Posts tagged ‘Undead’

Mr. Zed (Ep 6)

A long moan arose from the undead before he turned the furnace off. Slowly he limped back to the door.
For a few moments he stared at the unshaved face of a man in his thirties. A hunter, experienced in  weapons. Still, overwhelmed with the situation.
In the doorwindow next to him, the face of a woman pressed against the glass. Slowly he retreated from the door. Light was growing dim as the evening broke.
Something else in the room, other than the furnace, was the new intended destination of the undead.

Occasionally shots aimed at undead coming up the road echoed through the house. None of the group had ever seen an undead with such a behavior as the one in the morgue. Their hopes were high that the snow would slow the undead in their movements. They produced no body heat and their tormented corpses would freeze if exposed to cold temperatures long enough.

Mr. Zed (Ep 5)

“Since it came in, two days ago, it just stumbled around the room.” narriting the Undead mans arrival the young man happily chewed on a snack. Other people had returned from a nearby town with supplies, and less ammunition. Curiously they all took turns looking through the windows at the restless undead man inside. “He locked the doors from the inside, we then also barricaded them. But he did not attempt to get out.”
A coughing noise rose from inside the room with the undead. Baffled a man with a machete on his back turned to the room. The sound was familiar, but he couldn’t believe his ears.
Reluctantly the gas igniter of the incineration furnace sprung to life, in a few seconds flames sparkled in the small chamber, observed by the undead mans seeing eye.

The noise of the living trying to see what he was doing was filling the room, the silent hissing of the furnace aside.

Mr. Zed (Ep 4)

“Did you get him?” a young woman peeked through the window over to the tree. The man next to her sighed while shaking his head. “No.” he was shaking while reloading his rifle. Hunger had made him weak, shaking and unconcentrated. Again he looked over the finn of the rifle.
Baffled he let the gun sink.
The undead man he was aiming at was gone, he could not see him anymore.
Startled they both turned around as they heard something smashing open the front doors of the building that were outside the graveyard. Without saying a single word both of them drew guns and crouched towards the entryhall.
“Hello?” the man couldn’t suppress nervous tremble in his voice. “We’re armed, show yourselves!” </p>

Tracks on the soft carpet indicated that the limping intruder had immediately turned to his left. Quickly the two rushed to the door of the morgue and tried to pry it open but had no luck. While she was covering his back, the young man got up to peek through the windows of the doors. An undead man was staring back at him, startled the young man stepped back, almost stumbling over the woman.

All undead he had seen so far either had a neutral or slightly aggravated expression, this one however bore a sad expression on his ashen complexion.

Mr. Zed (Ep3)

November rain had drenched the land with ice cold water, still, mist rose from in between the graves. Some had been opened from inside, but only the freshest. Their former inhabitants were lying in front of the funeral home at the end of the graveyard.
The moon was peeking through the nebula illuminating a lone undead man standing underneath an old, but bare tree. His one seeing eye was fixed on the funeral home and the pile of bodies in front of it.
The last months had seen him stumbling from the city, attacking the living where ever he encountered them, and what ever the living where. Small mammals, birds, humans.
He was missing a foot from the ankle down, a pack of dogs had gotten it, but since he then attacked one of them and ate its flesh they had not returned for more.
A shot hit the tree next to the undead man, fired from a window of the funeral home.
The dislocated jaw moved slightly, a long moan arose from the undead man.

Mr. Zed (Ep2)

Stench drove the more sensitive animals from the wheat field, attracted the scavengers, which were repelled by their presumably dead prey attempting to eat them. For weeks feral dogs and raven came from the city, returned, ran away again.
Interested and with some level of contempt a raven sat on the old scarecrow watching the undead man stumble through the field. Others like him had come before, got lost in the field and were now groaning heads in the field. Over time the dogs had learned to tear away the legs, return for the arms later, leaving the torso for maggots and raven.
The undead stumbling through the field was different though. He did not wander aimlessly around like the ones that had come before him.
He walked in a straight line.
Almost as if he was drawn somewhere.
Curiosly the raven looked in the direction the corpse was stumbling towards. No sounds, other than insects, birds and even more insects, originated around the field. No attracting smells like fresh meat or blood were lingering in the air.
Abruptly the undead stopped.
Interested the raven looked down on the walking corpse again, it’s head tilted slightly. Slowly the wheat waved in the wind around the undead. Barely noticable the ashgreay skin tightened as the undead man turned his head, two weeks after his last meal he stared at this deathly bird with a blind and on seeing, but dead, eye, while the sun set in the west, ending a warm autumn day.
Too late in the day for dogs.

Mr. Zed (Ep1)

Fierce gusts of wind blew through the empty street. Leaves rode on them around and through abandoned cars.
A few stray birds flew across the street, croaking startled. The corpse the had inted to pick, had just gotten up and stumbled away.
The others had, had a head start on him, following distant echoes of gun shots. Unknowing that these were fired at other Undead to put them to the ground for good. Soon the surviving living people had discovered that a shot delivered to the head was the final end to them.
From a fenced off building a few blocks from the last Undead the living fired at them to cover for another group of survivors that attempted to get away.
Moaning and groaning the undead man stumbled behind the large flock of undead, something caught his eye.
Groaning louder he followed what he had seen. There was an old man who stumbled through a side alley, the alarmed undead were drawn away from the house he lived in, his chance to escape the city.
Suddenly he felt a tight grip on his shoulder, startled he shrieked while he turned around only to look into a pair of dead eyes, one of which they always had been, white and blind.