Ellen
walked through the dark foreboding house. Blue flashes of light shone
through the gaps in the boarded up windows, offering momentary
illumination. The storm outside was getting worse. The rain was
battering the side of the house. It sounded like someone was throwing
pebbles at the abandoned building. Upstairs she could hear the
children giggling, as they played in the back bedroom. It was then
that a scent caught her nose. It was a foreign smell. It was a smell
that meant danger. Ellen spun to face the boarded up bay windows.
Shadowy figures were moving around the front of the house.
‘ Oh
no,’ she gasped.
Ellen
charged out the living room and into the hallway.
The
front door burst open, spraying broken wood everywhere.
Wide
eyes looked at the hooded figure holding the handgun. Lightning
crackled across the horizon. Ellen made a split second decision. She
had to lead them away from the children. She had to get them out of
the house. Three gunshots echoed through the house, as Ellen sprinted
down the hallway into the kitchen. All three bullets struck her in
the upper back. One bullet cut through her lung, as another
penetrated her heart, but she didn’t stop running. Suddenly,
the back door opened. Another figure was stood there holding a long
rifle. A fourth bullet struck Ellen through the back of the leg,
blowing out her kneecap. Her momentum carried her forward, but
gravity was doing its work. She grasped at the figure. It was a
blonde haired, blue eyed man. Ellen pulled him down, landing on top
of him. The man grabbed her throat, as Ellen’s rotting teeth
snapped shut, biting at the air.
‘ Help,’
he screamed, ‘help me!’
***
‘ Out
the way,’ said Natasha, knocking Sheridan to the side. The
beautiful black haired woman marched into the house, pistol in hand.
Instantly, she headed up the stairs towards the landing. Water
dripped down through the roof, as the cold air blew in through a
smashed window. Deep brown eyes glanced left and right, high and low,
as she reached the landing. Three of the four doors were shut. Wet
footprints on the carpet led into the open door. Raising her pistol,
she stepped forward. Inch by inch, she moved across the landing and
into the room. A faint orange glow flickered out of the doorway.
Natasha moved into the room. A candle was sat on a dresser. Two
children were cowering in the far corner of the room. They had to be
no older than six years old. Natasha sighed, as she crossed the room.
‘ I’m
scared,’ said the little girl.
‘ I
want my mummy,’ added the little boy.
Two
pairs of dead eyes looked up at Natasha. It was only now that Natasha
could smell the rotting flesh.
‘ Sorry,
kids,’ she announced, before putting a bullet in the little
boys head.
The
little girl screamed, hysterically.
‘ MUMMY!’
A
second gunshot painted blood, brains and gore over the wall.
***
Colt
rushed down the side of the building and stepped out into the garden.
‘Fuck sake,’ he cursed beneath his breath, as he pulled
his combat knife from the belt beneath his poncho. Oliver was lying
on his back, fighting off Ellen, as she chomped at the air, trying to
bite off his face. The zombie had lost all the skin on the back of
its head, exposing white skull to the world. ‘You are always so
fucking messy.’ Colt grabbed Ellen by the scruff of the neck,
hoisted her up and stabbed the tip of his combat knife through the
side of her head. He dropped her lifeless body back down on top of
Oliver. Lisa was following closely behind. The sexy young blonde
soldier laughed, as she stepped over Oliver and into the house.
***
Natasha
came down the stairs, unzipping her wet coat. She was wearing a torn
football jersey underneath. It was slightly too big for her, but
somehow looked good on her. Sheridan was standing in the hallway with
the two kids they had rescued from the massacre at Green Hills.
Dwayne and Nicky were orphans that were no older than eight years of
age. Stood in the
walked through the dark foreboding house. Blue flashes of light shone
through the gaps in the boarded up windows, offering momentary
illumination. The storm outside was getting worse. The rain was
battering the side of the house. It sounded like someone was throwing
pebbles at the abandoned building. Upstairs she could hear the
children giggling, as they played in the back bedroom. It was then
that a scent caught her nose. It was a foreign smell. It was a smell
that meant danger. Ellen spun to face the boarded up bay windows.
Shadowy figures were moving around the front of the house.
‘ Oh
no,’ she gasped.
Ellen
charged out the living room and into the hallway.
The
front door burst open, spraying broken wood everywhere.
Wide
eyes looked at the hooded figure holding the handgun. Lightning
crackled across the horizon. Ellen made a split second decision. She
had to lead them away from the children. She had to get them out of
the house. Three gunshots echoed through the house, as Ellen sprinted
down the hallway into the kitchen. All three bullets struck her in
the upper back. One bullet cut through her lung, as another
penetrated her heart, but she didn’t stop running. Suddenly,
the back door opened. Another figure was stood there holding a long
rifle. A fourth bullet struck Ellen through the back of the leg,
blowing out her kneecap. Her momentum carried her forward, but
gravity was doing its work. She grasped at the figure. It was a
blonde haired, blue eyed man. Ellen pulled him down, landing on top
of him. The man grabbed her throat, as Ellen’s rotting teeth
snapped shut, biting at the air.
‘ Help,’
he screamed, ‘help me!’
***
‘ Out
the way,’ said Natasha, knocking Sheridan to the side. The
beautiful black haired woman marched into the house, pistol in hand.
Instantly, she headed up the stairs towards the landing. Water
dripped down through the roof, as the cold air blew in through a
smashed window. Deep brown eyes glanced left and right, high and low,
as she reached the landing. Three of the four doors were shut. Wet
footprints on the carpet led into the open door. Raising her pistol,
she stepped forward. Inch by inch, she moved across the landing and
into the room. A faint orange glow flickered out of the doorway.
Natasha moved into the room. A candle was sat on a dresser. Two
children were cowering in the far corner of the room. They had to be
no older than six years old. Natasha sighed, as she crossed the room.
‘ I’m
scared,’ said the little girl.
‘ I
want my mummy,’ added the little boy.
Two
pairs of dead eyes looked up at Natasha. It was only now that Natasha
could smell the rotting flesh.
‘ Sorry,
kids,’ she announced, before putting a bullet in the little
boys head.
The
little girl screamed, hysterically.
‘ MUMMY!’
A
second gunshot painted blood, brains and gore over the wall.
***
Colt
rushed down the side of the building and stepped out into the garden.
‘Fuck sake,’ he cursed beneath his breath, as he pulled
his combat knife from the belt beneath his poncho. Oliver was lying
on his back, fighting off Ellen, as she chomped at the air, trying to
bite off his face. The zombie had lost all the skin on the back of
its head, exposing white skull to the world. ‘You are always so
fucking messy.’ Colt grabbed Ellen by the scruff of the neck,
hoisted her up and stabbed the tip of his combat knife through the
side of her head. He dropped her lifeless body back down on top of
Oliver. Lisa was following closely behind. The sexy young blonde
soldier laughed, as she stepped over Oliver and into the house.
***
Natasha
came down the stairs, unzipping her wet coat. She was wearing a torn
football jersey underneath. It was slightly too big for her, but
somehow looked good on her. Sheridan was standing in the hallway with
the two kids they had rescued from the massacre at Green Hills.
Dwayne and Nicky were orphans that were no older than eight years of
age. Stood in the
Similar Books
