A faint hissing sound rang throughout the night, oftentimes a clicking noise would

accompany the hissing. The sun rose over a mountain creating an anomaly as the
moon still sat in the sky. A bloody sleeping bag lay on a creaky wooden floor, the blood
seeped through the floor, dripping to the level below it. Two bloody, rotted corpses sat
against the wallpaper, one of them had an axe stuck in its shoulder, the other missing
its legs. The corpses intestines leaked out from its body, the lower half of its torso was
missing entirely. A busted down door remained on its hinges, a hole going straight
through the middle. Three figures appeared in the doorway, slowly shuffling inside the
house. In the basement of the house, there was a loud sob, overwhelming the sounds
of the undead creeping around the house. As the three zombies walked in, several more
appeared behind them, at least a dozen of them flooded the small home. As they
navigated their way to the basement stairs, the sobbing grew louder with the occasional
screaming of telling the intruders to leave them alone. The shuffling undead tripped
down the stairs, collapsing on each other. As one got up, they all started to regain their
strength, pushing themselves off of the ground. No NO. NOOOO!!! The survivor
screamed in agony as theyre ripped open. The zombies tore a hole through the mans
stomach, chomping on his liver, intestines and other entrails. His blood flowed
throughout the ground, soaking the carpet a dark shade of red.
You think well make it long enough to see tomorrow? A large group consisting
of six people walked along overgrown train tracks, the weeds taking the place of the
rusted metal and rotted planks. Three zombies shuffled from out of the trees, I got em.
One of the groups members walks towards the undead, pulling a machete out from a
leather sheathe. He swings the machete into of the zombies skulls, ripping it out with all
of his strength. Another one of the group walks over to assist him, You got him, Brian?
The first one asked. Brian struggled to pull out his knife, breaking the blade off of the
small dagger. DAVID, GET The zombie sunk its teeth into Brians neck, ripping out
a chunk of his throat and jugular vein. Blood spat out of the large hole, spraying onto
Davids leather jacket. The rest of the group ran towards the two, screaming and telling
Brian he would be okay. We can just let him die. David said calmly, staring at Brian as
he screamed in agony as the blood pooled around him. The grass was no longer a dry
beige colour, it was now a dark crimson, chunks of flesh lay scattered around his body.
The remaining of the two zombies had begun to pick up speed, moving from a
slow shuffle into a quick jog. One of the two began to leap, pouncing on top of one the
other survivors, it ripped open Nicks back, ripping out his spine and tearing out all of the
flesh, leaving a gaping hole through his back into his chest and stomach. His entrails
slipped out from his body, leaving a puddle of lungs, a heart and intestines to remain on
the ground as Nicks body was eaten. The zombie grabbed Nicks head, ripped it off of
his neck and carried the head away. The rest of the group stared in awe as Nick was
quickly disposed of, minus a few organs. The remaining four survivors pulled out

whatever weapon they had, baseball bats, assault rifles and knives. As more undead
found their way out of the trees, they began to clump together, forming into a horde filled
with more than two dozen zombies. Gunshots had overwhelmed the sounds of the
undead breaking branches or groaning as they started breaking into a sprint, charging
into a few survivors. As minutes passed, the undead began spitting stomach acid, the
green and yellow substance eventually becoming potent enough to melt flesh. I dont
know how were gonna make it. They had been cornered towards the edge of a cliff,
below them a horde consisting of thousands of undead roamed around the cliff side.
The last two remaining stood on the edge, facing the quarry. One of them pulls a pistol
out of his waistband, and holds it in his right hand. His hearing had become distorted,
hallucinating visions of his own demise. He put the pistol next to his head, aiming it right
at the side of his temple. Thank you He pulled the trigger, killing him
instantaneously. His body fell and knocked over the others, the screams as they fell
wouldve haunted someone for the rest of their lives. As the two were eaten alive, the
one who shot himself woke up in a blood soaked room, with the floor above him
creaking. Phew It was just a dream As he finished his sentence, multiple zombies
flooded the room, tearing him open and devouring his insides.

out of 4

Meaning

Style

Form

Convention

3.5

3.5