only gaze around at the dying chaos. Old faces, strange faces, those who'd become the mindless savage, all dying slowly, starving out; finally giving into the death that once drove them. Familiar buildings, Familiar streets, echoed the last cries of those who suffered the second death. Eyes that lost their soul seemingly long ago now closed forever, losing whatever light may have remained. He closed his own eyes.

Who has suffered the worse fate?

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The Calm Nothing

Folder: 
Camino

Something inside says to go back…

8:15 pm
The middle of nowhere

Into the eternal unknown, the world seemed to have vanished, to have died away, as nothing stirred within the hungry darkness. Except for an old sign that swung slowly above the filling station door, the chilling touch of death had left everything silent and still.

From beyond the distant unseen, dim lights crept across the age stained surface of the old tin, as it uttered in cold silence, Welcome.

Rachel’s eyes filled with hope.

I hope someone is here…

Only stillness came to greet, only the cold chill reached out. Nothing else seemed alive as the small car crawled to a stop among the ancient fuel pumps. As Rachel stepped out into the calm misery, a slight breeze picked up, covering her face with strands of long black hair as if to protect her eyes from the horrid sight of loneliness and despair. Even the dust swirling around her ankles held on in fear.

“Hello?” She asked out into the dark.

“Is anyone here?” She asked once again, hoping for someone’s answer.

Only the echo of her voice came back to answer, as the cold sting of dying wind greeted her ashen face with a numbing kiss.

Is Everything dead… is this all that’s left?

Clutching the black machete, Rachel gazed around, hoping to see someone, anyone who still remained. There had to be someone there who knew what was happening, someone alive. There had to be a living soul somewhere.

Whoever was once there, whoever was once a part of that place had long faded into the forgotten lonely. All that once was, was now gone; forever sealed in a coffin of forgotten memories and buried deep where the nameless suffer. Now, nothing more than lost voices, crying from a hopeless void, howls of the faceless dead echoed on the winds of desolation. She closed her eyes.

This place resonates with a heavy burden of sorrow…I hope their souls have found rest.

Upon the haunted remains, that frowned before her, a hideous whisper of fear and loneliness turned her eyes, numbing her to the bone with an icy breath as it gasped out from the black within. As the dying shadows reeled in panic beyond the dirt stained windows, the decayed old building grimaced in the horror of voiceless agony.

Is this how it all ends…is this how end?

“Is anyone here?” She asked into the open space, as she pushed the door open with a slow, fearful caution.

Under her feed, shards of glass popped and crunched. The heavy weight of something unseen, seemed to push against her, as if to beg her to turn away, yet something else guided her into the darkness; not just to hide from the howling on the wind, or to seek help, but something else; something she could not understand. Even in times of disaster and fear, curiously can get the better of us.

“Is anyone here?’ She called out again.

The lights popped and sparkled to life, buzzing as they cast their dim glow before the decay and cold nothing of dark serenity that festered. No life, no movement; nothing but the stagnant carcass of a dead establishment; left in a nameless grave to rot with the squirming lost.

“Hello?” She asked in a quiet desperation.

Over the mess of glass, her slender figure became broken as she stepped forward. In the distance, a security mirror, abandoned in the loneliness of a shadowy corner, frowned upon her passing reflection; its battered face, shedding tears of unseen of sorrow upon her.

Am I the only one here…the only one left?

Gazing upon a near wall, portraits of proud men, hung under the amber light, holding hands with the dancing shadows of souls since lost. Those people; who were they, where did they go? Where they still alive? In the reflection of her brown eyes, the tango of the dead continued on.

These great men…once proud and mighty above the dead at their feet…once loved and revered …now forgotten, faded from memory like the place they’ve abandoned…I wonder where they are now?

Down on her they watched with frozen smiles, their glory, once held as a light, now only a ghost; a remnant of memories passed away, hanging from the wall like the beasts they once hunted. She closed her eyes again

Death makes trophies of us all.

Tired from wondering through endless miles of nothingness, she calmly sat at nearby table, hoping to regain some sense of clarity, as she fought within her mind to stay awake. Just like that place, she felt alone and lost, helpless against something she could not see; against something that had devoured her warmth.

“This place must have been abandoned for quite some time?” She said to herself softly, as she swept her eyes over the silent chaos.”

Through the calm, an unseen madness seemed to linger, filling a void long left
lonesome and cold in its grave. The mess of shattered glass and scattered goods spilled at its feet, a sacrifice to the panic and mindless disorder which must have ensued. In the grip of fear, the mind loses its sense of logic.

“It’s everywhere.”

Holding an old, faded photo tightly, she nearly crushed it in her grip. Inside her eyes, a bitterness grew, waging war with the innocence, her soft complexion seemed to project. Necessity creates determination; determination creates survival.

I know you are still alive…don’t give up.

“Everything has been eaten away…those monsters out there…they’ve devoured everything.” Rachel softly spoke into the air.

Panic has a way of overtaking rational thought. In the madness of the unknown, it becomes a rabid monster, eating away everything that one holds close, leaving only a thoughtless corpse to lie within a grave of festering dread.

I will find you…

Suddenly, the window of silence was violently shattered, catching Rachel by surprise, as a faint sound grew in the unseen distance. Rising from the seat, she stood; looking, listening; hoping someone had came, or had come out of hiding.

“What was that?” She said to herself, as she nervously took the machete from the table.

Walking forward, she held the plastic handle of the blade with a grip only challenged by the cold sweat that bled from her palms. In a world where the accepted has been torn apart and faith has been crucified before the unknown, everything must be observed with a cautious trust, and nothing must be trusted.

Is someone here…someone alive?

Searching for the soft sound, she stepped lightly passed an old forgotten freezer, keeping unknown to the faint stir that lay beyond her sight, beyond the distorted reflection of her black skirt. Her frail image seemed to hover in the hazy glass, the expression of still caution wrapped in an ethereal glow.

Her thoughts filled with a grim relief. If she could find someone, anyone who still remained, perhaps they could help her. Only a living soul could offer comfort. A telephone would do her no good. Nothing would be waiting on the other end, nothing but the dreaded hush of a ghost’s whisper. There was no time to waste on the useless dead.

Where are you?

From its cross of rusted torture, a large wooden door cried down upon her, tears of admonition, begging in unheard terror to stay away. What lay on the other side? Would someone be there, or would the dead be waiting? At its feet, a soft light flickered, grabbing at her legs with tormented hands. The door opened slowly.

“Hello?” She asked softly, stepping into the unknown.

Under the spattered sparkle of a broken light, a sudden rush of death overwhelmed Rachel, twisting her stomach, as the heavy odor of rotted flesh overwhelmed her senses.

What happened here?

In the cold, motionless state of death, the darkened remains of a body sat alone in a corner of blood; the back of its head, a gaping wound, where once thoughts and dreams dwelled, now blown open, leaving only a stew of teeth, brains, and bone upon the wall for the dying hungry. In its mouth, the gun remained.

With each step forward, her heart pounded harder into her chest, drowning out the sudden thunder that rumbled in the distance. Pushing the blade into the sheath, her arms trembled as she neared the forgotten dead.

This poor man?

“There is no help for him now.” She spoke softly to herself. “His end came for him.”
In the blink of an eye, the world had gone dark. Bodies of those once living, were spread out like dead rats, left to the ruins of chaos. No salvation existed, for the vile wind of death had swept over, taking nearly every living thing with it, and in their place, leaving nothing more than the creeping faceless to wonder in the depths of turmoil and slow decay.

Life is so easily taken…gone in a single moment.

Standing over the rotting flesh of the dead man, she could not help but wonder. How did he end up here? Why did he take his own life? Was his life already gone? In her mind, thoughts and questions swirled, not only of the dead before her, but her own life, and the life of those she loved.

How much longer do I have?

Fear of the unknown had taken its hold on her. The growing anxiety began to fill her soul. There seemed to be no hope for anyone, not even those who chose to hide away from the thing that had come. She turned away.

There is no control over death…nothing can stop it from claiming us…why has this happened?

In her heart however, a desire still existed. A small part of her refused to give up and let death take her so easily. If she was going to die, it was going to be an old lady years from this horrible nightmare, warm in her bed; Not like this.

As Rachel stood, looking away, the soft squish of the ripened cadaver caught her attention, as it fell over. At its side, lay an old voice recorder, battered by time, yet unharmed by squirming maggots , or the blood that soaked through its torn flannel shirt. She picked it up.

What’s this?

Pushing the large, black button, it seemed to be collection of thoughts, journals into the abyss.

My brother, Billy took off for Eden city a few days ago to find his ex wife and daughter. Despite all the events going on. I had to chase after him. Older brother to the rescue again, like always. But I managed to get stuck here in this God forsaken station, in the middle of nowhere. What was I thinking…coming this far? They just came out of where, attacking us like savages, and my so called best friend left me here in his panic. Now I have no way to get out of here, unless someone comes along. It is too dangerous to walk these roads…no, I better just stay put. I have a few shells left, but no way would I make it out of here alive if those things decided to come back, and there is plenty of food and water. Someone will come along, eventually…I hope. Either way, my dear brother is on his own…good luck Billy. As for Joe…I hope they eat him…coward. September twenty-six, nineteen ninety six

I’m far from being out of food and water, but I hear their cries at night, and it is even worse in the day time…I’m tempted to just walk out of here…no run, but that would only make things worse. No one has come by here, since I got stuck here…somehow, I suspect no one will again. Too remote I guess. Either way, I’m screwed. Damn it Joe…why did you leave me here, you bastard. October second…anyone who finds this will know the year.

I feel like I’m going insane…I’ve been here far too long…God what do I do? Every little sound has me twitching…and I think they’re coming closer…the sounds are louder now. I can’t even walk outside without becoming paranoid…damn mountains. Doesn’t matter anyway…my brother is probably dead now, just as I fear I will be. This place has become my coffin. October ninth.

They are everywhere…there is no getting away from here now. I managed to board up the place as much as I could, but not before those mothers came crashing in on me…I took out as many as I could, but one of them bit me…I should have just walked out of here. I won’t go out like that…they won’t get me, I promise that. If anyone finds this and wonders why I’m leaving so many messages, just ask if you want to be forgotten. This will probably be my last, as the batteries are close to death now…sadly I’m not too far behind. Dam you Joe. October twelfth.

Pulling the small flashlight from her pocket, Rachel gazed in fear upon it, as the dimming light faded in and out of life. The sheath, holding the blade at her side, a reminder of things she’d rather forget.

“This isn’t going to be enough.”

I need everything I can to everything to survive this nightmare.

Slowly turning around, she walked back into the silent chaos, the need for necessities, playing on her mind, her only thoughts now on an unspoken mission; a voyage into the black unknown.

My fate won’t be his.

Grabbing a black leather duffel bag, she searched each shelf, behind every counter, behind every case, filling it with everything she would need for her descent into the madness. She knew nothing of the true danger before her, or the inevitable unknown that existed beyond the dark calm of those rotting walls, only that his survival rested in her hands.

Gripping the strap tightly in her hand, Rachel stood in front of the shattered door, looking out, gazing upon a hazy hilltop as a burst of lightening streaked across the distance, illuminating the once unseen. She held the photo tight, as each flash revealed the lost nothing, an empty spot where the haunted specter of something once stood. She vanished into the unknown.

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The Creeping Shadows of Chaos

Folder: 
Camino

I cheated Death…now it stalks me.

9:00 pm
The city of the weeping faceless

Into the night sky, fires of chaos burned. From beyond unseen lips of the rotting damned, ashes of the cremated, calmly fell down upon the lifeless remains of what was, silently floating down to cover those long since thoughtless and buried, those whom death had filled with the slow suffering of dark resurrection an agonizing hunger. On the cold wind, cries of pain echoed softly.

Myles’s eyes filled with despair.

No glimmer of hope remained; only the bones of a long dead paradise, a haven once covered with living flesh, now picked clean and forgotten; left to the shadows of timelessness, to the unseen that walk beyond the low burning fires of hell. The wind of suffering howled.

How did I survive…I should be dead.

Under each slow, heavy foot step, shards of glass popped and crackled as he staggered in a hazy stupor through the burned out remains of the old street. Out upon a world of maggots and worms, he gazed, a savage, cannibalistic world that had eaten itself to death, leaving only the putrid, dank air to stir within the void. No comfort reached out to him, no hand to ease the fears, only hopelessness surrounded him.

Everyone is gone now…nothing is left…

The city before him lay in ruin. The rubble of burning cars and trucks, and abandoned barricades; the smoke fleeing into the sanctuary of the eternal heavens. What was once a happy, living world had died away, becoming nothing more than a dark reminder of the day that devoured the living the soul.

The store fronts, the old sidewalks; no soul existed within their realms, only the deepest vacuum of space, of void where the once loved and highly regarded had long faded into the grave, and shivered in the cold ground with the squirming dead; their only comfort.

Each building had become nothing more than a hollow shell, a dead cadaver, where once, shiny glass beamed with a sweet glow of inviting words, allowing all to see within a wonderful world, but was now broken, giving way to the horrible grin of the deathly unknown.

Gripping the handle of the blood stained broad sword tightly, he pressed forward into the unknown, fighting as he stumbled against the rushing urge to run away and hide, to cower from the demons that wallowed in the shadows of torment, from the faceless who stalked him. Into his ears, something whispered. Turn back.

Even the face of the moon hid away, refusing to comfort him with its dark red arms, as it pulled the blanket of clouds over itself it terror. Life had been driven away from everything that once held onto it; or devoured.

In the isolation of death and sorrow, those who reside within themselves become as two minds, sharing the soul of a single body. Even when in the company of another, they keep their thoughts locked deep inside.

What if there are other’s still around? No matter…I have to worry about myself now.

Against the shiny surface of unbroken windows, the reflection of his large, muscular frame contorted and stretched, reaching out as if to grab something, anything that could give salvation from the creeping hungry. Within the space of his mind, images of dead chaos lingered. All things that once lived, now lay alone, lost somewhere beyond the reach of life. He stopped to gather his senses.

They’re coming…I can hear them in the distance. Scratching and clawing against anything in their way, just like rats…I have to find a place to hide…just for a little while to let them move on…I need sanctuary from this death that is stalking me…before I become what I fear most.

I can’t kill them all…I have to run to survive, hide to live…killing is only when I have to. I want out of this forsaken place.

Like the hand of withered of comfort, lights burned low, beaming out from the dead carcasses of stone and brick, reaching through the haze, reaching to him, as though to pull him into their arms; to protect him from the rabid ones who lurk beyond the light. Something caught his attention.

Berry’s Pub…why not.

Peering beyond the chasm of murky gloom, the cold comfort of a familiar old place became clear in the night. From the soft, flickering light above the door of the old pub, a low hum resonated, filling him with a dim hope. No life stirred within; no sounds of laughter, or footsteps, or pinging of glass, nothing beyond the dying light which faded in and out and of existence.

Maybe I can hide till daylight…

As he stepped up to the decaying remains of the long forgotten, only nothingness greeted him; no warm hand, no words of welcome. Only the chilling silence of a derelict institution welcome him to its door, as it whispered into his ear, Come in. Myles stared through the dusty window.

A place where only stillness exists…where the voice of life has long faded into nothingness…everything has been kissed by death…not one thing is safe…but what if?

“Hello…is anyone in there? He spoke through the glass as he grabbed the steel door handle. “Hello!”

Into the soft flesh of his hand, a stinging cold bit down, numbing his skin as it chewed with rabid delight. As if to keep him from the warm safety within, it gnawed to bone, eating away any feeling his hand once had. He pushed hard against the door.

It’s locked…Maybe the old side door is open.

Before him, the stone corridor stretched its arms wide. Beyond the small steps that lead into the bowls of the dark unknown, a cold, frightful wind began to flow, swirling, howling; crying out to him as it wrapped him within its numbing embrace. Into the mouth of the abyss, he found himself walking.

As though to keep him away, the dying remains of old weeds reached up from cracks in the concrete like hands from the depths of a black hell; grabbing, pulling as his feet, seeking to keep him away from the nightmare that awaited in the shadows.

With every slow, cautious step down the long, silent alley way, his jagged shadow danced in terror against the brick skin of the old structure, twisting in displeasure as it faded slowly in and out of the dull red light, which frowned down upon him in melancholy. Like the mind of the dying man, his bruised, pale face passed between the light and the darkness.

I can’t believe this…am I the only one left?

The heavy wooden door opened quietly as he pressed against it. In his mind, a dark fear bean to grow, pushing hard against him as he stepped beyond the threshold of the seen and the known, fighting against his desire to find safety within the dead space of the long abandoned pub. Cries of danger fell upon deaf ears. Into the realm of shadows, he vanished.

Holding the broad sword in front of him, he slowly passed beyond the doorway, ready to kill anything that waited for him in the darkened corners. Not a moment of rest would exist, even in the confines of sanctuary. In his mind, a thousand thoughts all crashed into one another, creating a wreckage of distortion, as the adrenaline raced through his body. His hands trembled.

Beyond his dreary eyes, all that once held company had been abandoned, had been left to hold hands with the sorrowful shadows of loneliness and disarray, which moaned out to him as tears of unseen misery fell down into nothingness. He closed his eyes.

I can feel the sadness…the heavy sorrow of something long forgotten.

Under his heavy feet, the beams of wooden floor creaked and popped, waking lairs of dust up from their long slumber, as he moved past the old tables and chairs that slept in the calm comfort of death. Even after the soul has left and the flesh long gone, the bones of the dead still reach out for the living salvation. The angry dust irritated his lungs.

Nothing can exist here…

Though dried away, the scent of alcohol still flowed from the pores of the wood, still lingered, long after the bottles were forgotten and left to lie in shattered remains on the floor and bar, where once living people flocked to enjoy them.

Nothing but a corpse lay within the coffin of what was once a social haven. The souls that once gathered were now gone, lost somewhere in the void of time and death. No longer
Held in the warm glow of life, but lost inside the darkest winters of night, lost and crying out from suffering never before felt by the human soul.

“No place is safe.” He whispered to himself, as he laid the sword down on the bar. “Not even this place.”

There is nothing out there but death…it surrounds this place…and they are coming.

From beyond the windows, he could see the wind stiring in fear, as it sought to find a place to hide from the creeping things. The howling that crept through the gaps in the door filled his soul with a chilling numb that bled out through this tingling skin, as he stood in confusion.

“I will have to wait.” He said to himself as he sat behind the bar.” Maybe they won’t know I’m here.”

Tired from exhaustion, he gazed out, wondering in his mind, if the void would find him; Wondering what fate would be his. Would he find the stregnth to survive or would he become to weak to fight of the slithering death which stalked him. He soon drifted off.

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