Zombie Killer

It’s the last day of school and you’re clearing out your locker when your best friend runs up to you out of breath. “You have to come with me right now,” your friend says. “It’s a matter of life and death.” So you rush with your friend to the cafeteria, only to find several of your classmates have been turned into zombies. What they don’t know is that, you are secretly a superhero who kills zombies. Write this scene.

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468 thoughts on “Zombie Killer

  1. BAMFunicorn

    I cannot wait to get out of this prison. For the next two months my only responsibilities are getting a tan and reading trashy magazines. I am almost finished emptying my locker of the detritus that accumulates throughout a school year when Adam slams into the locker beside mine.

    “You have to come with me. It’s a matter of life and death.” Then he grabs my hand and starts pulling me after him toward the cafeteria. As we approach, I begin to hear it. The moans and groans and utter chaos that accompanies an undead outbreak. I pull Adam to a stop and head toward the last hallway we passed. Luckily, my locker is not the last place I need to clean out before leaving campus.

    When we get to the choir room, Adam starts lecturing. “We can’t just hide from them! We have to do something! How can you just hide in here? I don’t know what is going on out there, but I know that we have to do something about it!”

    “Dude, we need supplies. I do know what’s going on out there, and running in empty handed is only going to get more people killed. Namely, you and me. And if you are honest with yourself, you know what you saw. So call my dad. Tell him, ‘Ravens winning in the cafeteria,’ and wait for him to get here.”
    “Wait for him? No way! I’m coming with you. Dude… why do you have a crossbow and hunting knife in the sheet music closet?”

    Without time to argue or explain, I run out of there and toward the fray. When I finally see the cafeteria, I am extremely thankful that most of the kids who drive to school have left. It looks like the entire freshmen class is in the cafeteria trying to bite the few upper class stragglers left. So I do what I have been trained my entire life to do. I kill every zombie in that cafeteria. My knife is slick with their black rot when I make it to the back corner and find the culprit behind the outbreak slipping out of the window and running away.

    I had known all year that my biology teacher was a little too excited about dissections. Too enamored of the study of life, or more accurately, the ending of life. And now I know why after catching the glint of the telltale ruby jewel in his gauged earlobe. A necromancer. Looks like my summer may have just gotten more interesting.

  2. Geriatric3368

    I had already cleaned out my locker two weeks ago, but since today was the last day of school Mr. Davis allowed us to leave class for “organizational development”. It was his clever way of saying we could roam the halls after we packed up our lockers. My best friend Seth went to grab a soda from the vending machine, Mountain Dew was always his favorite, so he of course had to go all the way across the school to the cafeteria, to find the one machine that carried his sugary addiction.
    Senioritis sucks. I’ve been ready to get out of this place since September. My real education wrapped up about 6 months ago, and man, that was one hell of a lab practical.
    I laughed under my breath at the thought and turned down the hallway towards the cafeteria to go meet Seth. That’s when he barreled around the corner red-faced and gasping.
    “Todd, You have to come with me right freaking now!” Seth shouted.
    “What the hell is going on?” I demanded. Seth usually doesn’t tend to get worked up over anything. “Did you find a way into the volleyball team’s locker room?” I retorted casually.
    “Dude, we gotta go! It’s a matter of life and death.” A sudden look of dread washed over Seth’s face and I knew almost immediately what it had to be.
    “Show Me.”
    Seth led the way sprinting through the halls, we had played soccer together for ten years, so it didn’t take us long to arrive. When we got to the cafeteria doors, Seth stopped me. He gestured silently at the doors signaling to me to look inside. I peeked my head up to the narrow window. Damn, I was right. Fucking Zombies. At least twenty of my schoolmates had been turned. How the hell did the virus get here…? No time to think about that right now.
    “Seth, listen to me. You have to stay right here. Do you hear me?” I whispered.
    “What are you going to do?” he asked.
    “Exactly what I’ve been learning.” I replied earnestly.
    I had seen the janitor’s trolley in the previous hallway about 4 doors down. I sprinted back there, and grabbed the mop. I propped the handle on the wall, and gave it a swift kick, splintering the end near the mop head just above the rusted metal fixture. I flipped the splintered end up, and gave it a quick analysis. It wasn’t very sharp, but it just had to get me to the kitchen, there’s knives in the kitchen.
    I headed back to the cafeteria doors, where Seth was huddling in the corner. Good, they hadn’t tried to come out. He gave me a surprised look when he saw the improvised weapon in my hands, and then started shaking his head violently, pleading with me not to do what he knew I was about to do.
    “Seth, you have to trust me. I’ve got this. Y’know how I’ve been going to youth group at church?”
    He nodded.
    “And last summer I worked at that summer camp, but you couldn’t visit on the weekends or anything?”
    He nodded again, his eyes growing wider as he began to realize my deception.
    “I’ve been training with a task force. Zombies are real Seth. It started with a virus, some terrorist assholes weaponized it, and now it’s spreading. I have go in there, I’ll be fine. I promise. I need you to go lock yourself in the bathroom, I’ll come get you.”
    I turned away, and quietly opened one of the doors, I slinked in and did my best to let the door close silently. Clunk-click. None of them moved. Alright, time to do this.

    1. Ramsey Glissadevil

      Wow! I joined this site so that I might reply to your response. I love your short Zombie story! You need to know that there are people like me who dig your groove and story telling mood…errr mode. I mainly enjoyed your details. Like the church youth group was better bit than the improvised weapon in your hands. Although if you had described your improvised weapon…That could have been and would have been better!

      I did an anagram search on my lover’s name and this is the only site that came up…In case you wondered how I wandered on your Zombie Story!

  3. Geriatric3368

    I had already cleaned out my locker two weeks ago, but since today was the last day of school Mr. Davis allowed us to leave class for “organizational development”. It was his clever way of saying we could roam the halls after we packed up our lockers.

    My best friend Seth went to grab a soda from the vending machine, Mountain Dew was always his favorite, so he of course had to go all the way across the school to the cafeteria, to find the one machine that carried his sugary addiction.
    Senioritis sucks. I’ve been ready to get out of this place since September. My real education wrapped up about 6 months ago, and man, that was one hell of a lab practical.

    I laughed under my breath at the thought and turned down the hallway towards the cafeteria to go meet Seth. That’s when he barreled around the corner red-faced and gasping.

    “Todd, You have to come with me right freaking now!” Seth shouted.
    “What the hell is going on?” I demanded. Seth usually doesn’t tend to get worked up over anything. “Did you find a way into the volleyball team’s locker room?” I retorted casually.
    “Dude, we gotta go! It’s a matter of life and death.” A sudden look of dread washed over Seth’s face and I knew almost immediately what it had to be.
    “Show Me.”

    Seth led the way sprinting through the halls, we had played soccer together for ten years, so it didn’t take us long to arrive. When we got to the cafeteria doors, Seth stopped me. He gestured silently at the doors signaling to me to look inside. I peeked my head up to the narrow window. Damn, I was right. F*%$ing Zombies. At least twenty of my schoolmates had been turned. How the hell did the virus get here…? No time to think about that right now.

    “Seth, listen to me. You have to stay right here. Do you hear me?” I whispered.
    “What are you going to do?” he asked.
    “Exactly what I’ve been learning.” I replied earnestly.

    I had seen the janitor’s trolley in the previous hallway about 4 doors down. I sprinted back there, and grabbed the mop. I propped the handle on the wall, and gave it a swift kick, splintering the end near the mop head just above the rusted metal fixture. I flipped the splintered end up, and gave it a quick analysis. It wasn’t very sharp, but it just had to get me to the kitchen, there’s knives in the kitchen.

    I headed back to the cafeteria doors, where Seth was huddling in the corner. Good, they hadn’t tried to come out. He gave me a surprised look when he saw the improvised weapon in my hands, and then started shaking his head violently, pleading with me not to do what he knew I was about to do.

    “Seth, you have to trust me. I’ve got this. Y’know how I’ve been going to youth group at church?”
    He nodded.
    “And last summer I worked at that summer camp, but you couldn’t visit on the weekends or anything?”
    He nodded again, his eyes growing wider as he began to realize my deception.
    “I’ve been training with a task force. Zombies are real Seth. It started with a virus, some terrorist assholes weaponized it, and now it’s spreading. I have go in there, I’ll be fine. I promise. I need you to go lock yourself in the bathroom, I’ll come get you.”

    I turned away, and quietly opened one of the doors, I slinked in and did my best to let the door close silently. Clunk-click. None of them moved. Alright, time to do this.

  4. Geriatric3368

    I had already cleaned out my locker two weeks ago, but since today was the last day of school Mr. Davis allowed us to leave class for “organizational development”. It was his clever way of saying we could roam the halls after we packed up our lockers. My best friend Seth went to grab a soda from the vending machine, Mountain Dew was always his favorite, so he of course had to go all the way across the school to the cafeteria, to find the one machine that carried his sugary addiction.
    Senioritis sucks. I’ve been ready to get out of this place since September. My real education wrapped up about 6 months ago, and man, that was one hell of a lab practical.
    I laughed under my breath at the thought and turned down the hallway towards the cafeteria to go meet Seth. That’s when he barreled around the corner red-faced and gasping.
    “Todd, You have to come with me right freaking now!” Seth shouted.
    “What the hell is going on?” I demanded. Seth usually doesn’t tend to get worked up over anything. “Did you find a way into the volleyball team’s locker room?” I retorted casually.
    “Dude, we gotta go! It’s a matter of life and death.” A sudden look of dread washed over Seth’s face and I knew almost immediately what it had to be.
    “Show Me.”
    Seth led the way sprinting through the halls, we had played soccer together for ten years, so it didn’t take us long to arrive. When we got to the cafeteria doors, Seth stopped me. He gestured silently at the doors signaling to me to look inside. I peeked my head up to the narrow window. Damn, I was right. Fucking Zombies. At least twenty of my schoolmates had been turned. How the hell did the virus get here…? No time to think about that right now.
    “Seth, listen to me. You have to stay right here. Do you hear me?” I whispered.
    “What are you going to do?” he asked.
    “Exactly what I’ve been learning.” I replied earnestly.
    I had seen the janitor’s trolley in the previous hallway about 4 doors down. I sprinted back there, and grabbed the mop. I propped the handle on the wall, and gave it a swift kick, splintering the end near the mop head just above the rusted metal fixture. I flipped the splintered end up, and gave it a quick analysis. It wasn’t very sharp, but it just had to get me to the kitchen, there’s knives in the kitchen.
    I headed back to the cafeteria doors, where Seth was huddling in the corner. Good, they hadn’t tried to come out. He gave me a surprised look when he saw the improvised weapon in my hands, and then started shaking his head violently, pleading with me not to do what he knew I was about to do.
    “Seth, you have to trust me. I’ve got this. Y’know how I’ve been going to youth group at church?”
    He nodded.
    “And last summer I worked at that summer camp, but you couldn’t visit on the weekends or anything?”
    He nodded again, his eyes growing wider as he began to realize my deception.
    “I’ve been training with a task force. Zombies are real Seth. It started with a virus, some terrorist assholes weaponized it, and now it’s spreading. I have go in there. I’ll be fine, I promise. I need you to go lock yourself in the bathroom, I’ll come get you.”
    I turned away, and quietly opened one of the doors, I slinked in and did my best to let the door close silently. Clunk-click. None of them moved. Alright, time to do this.

  5. MrSparky

    Clean It Up and Get Out

    ===============================================

    (Well past the 500 words, but it was too fun to stop)

    As I sifted through the junk crammed into my locker, I realized that I am indeed a pack rat. My bedroom at home is spotless, but boy do I neglect my locker. I began shoving things into a garbage bag. I found old homework papers that never got turned in for a grade; pencils with the erasers bitten off; love notes from a few girls that just never really panned out; a Harry Potter novel bent completely to hell. I was actually beginning to make a bit of progress when I saw Frank leap around a corner, bundling in my direction.

    He stopped before me, hands on his knees and panting, out of breath. “Luke, you gotta get down here . . . Cafeteria . . . Shit just hit the fan . . . like . . . major shit . . . big fan.” He held his arms out to emphasize just how big a fan we were talking.

    “Woah,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Sure it’s nothing Mr. B can’t handle.”
    He stood up straight, finally having caught his wind. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, man. Just come.”

    In the past, whenever I’ve sensed something off or out of place, a slight tingling sensation always makes its way down my spine. I had that feeling then, as Frank looked me in the eyes. I could tell he was serious, though he was good at acting the part. The cafeteria was right around the corner from where Frank had just come, and just as I closed my locker, the lock falling back into place, something resembling Billy Combs came shambling into the hallway. I knew what it was without even considering how crazy the idea sounded. They had told me I was in this school for a reason, and that I was to wait; I would know what to do when the time came.

    Without taking my eyes off Billy, my hands shot back to my locker and entered the combination into the lock. Billy looked in our direction. I opened the locker. Billy moaned, and then sprinted toward us, moving much faster than I had ever seen Billy Combs move before. Frank screamed, and ducked behind me, cowering like a scared pup. I couldn’t blame him. Any ordinary person coming into contact with a zombie would do what he was doing. Luckily for Frank, I wasn’t ordinary.

    Billy had covered half the ground between us when I moved a picture of Donna Clemens aside and pushed the little blue button behind her. The inside walls of the locker folded inward to reveal a much larger space, a space containing many things: a Kevlar vest, two sawed off shotguns, a can of bug repellant, a motorcycle helmet, a tube of Old Spice Swagger body spray, and a katana had actually just recently purchased from the local Renaissance Festival.

    Frank tightened his grip on my leg and screamed, pointing at something that very clearly terrified the shit out of him. I looked, and what was left of Billy Combs was now only a couple feet away. I stood where I was, and then swung my locker door as hard as I could. It connected with Billy’s head and he tumbled backwards. All the time I needed. I reached into the locker, grabbed one of the shotguns and pointed it at Billy. He growled. I fired. Buckshot ripped his face apart and the rest of him fell quietly to the tiled floor. Blood began to pool around him. I mouthed a silent prayer for Billy.

    “Holy . . . Shit,” Frank managed. “Where did you find a gun?”
    I sighed, not really in the mood to tell the story yet again. “I keep a few things hidden in my locker for emergencies,” I lied. “I’d say my paranoia was a good idea.”
    “Nobody keeps two shotguns in their school locker,” Frank said. “You’re insane.”
    “Well my insanity just saved your ass, Frank.”

    I put on the Kevlar vest, stuffed my big head into the motorcycle helmet, and strapped the katana to my back. I wasn’t entirely sure the katana would actually cut anything other than air, but I decided it couldn’t hurt. Then I grabbed the can of Old Spice Swagger body spray and the shotgun.
    I shoved the other shotgun at Frank. “Take this and come with me.”

    Reluctantly, he took the gun and held it like a total amateur. If he had actually fired it right then, he would have broken his nose, and so I resigned that that was okay. Add a little humor to what I was about to do. We stopped at the cafeteria doors. I was amazed that the gunshot earlier hadn’t alarmed them, but it hadn’t. There looked to be a couple hundred of them, shuffling between the tables and moaning like sick children. I recognized many of them, kids I had gotten to know pretty well over the last school year. There were a couple teachers mixed in, and them I didn’t feel quite so bad about, I admit. I identified one, Mr. Norris, who always insisted that we keep our mouths shut during his bogus movies.

    Frank leaned forward, whispered in my ear, “Far corner, to the left, behind the overturned tables.”

    Sure enough, I saw them. A few kids were hiding behind the overturned tables. It was a miracle they hadn’t been found out, truly a miracle. It was only a matter of minutes, I knew; one of them would sneeze, or cough, or whimper too loudly as tears fell down their cheeks. I had to do something then.

    “Frank,” I said, stepping back away from the doors. “There’s something I never mentioned before. I’m a teenage zombie killer.”
    “Wha–”

    “It’s a really long story,” I interrupted. “I’ll tell you about it if I make it back out here in one piece. Keep that shotgun close, and only use it if any of them happen to come out here. Don’t come inside with me. If I fall, you’re all that will be left.”

    I knew before I opened the cafeteria doors that it wouldn’t fall on Frank’s shoulders. What could he do? He was a thirteen year old boy with acne who loved his video games and movies. He had never held a shotgun before, wielded a sword before, or even chopped a zombie’s head off before. The worst trouble he’d ever been in was sneaking the sherbet ice cream out of the fridge before eating dinner. No, it wouldn’t fall on him. I’d finish them off, just like I had done before. Other schools, other zombie outbreaks kept out of the public’s knowledge; stopped by me and a few others in secret, before anyone could know. HAZMAT teams would clean up the mess before it was discovered, and the thinkers would spin false yarns to explain the disappearing kids.

    This was just another school.
    This was just another job.

    “Frank, remember what I said. Stay out here.” I swung the cafeteria doors open and ran inside.
    A few hundred adolescent zombies turned their heads to see what had just walked in for dinner. They liked what they saw. Before I had time to shut the doors behind me, they were already running my way. I yanked the katana off my back, the shotgun comfortably resting in my other hand, and I went to work.

    They came at me in waves of ten or so. It lasted almost thirty minutes. One would eat buckshot; another would get a blade through its cranium. The katana did, indeed, work. After ten or so kills I would spray one in the eyes with my Old Spice body spray, blinding the zombie and temporarily removing the smell of dead flesh at the same time. As I really got into a groove, the entire affair became sort of a blur. I twirled and danced over dead zombies like a ballerina, spraying buckshot and swinging my blade. Another pile of bodies, another couple sprays of Old Spice. For me, it had become a performance by now. It was second nature. I knew their movements, their speed, their intelligence. I countered and double-countered their every decision. I can’t take too much credit, because zombies are, by nature, stupid and single-minded. With only one thing on their minds they are unable to react to my actions quick enough, and so before long, they were all dead. The cafeteria was silent.

    From head to toe I was covered in blood. The walls, the tables, the floors, all soaked in scarlet. I was able to save the kids hiding behind the overturned tables, which was the best I could do with so many already turned. Had there been fewer I could have taken extra measures to cure them, reverse-engineer the Ebola virus that had taken hold. But it was too late, and my only option was to take them down as quickly and efficiently as possible. The men in the HAZMAT suits showed up minutes after it was over, the survivors quarantined and then released with their memories wiped clean of the events that had taken place. With the mess cleaned, the yarns began to spin explaining three hundred and seventy-five missing students.

    I never saw Frank again. His mind, too, had to be wiped of all the day’s events. He remembered me, but was told that my parents pulled me out of school, fearful that I might disappear with the nearly four hundred others that had been lost. I’ll never understand how they get people to believe such nonsense, but then again, what they do isn’t my job. My job is the mess itself; whenever and wherever it happens.

    I may be a student at your school one day. You’ll know who I am, oh yes, because they’ll need you to know who I am. Because, if they can wipe memories from your mind, do you not think they can plant them as well?

  6. Vicky

    It was something out of a horror movie, I noted mildly as I stood in the doorway of the cafeteria. Penny was hiding behind me and absently, I tug the snapback on my head lower, eyes narrowing at what had become of my schoolmates. Wasn’t this a pain? I stepped into the room and Penny squeaks. It was understandable. I was about to walk into the cafeteria of zombies. I wasn’t concerned. It was no biggie. It was a morning call at the office. Though chances were someone else would be dispatched first. Because the bureau liked to put education first, even if it was my last day.

    As if the thought passing my brain was a summons, there was a enthusiastic cackle and all the windows on the north side exploded. I scowled when a black blur slid out from the corner of my vision. Showoff. I turned and the other neatly stole the hat off my head. By the time I turned around, my annoying partner was there, teeth glinting in a manic grin and his trademark scythe held loosely in his hands. Some of my zombified schoolmates were already beheaded. But that wasn’t the thing that caught my attention.

    My hat was on his head.

    “Hello Love.” Walker’s Scottish drawl made me frown and automatically, I reach into the pocket of my hoodie for my lighter. His grin grows wider when I pull it out. Walker is already moving, grinning before the flame completely forms.

    “Give me my hat!” I throw the lighter. The air in front of me catches fire and I reach into it, hands curling over the familiar curve of my weapon of choice. The chakrams burn red when they finish forming and I see Penny. Oh. I never did tell her about the bureau. But another time. I wanted my hat.

    “Catch me first Kiki.” Walker’s voice is annoying and drawling and I throw one of my chakrams at him, the spinning wheel effectively cutting down a few zombies along the way. Walker cackles again when I swear loudly. At least he was good at his job, even if he was irritating.

    Everything went down in record time – mostly because it consisted of me cutting down everything trying to get my hat but the room was free of threats soon enough. Walker grinned when we finished, placing my hat back on my head as he slid past. I scowl at him. I tug my hat down to cover my eyes when Penny approached. She sort of sniffs and toes a head.

    “No splatters. Not your usual style.”

    What?

    “Training cuffs. I make do.”

    “Chakrams. Kayle’s work right?”

    “Yeah. The affinity to fire was surprising. Bitzy likes him. Good eye for things.”

    “Not surprised.”

    Walker grins.

    What?

    Walker throws an arm around my shoulders again at my expression.

    “We’ll explain over dinner.”

    “Chinese?”

    “Naw. Italian. Kieran likes his Italian.”

    “Andre’s?”

    “Sounds good.”

    I’m confused. Walker laughs and we leave behind a silent cafeteria.

  7. SilhoueX

    It was the last minute of the last hour of the last day. I casually cleared my locker with a cool sense of numbed pride. This was it, I was a graduate. I was both excited and nervous, at the prospect of the road that lay before me. Standing in my graduation robes. I pondered all things in that moment; my life, my future, my past, my mortality. I felt, in a moment all things coming together to form a picture. I knew, somehow, that the image forming would be the answer to all things. The image became more and more discernable when suddenly…

    “Justin! Justin!” My best friend DJ shouted running towards me.

    Jarred out of my moment of near enlightenment I was visibly annoyed and made no effort to hide it.
    “What!” I shot, glaring at him.
    Not at all noticing the distain I was radiating, he continued, somewhat out of breath, “Dude! We gotta get the fuck outta here!!”
    He then grabbed my arm, proceeded to tug me along. I followed him bewildered.
    “The fuck did you do now, DJ!?” I demanded, stumbling behind him.
    Known for being anything but the model student my accusation was in no way uncalled for. He prided himself on pranks. His most noteworthy of which was suspending the principal’s car from the flag pole and offering “hand lotion” to Mr. Gertrude our science teacher. Gorilla glue, which rendered the teacher defenseless as DJ pantsed him.

    DJ shot back, “I swear, I didn’t do anything this time!”
    “Then why are we…”

    DJ stopped abruptly, cutting me off. He grabbed my head and turned me roughly so I was looking back the way we had come.

    “Zombies” He whispered harshly into my year.
    Sure enough in the hall behind us a small horde of zombies was gaining on us. Not quite running, but not slowly either. Students, parents and teachers alike were moaning, grunting and growling. Bleeding and drooling as they moved.

    I pushed DJ, “Fuckin run!” DJ and I ran hard. Quickly reaching the exit doors before the zombies could reach us. Kicked the metal rectangular button not wanting to slow down for even an instant. To our terror the doors did not open and we both smashed into the doors. Knocking ourselves to the floor.
    DJ was the first to his feet “Wa What the Fuck!!! Why won’t it open!” he was kicking the door. I peered through the door window.
    “DJ…it’s barred.” I said defeated “They must be trying to quarantine the school.”

    “What do we do?” DJ asked.

    “We fight.” I affirmed.
    “Til the end.” DJ added.
    As my adrenaline skyrocketed, I felt in that moment, a calm sort of euphoria. We charged together. Time seemed to slow dramatically as I swung an unknown blade beheading 2 zombies. DJ watched on in awe as his best friend seemed to disappear. DJ Stared on in shock as the zombies fell like a gory wave.
    Thus began the zombie apocalypse.

  8. GeneDaniels

    FACE MELTER

    As I sifted through a mountain of garbage piled up in my locker, I saw Mike in my peripheral come flying around the corner, out of breath.

    “Yo come quick! FIGHT!”

    Highschool fights are like winning the lottery or getting free concert tickets. I mean theres no better way to break up the monotany of the day than a good old fashioned squab. Except when fights happen, the whole student body clammers on about it for weeks. Repuatations are made and broken. So I abandoned my search for walkman batteries and took off down the hallway after Mike who bolted back around the corner, toward the cafeteria.

    As we approached the scene, the crowd parted away so we could see what was happening. I saw Jock, the captain of the football team, holding back the flailing body of some freshman band geek who was trying to attack him.

    “Hey Sanders. Get a load of this one. I must have insulted his home planet or something,” said Jock letting loose with a dumb laugh.
    “Hah. What a geek!” chimed one of Jock’s counterparts.

    Now typically upon approaching a scene like this one I would have already lost interest. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stood in a crowded lunchroom and watched as Jock proceed to feed some mathlete the remainder of their lunch through their ass. But something about the rabid nerd struck me as peculiar. His eys were a fiery red and his skin had a bluish tint to it as if it belonged to a rotting corpse at the bottom of a lake. His screams and cries grew louder. They began to sound otherworldly and inhuman. I knew something bad was about to happen so I began to step back toward the door with Mike who was clutching a Tony Alva fish board to his chest.

    Without warning, the screaming nerd spewed a violent stream of neon green bile all over Jack, from his flat top down to his British Knights. What came next was heinous. An all out zombie blood bath of neon puke and gore spreading throughout the lunchroom. Mike and I were turning to leave when a depraved, one legged lunch lady hopped up behind us and bit a chunk out of Mike’s shoulder causing him to drop the skateboard at my feet.

    “Bogus!”

    I commenced to shred down the hallway on the Alva board doing wall rides and no complies off lockers as a hoard trailed close behind. My zombified Algebra teacher jumped out from behind a trash can and knocked me off the board.

    “Most unrighteous wipeout.”

    I picked up the board and gave him a firm whack to the noodle as he lunged for me.

    “X equals negative b plus or minus my board against your domicile, bud!” I said as I ripped the flesh from his face with my grip tape.

    Left and right the hoard was closing in. Mutated teenage zombies, foaming at the mouth poured around corners, blocking my exit. I ran into the principles office and slid a desk in front of the door to block the zombie’s entry. Knowing that the hoard would eventually break the door down, I had to think fast. I spotted a digital alarm clock on the principle’s desk.

    “Bingo!”

    I swapped the batteries out of the alarm clock and shoved them into my walkman as one of the zombies punched through the door’s glass.

    I ran over to the intercom and hit play on the walkman, unleashing the most radically hellacious guitar solo from the latest Ratt album. The sound was so powerful that the zombie’s flesh began to melt and decompose as they tried to cover their ears.

    “Maximum volume!”

    All of this while I stood on the principle’s desk head banging–swinging my heavy metal hair.

  9. austinsdgva

    June 19, 2056

    -static-
    *this is Alpha.come in Bravo*
    *This is Bravo. what’s up Alpha*
    *sector D3 under attack unknown enemy need backup NOW!*
    -gunfire is all that can be heard from the walkie talkie-
    *Alpha leader come in. Alpha come in…*
    *AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH NO NO NOOO BACK OFF YOU UNDEAD FREAKS WAIT NOOOOOOOOO…*
    *AL…ALPHA YOU TH…THERE?*

    THIS WAS THE BEGINNING OF THE END
    October 29, 2056

    “man tomorrow’s my b-day bros!” luke said.
    “happy birthday luke.” michael replied
    “sucks though there ain’t no cake” nick said sadly
    “thank for rubbing it in dude. i know”luke said chuckling a little
    the door swing wide open the general comes in. You could see the pained expression in his face.
    We too knew what this was about this new unknown threat to humanity and about alpha team.
    when the 4 of us got to D4 hmv’s where flipped, some on fire, dead bodies on the cracked asphalt.
    only 1 was alive, it was…. difficult to bear this, so we did what we had to do.
    end of part 1 tune in for more

  10. raheemsdgva

    Chris and his best friend Joseph were on their way to the cafeteria for lunch, they notice two students there who’s classed hadn’t even been dismissed and they were confused because they usually are the first ones to arrive in the cafeteria. The two teens didn’t want to walk in and have an awkward moment so they just watched through the tiny crack of the door, as they watched they noticed that these two people weren’t even students from the school. They tried to whisper as they spoke to each other bu were noticed by the two people and tried to move out of site.

  11. JRSimmang

    THEY SAID IT WAS BUY ONE GET ONE

    Come to find out, I am a pack rat. There were report cards in here from freshman year.

    “Turner! STOP!” Madeline skidded to a halt next to me. “YOUHAVETOCOMEWITHMERIGHTAWAYITSAMATTEROFLIFEORDEATH!”

    I’ve learned to not ask questions of Madeline anymore. I held out my wrist, she grabbed it, and she led me hysterically to the cafeteria.

    Before we reached the door, she stopped and turned to me. “Turner. Before you go in there, there’s something you have to know.” She took a deep breath.

    “Is it zombies?” THE LOOK! Oh, that look of incredulity. Gets me every time. I stifled a chuckle.

    “H-how did you know?”

    “Look, Maddy, I love you, but there’s only three things it could be: Werewolves (which are native only to North Canada), Russians (who would sneak in through North Canada), and zombies.”

    “I… uh… buh…”

    “Don’t worry, babe. I got this.”

    The cafeteria was dead silent. Twenty years ago, there would have been paper airplanes drifting endlessly, mashed potato Sputiniks orbiting the vacuous eyes of overpaid coaches, and loose toilet paper no doubt ripped off from the band hall bathrooms, because that place never has toilet paper. And come on. Tubas.

    Today, it was eerie, and unfortunately becoming the norm in high schools across America. That’s why they called in the specialist. Me.

    The first zombie was munching away at some unidentifiable flesh, no doubt cafeteria food. Even zombies can be fooled by that. As I approach, my transistor begins to vibrate, telling me that I’m coming close to an infected one. Immediately, the antigen is sent out in small waves, percolating through the cafeteria. Once one is down, the others follow.

    I’ve seen it before. As soon as they’ve been hit with antidote, they sway, unsure suddenly of their surroundings. This one, whom I recognize as Surely (poor, poor child having to live with that name), allowed the tripy-tidbit fall from her lip onto her lap before she grunts:

    “Mrph-phrum-der-WIRELESS?!”

    Once one notices that their world will forever change, they get aggravated. I started to hear echoing murmurs. “…wireless… instagram… face-face-booooooook…” They all lurched forward, thrashing out at each other’s palm devices, electronics crashing to the floor. One by one, they grabbed at each other’s hair, screaming their zombie screams.

    At this point, the zombies usually take care of themselves. I stand back, and this time was no exception. Surely twisted on me, and stumbled into my shirt. “You… grrrnnnn… you did this…. you piece of… blue! Your eyes… they’re blue!”

    “That’s right, darling Surely. They sure are.” I helped her stand up, and I pushed a golden lock from her face. “And yours are green.”

    She stepped back, and her eyes grew large. “They are?”

    I nodded. “I can help you.” And that was my cue. I climbed on top of the nearest table and shouted, “I CAN HELP ALL OF YOU!”

    Madeline cautiously stepped into the cafeteria, and with timidity, “I will help too.”

    To this day, the cafeteria remembers the day we almost lost. There are others out there, but our mission is noble and our weapons pure. We’re coming after you.

    -JR Simmang

  12. lizbethsdgva

    When this girl was having a good day and was eating her lunch she saw something weird because there was nobody sitting in the lunch tables. So then her friend comes and tells her about that there are zombies in the school. The they both went outside and saw every body drinking there coffie but then 1 min. past and they were turning into zombies. The both girls realized that it was the coffie that was turning them into zombies. Then they both got a message saying that they both have supper powers to kill the zombies, so they tried there powers out and they killed all of the zombies, and also saved other lives that were in danger.

  13. HucknHoldenPunk

    “I don’t care man,” Jacob replied irritably to Matt, “Michael Jordan could never beat Lebron and that’s a fact. I can prove it to you, here watch…”

    I observe the discussion between all of the athletic guys droning on about who’s the best basketball player. I definitely agreed with Jacob that Lebron was the best in NBA history.

    “Andrew,” Emily says, tugging on my sleeve. She sounds affectionate but also sad. It was her who called me into the cafeteria complaining about the other students and using the word “conformist” to describe them. With her black nail polish, purple lipstick, and “Nine Inch Nails” T-shirt, I guess that’s the way she must have felt about them.

    “Andrew, sit with me,” She pleaded, “I don’t want to have to sit alone today.”

    “Don’t you have friends? You’ve got like 800 on Facebook.”

    “Fuck that, it’s so superficial. If I have to sit with Megan and that bitch Hayley one more time I’ll curbstomp them.”

    I looked over to where Megan and Hayley and the other rich, attractive girls were sitting. They were all on their phones and gossiping and talking about last night’s episode of “Pretty Little Liars” in unison. It was pretty sexy but kind of depressing too. I could tell those girls were driving Emily crazy so we sat alone at a cafeteria table and ate our lunches.

    Emily started to talk about how her favorite band, “Streetlight Manifesto”, was coming to play in a few weeks and how she wanted to invite me to come see them. She said that she loved them and that their songs were “existential” and not “conformist and vapid” like the pop artists everyone else at the school was listening to. I couldn’t concentrate though because I forgot to pack a sandwich in my lunch and I was really hungry. Then I got distracted by this fat, geeky kid playing on a Gameboy at a different table. He seemed pretty lifeless, the way his eyes glossed over the screen and his fingers drumming monotonously on the electronic.

    “Andrew!” Emily said in a raised voice. I looked back at her. She seemed a little anxious now.

    “Haven’t you been listening?”

    “About what?”

    “About 1984.”

    “Huh? The year?”

    “No, the book, the one by George Orwell. It’s about a conformist society controlled by the government and there are only a few people who rebel against it. Didn’t you read it like I asked?”

    “Uh, no. The heat game was on and…” I stopped, realizing I’d upset her. She slumped in her seat, her black and white dyed hair covering the pained expression on her face.

    “Emily, what is it?” I asked. She didn’t answer. Instead, she lied down on her side and placed her hands over her head to block me out. That pissed me off so I stood up and left her alone.

    I still hadn’t eaten lunch. I walked through the massive crowd of kids feeling very, very hungry for some meat.

  14. flxwrgrl

    (The whole superhero bit sort of got left out, but I really liked the other parts of the original prompt. So here we go .)

    Untitled

    Garbage. Whether it’s old papers, gym clothes, or gum wrappers, when it comes down to it, at the end of the year, that’s all it is. Garbage.
    So when my best friend, Rain, rushes to me with a wild look in her eyes as I clean out my locker, it startles me. What’s so surprising about failed Spanish tests and study guides that have lost all meaning?
    “You have to come with me right now,” she says, hands twiddling the long brown braid draped over her shoulder.
    I open my mouth the protest- there’s still, like, eight layers of crap to get through, but she stops me short.
    “It’s a matter of life and death.”
    I tilt my head. Life and death? Rain isn’t a very dramatic person; in fact, she barely speaks at all. That’s why I like her. More for me, you know? But something in her face makes me listen, and, intrigued, I follow her to the cafeteria.
    Outside the café doors, I cough, hands on my knees. “This…better…be good,” I say.
    She turns around, then, eyes wide, and opens the door.
    The first thing I notice is Matthew Willis, a.k.a. captain of the football team-, a.k.a Captain Cute-Butt Willis. The second thing I notice is Lara Woodberger eating him alive.
    “No!” I shout, but Rain covers my mouth. This is when I realize something else: Matthew doesn’t really seem to care. Blood drips from his own mouth, his skin is purplish and distended, and if he notices that the president of the debate team has eaten her way halfway through his large intestine, it isn’t bothering him any.
    Oh, now I get it. Zombies. They’re totally zombies.
    “Holy shit,” I think, and then say when Rain removes her sweaty palm from my face. She just nods.
    Just then, Deborah “De-Bore-Ah” Thomas turns her head and growls, a sound not unlike the noise your stomach makes when you haven’t eaten since breakfast.
    Holy shit, I think again, but this time I only say it in my head.
    I mentally catalogue all of my possible weapons as the cheerleading squad drag their half-eaten legs towards us: two pencils in my back pocket, my stubby, over-bitten fingernails, and Rain’s huge, size 13 feet.
    The dead tumble toward s, low moans betraying the whole, well, dead thing. Rain tenses behind me. She thinks we’re running, I realize, as she takes a deep breath and elans away from me.
    As Matthew slithers toward us, with what seems to be the entire human body following behind him, his arms flail to reach us, and I realize that in a way, that’s what he is thinking, too.
    I reach around to my back pocket, and tighten my grip around my two broken number two pencils.
    I try to get it straight: the captain of the football team is a zombie, and his bloody mouth is poised to take a bite out of the girl he never knew existed.
    I raise my weapon.
    Not today, Cute-Butt. Not today.

  15. PeterW

    Everyday I go into school and I turn my classmates from zombies back into students. That is my power. And in that way, there will be no blood on cafeteria tiles; no home-made bombs in lockers; no persons hidden under library tables; no legs running, running out the school door, above the terror in hearts and in eyes, running through the fields of columbines; that way there will be no bodies riddled with bullets from automatic rifles, no swat team/police/paramedics surrounding and storming the perimeter; and no fences lined with flowers and pictures and tokens left, no fences speaking of infinite sorrow… sorrow and shame and horror and disbelief that human kind could turn into something so terrible.

        1. RuthieShev

          I came back here to read this after seeing your message under the new prompt and I, too, am glad I did. I have several grown children that are teachers and I was thinking I should share this with them.

    1. Amyithist

      This brought tears to my eyes. So poignant and heartfelt in so few words. The day before Columbine, I dreamed of a school shooting; though, I didn’t know where it was going to happen, I envisioned it as though I myself were there. I was terrified and the next morning I begged my mom to let me and my brother and sister stay home. The dream was so real, I didn’t want to chance it. About noon that day (I’m seriously guessing here because this was nearly 17 years ago (my God I’m getting old!)), I saw on the TV that there had been a school shooting. My mom called me from work crying and told me that she loved me. It was a really surreal day. You evoked those memories for me. That, Peter, makes you one hell of a writer.

    2. devsmess

      The goosebumps I got from reading that were ‘literarilly’ painful. It’s that one point where you’re reading and you realize what is going on and you stop and cover your mouth because it’s so unexpected and so horrendously truthful…
      Well done… thank you for sharing!

  16. keagensdgva

    my friend runs back down the hall but is too late. a zombie comes rushing out of the cafeteria and catches his scent, he runs but it is too late the zombie tackles him and pulls him into the darkness of the hall.i run as fast as i can and make it just in time to see that i lost the zombies.i run into the bathroom and barricade the door with a stall door. out of the corner of my eye i spot a stool and grab it. i set it on the ground just high enough to reach the grate on the ceiling i climb up just as the door blasts open and the zombies come pouring in. i use my laser vision to seal the grate and i crawl away. what i didn’t think of was that the zombies could adapt so they got smaller and could fly. what a day this was turning out to be. i make a crawl for it to the other grate and make it just in time to see that the fan i crawled through has sped up and shredded the zombie infection

    1. marquissdgva

      Darkness I can feel the splashing of blood coming on my face.I can hear students screaming for help as I slowly get up after the huge hit I just took.I hear my friend Isaiah screaming at me to get up. Once I do get up I am knocked back down.
      ” Mahari get to the principal’s now ” Isaiah screams.
      “Okay le-
      A zombie crawled on me with it’s sharp teeth trying to bite me. I banged it’s head into the wall but it wouldn’t budge I tried to push it, but I was to weak. It crawled over me,and tore my guts open. As it ripped my body to pieces, I screamed in angony. Then I fell into darkness.

    2. isaiahsdgva

      In the middle of a class lesson, sirens go off.I wonder what was happening i look out the window and seen U.S.A forces in the air. Some forces climb down the ladder and getting people to safety. They had loaded weapons with German shepherds by there sides. No one knew what was hap…. As someone starting vomiting blood, it targeted a marine and charge from behind him and bit him. Everyone started to scream and running all over the place. The world was ending but we all was going to die together. The question was what caused humans to react this way and get this virus.A dog had lost it’s hair and i know what that means its turing to a zombie dog, that means it can chase us all done and infect us.

    3. amontesdgva

      Growls echo through the building. I look around but there is nothing there so I kept walking. One more growl sounds and I decide to run. While I’m running I get tackled by someone that weighs pretty much same that I do, I try to scream but the person covers my mouth and whispers in my ear shut up dweeb it’s me. I got even more scared because it was my…..my……sister! What could have she been doing here, before I could think of reasons why, but I had heard a growl. My sister took her hand of my mouth so I got up. Once I got up she shouted “run! ” Then we both ran down the hall, when i got a good look of what the thing was I figured it was a…a…zombie! It had caught up to us and grabbed my sister I turned back and tried to help her but it was to late it had ate her. I stop and took a loose brick from the wall and bashed the zombie in the head with it yell “why did you kill my sister!” Little did I know the zombie was already dead. Once I stopped hitting it I sat down and just cried.

  17. sincerely.m.linn

    ‘H-Haven’t I done this before?’ the thought has been hanging like a half-hazardous chandelier over my head all day. Threateningly the chandelier has been swinging, back and forth, back and forth, throughout the many oddities that I was able to easily brush off. Now, however, I can’t seem to give a simple source of reasoning to the strange feeling of apt familiarity that has made a persistent effort to bring a definite unease to my last day of 10th grade.

    I stand, eerily still, amongst the earnestly moving crowd made up of my fellow classmates. My crudely cluttered locker was my original purpose for strolling to the school’s commons area but my conscious had brought forth a new motive. To give this nagging and truly unnerving sense of severe déjà vu the chance to be more than just mental stress (as I’ve diagnosed it as). Instantly my surroundings begin to agreeably fall into a timeline that is just as predictable to me as the plot of my favorite book that I’ve read five times over.
    Now, Clarabell Johnson will promptly storm off at the defiant exclamation from her twin sister, Annabell, that they will not be doing anymore reckless wondering about. Next, Dex Kings will land a dramatic punch to his already dented locker for an unknown but supposedly pointless reason that will have half-hearted cries of shock erupting from several people. Then, with some attention directed to Dex, Winter Moores will shout angrily at the distracted Felix Simsons for bumping into her and causing the stack of books to tumble from her arms and clatter onto the floor. Like the methdolical ticking of a clock it all plays out to a vague beat within the numb confines of my head.

    Tick.

    The uncomfortable feeling settles heavily in my stomach once more and I raise my eyes slowly to my right. I anticipate long, dirty-blonde hair twisting in the breeze of a frantic sprint and hazel eyes darting about, trying desperately to find someone of apparent importance. I hope I see nothing more than Evie Strong leaning down to help Winter with her precious novels.

    Tock.

    Fixing my eyes on my best friend, whom is rushing toward me at a speed I never thought possible due to her lazy nature, my heart dances in a conflicted putter. Not quite sure to be pushed further into the distraught darkness I’m gingerly submerging into or quicken with adrenaline to prepare myself for the inevitable bad news Lorae is carrying on the curves of her worriedly pursed lips.

    Lorae, her freckled cheeks baring thin streams of tears, takes my hand in her shaking one and turns quickly on her heel. We’re running in the direction she came. With every bewildered blink gory, deadly scenes flash along my eyelids. “Lo! What the hell?! Whe-“ I bite back my questions as Lorae’s sharp nails dig into my palm in a wordless panic. “Cafeteria…They…It’s a matter of life and death.” Something about those last words cause an uneasy tingle to rack through me.

    Bursting through the doors of the lunch room I no longer have to close my eyes to see those horrible visions. It’s not the first time I’ve faced Them. Our entire lives are based around Their hopeful, but realistically impossible, demise. My peers, their uniforms now colored red and their features the fresh form of sickly brownish-purple death we’ve grown accustomed to, are dead.

    Unsheathing the double-bladed hunting knife I keep well hidden in my required combat boots I force my quivering emotions that inquire why this happened to be stilled. There’s no time for that. It’s as Lorae said, this is a matter of life and death. Working my way through the cluster of new zombies I let the now gentle tug guide me through the killing of my friends. Or what remains of who they used to be. As I force my knife through the forehead of Hailey Grizwald, trying not to recall all the sweets she’d given me just because, another thought screams out at me.

    ‘DON’T TURN AROUND!’

    “Linn!” Lorae’s positively fearful screech however cannot be ignored. Snapping my head to her I see my end just before my best friend sends a bullet barreling between my eyebrows.

    My last breath comes quick, shuttering through my aching lungs, but when my eyes close I’m not greeted by a brilliant white light or even scolding gates of hell. Instead I lie in darkness that is only brightened by the brief flashes of swimming lights. The only sound is the steady beat of my heart persisting that I continue to live.

    Breaking past the honestly tranquil state is a grueling sigh of frustration, “Dammit Linn. You died; a-fuckin’-gain. You have to go back…It’s a matter of life and death.”

  18. Observer Tim

    One last take – honest.
    _____

    I looked at Brandon in shock. “You’re Brandon Boswick, Monster Masher?”

    “That’s what it says on my birth certificate, Chet.”

    “It doesn’t say ‘Monster Masher’ on your birth certificate!”

    He shrugged, “You’re right. It says Brandon Monster Slayer Boswick, but I thought the alliteration would sound better.”

    “I thought that was just your parents being silly!”

    “No Chet, I’ve been slaying monsters all my life. Did my first solo kill when I was six; a first-grade werewolf.”

    “How come nobody knows about it?”

    “Everybody knows; they just don’t believe it. They figure I’m just a weird kid who makes up stories.”

    While we talked, Brandon snapped the magazine into his automatic shotgun and checked it over. We were just outside the cafeteria, where things had gone south since somebody cried “zombie”. The door was barred from this side with a couple of broom handles. Finally, he put on a pair of shop-class issue safety goggles and a dust mask.

    “What’s that for?”

    “Blood spatter. Now, where’s that eyewitness?”

    I looked around and spotted Mr. Dammerung, the Principal. I waved him over.

    “Has that been in your locker all semester, Brandon?”

    “Only when I’m at school, Mr. D. Now, tell me what you saw.”

    The Principal gulped a couple of times, then steadied himself. “It was horrible. The pale skin, the sunken eyes, the tattered clothes, and those macabre painted-on grins. And that horrible laughter! No!”

    “Mr. D, get it together! How many were there? How did they get in?”

    “There were eight of them, maybe nine. They drove in from the kitchen in Mr. Armitage’s smart car. People were screaming and yelling. I only barely got out with my life!”

    After that all he could do was whimper. Brandon looked thoughtful.

    “I’m not sure they’re zombies, Chet. We may need another strategy.”

    “Why, Brandon?”

    “They drove. Zombies don’t drive. Something’s not right; I need to get a look at them.”

    “Is there anything I can do?”

    “Yup. On my signal I want you to pull those broom handles so I can open the door a crack and see in. When I push the door to again, put them back. Got that?”

    “Sure Brandon, you can count on me.”

    On his signal I pulled the broom handles out. He opened the door and peeked in, then pushed it back shut forcefully.

    “Brace it! Brace it now!” He looked visibly shaken. His normal confident expression was gone, replaced with stark fear. I slid the handles into place again.

    “What’s wrong, Brandon?”

    “It’s worse than anything I’ve ever encountered. Zombies, werewolves, vampires, angry spirits, even mummies: those I can deal with. But this might be too much.”

    “What is it?”

    “Clowns. Somebody let a carload of clowns loose in the school. I’m going to need a bigger gun.”

  19. snuzcook

    (I gave a nod the the original prompt, but this distant variation requested some airtime.)

    UNDEAD (335 wds)

    It is early summer, and the warming water brings danger. Schools of fish are leaving, moving to deeper, cooler water while we remain, anchored in our beds, snug in our shells as the waters ebb and flow around us.

    The tide will be high soon. I can feel the irresistible pull drawing me upward from the dark, secure mud into the living waters and food.

    As our numbers grow with the season, so do the voracious hunters increase who walk on a thousand fingertips, with long arms to lever us away from the snug mud and rocks. We are lucky; the caretakers who rake our beds watch for predators, chopping them in to pieces and throwing them back into the water for hungry scavengers to consume.

    With the moonless tide and the dark of the night I feel safe. I rise with the elation of the tide and take in the rich broth all around me.

    Something stirs in the broad bed of my family. Gliding shadows, without a moon to form them, approach and we sense the silent protest of our cousins at the edge of the bed as their futile resistance is overwhelmed.

    A swarm of starfish, reanimated bits and pieces of chum, scarred by knives and grotesquely asymmetrical, follow their bellies back to the warm shallow beds where food had been denied them. They silently come to suck out our soft flesh, leaving only hollow shells to rattle among the rocks.

    There is no fear in the mud or the rocks or the rise of the tide. There is only now. And in this moment I am aware of the nearness of the undead things. In this moment I am one with the water that brings me life and the rock that anchors me. I know that in another moment yet unnamed I will be caressed by a hundred fingertips and become one with the undead hunter.

    And the tide will crest and it will fall and another day will dawn.

    1. Kerry Charlton

      I think these are the oysters gathered for an event of the San Antonio Fiesta each April. The Oyster Bake at Saint Mary’s University in San Antonio. How close did I come? I loved the analysis of life from the view of an un-pearled oyster. Bravo!

    2. margi33

      A poetic and sensory filled read, snuz. I enjoyed! And though I felt slightly sorry for said oyster, your piece did remind me of my delicious dinner last night and caused me to give thanks to his kind ;) .

  20. dabbins

    I was already in a bad mood. I was up late, getting my butt handed to me by ankle biting toddler zombies, who were surprisingly good at climbing walls. Cara broke it off with me two days before. I also couldn’t let people see the finger print scanner hidden behind the Bayonetta poster in my locker, so I had to purposely take my time cleaning out my locker. This meant I had to miss lunch, and I was starving. I stood there, in full “super hero” get-up, watching from the cafeteria door as my surviving classmates barricaded themselves with lunch tables from the raging teen zombies.
    “I knew it was the meatloaf,” I muttered to myself when Fred earlier told me there were zombies in the cafeteria.
    “What?” Fred asked, looking confused.
    “Nothing,” I growled. It was a really bad day and raging hormones didn’t help. “Go help the survivors make a barricade, I’ll check with the principal.”
    “What? You’re bailing out?!” Fred looked at me astonished.
    “Yes, I don’t want to be eaten by a zombie!” I shot back, which is the truth.
    “Didn’t peg you for a coward,” Fred said, shaking his head and running off toward the cafeteria. Make that one more way this day couldn’t get any better.
    I sighed and cringed as I tore off the poster and pressed my thumb to the little black nub. There was a click and the back of the locker slid open. Body armor, a thick coat, katanas, throwing knives, sawed off shot guns and axe body spray were stocked in full. Not to mention my mask, a motorcycle helmet with a skull spray painted on it with an exposed brain. I am the Brain Saver, after all.
    “Brain,” Max groaned as zombie-him lurched toward me in the cafeteria. I let the prick eat a buck shot. So it began.
    I moved quickly, slicing torsos, heads, acutely aware of the survivors watching me wide-eyed. A gunshot here, a sword through the head there, the occasional throwing knife through a zombie’s cranium. It was beautiful really.
    Then I saw her and I froze. Cara came toward me, pale skinned and groaning. My heart skipped and I almost dropped my weapons in defeat. Then I thought about her breaking up with me, about when we were together, it’s amazingly stupid what went through my mind as my ex girlfriend tried to eat my brain. I then thought about how I would never see her walking the halls again, never have those awkward moments of seeing each other. I never felt so angry.
    I yelled and hacked at her head, through her neck and her body. There was nothing left of her but a pile of gore. My mentor would have been pissed.
    I was yanked backwards, a zombie grabbed my collar. I wasn’t an amateur, I shouldn’t have been so stupid. It was Mark, the quarterback. I kicked, elbowed desperately, but his hold was strong. His massive hands pried at the mask. The glass of the helmet cracked and panic set in. I yelled and swung my fists at air, my head felt like it was about to explode.
    In moments like this, electricity or fire don’t help. Zombies don’t care if they’re being electrocuted, burned, drowned, or even cut in half.
    There was a loud bang and a warm splash and suddenly I was on my back on top of who used to be the school’s varsity quarter back. A SWAT officer leaned over and stared at me, I waved at the officer and saw the sagging shoulders of relief. Thanks mom, I thought.
    Cleanup was rough. There were two students bitten in the incident and they were sent to one of the cities many quarantine zones. My boss/ mom both chided and complemented me, as is her way.
    Haz-mat folks cleaned up the gore. There was a stain where Cara’s body fell. It must have been really faint because I seemed to be the only one who noticed.

      1. dabbins

        Thank you. I definitely wanted to leave something fun and comic-bookish. I find that lately zombie stories have been so dower and this actually inspired me to think up a comic book idea. Good thoughts…

  21. Jay

    Mister Misery

    Do I dare to dream of the days before the outbreak? Can my reminiscence help me find peace though my actions caused the deaths of millions of people? Will I ever find redemption?

    I stood in that cold hallway, repeatedly wiping the sweat from my brow. I looked into the mirror just inside my open locker and the person staring back was not the one I’d watched grow into a man. The icy blue accusatory eyes watched me as an unknown guilt crawled up my spine.

    I shivered, and quickly looked away as the clock struck noon on the last day of high school–and consequently, the last day for humanity. I wondered how much longer it would be before those who wronged me paid with their lives.

    Chad, my good friend and the one I fell in love with freshman year, came running down the hallway just south of the cafeteria. His exertion painted his cheeks rosy and white, and he breathed heavily as though the world was going to end.

    He screamed through heaves of what sounded like thick viscous air, “You gotta hurry… the cafeteria… people are… dying.”

    I put my hand on his shoulder, and though I wanted to smile with the subtle recognition of revenge, the fact that I’d murdered people had an unequivocally sobering effect.

    I turned back to my locker to clean out the last few items: a pencil, a pen, a valentine’s card from Chad, and a comb. I wondered how the comb got in there because the hair on my head was as wild as the weeds upon a grassy hillside. Then I thought about Chad, who always had amazing hair. Hell, he had many amazing features. Gorgeous brown eyes, thin powerful lips that stretched into a big beautiful smile, and the way his eyebrows lit up when he looked at me. I took a deep loving breath and stuffed the comb into the bag with the rest of my things.

    Chad grabbed my arm, and he did it hard. I turned to him with surprise because he’d never grabbed me like that before.

    He said, “Seriously, you need to come see this. Everyone is dyin’, man… everyone.”

    My skin tensed with gooseflesh. Suddenly everything became surreal. The realization that what I’d done was killing more than just the people that hurt me—more than just the people that deserved it—made me sick.

    “Come on, we gotta help them!” Chad said and grabbed my hand. He pulled me toward the cafeteria, and at first, I resisted him. I mean, what person who couldn’t even stand the thought of killing people would want to watch his own creation at work. Even if the people I wanted to kill were part of that group, I didn’t want to see it. Somehow not watching, not being there, made it only half as real. I relented, however, and followed him to ground zero.

    When I arrived at the cafeteria, I looked through the small crosshatched glass window. Inside the room were hundreds of my classmates crawling over each other. They didn’t look any different except for the dead stare in their eyes. They had wounds on various parts of their bodies, and most had blood spilling from their mouths. One of them crashed through the window, and they filed out in the city like a bunch dark shuffling lemmings.

    I backed away from the door, and when I hit the wall on the other side of the corridor I said, “I never meant for this to happen.”

    “What?” Chad said, and he came to me. As I slid down the wall, and knelt next to me. “What are you saying?”

    I said in an almost inaudible whisper, “I did this.”

    “Babe, I can’t here you.” He said, and when he put his hand on my shoulder, I flinched.

    “I did this.” I said, but louder this time.

    “What do you mean?”

    “Last night I… drained the pool. I refilled it and put… that bacteria in there.” I said and buried my face in my hands. “Oh, God… I killed them all.”

    Chad took his hand off my shoulder, and he moved a bit away.

    He said, “What bacteria? I don’t understand.”

    “God, don’t you see, Chad? Remember that kid that got sick from that Fowleri bacteria? I just thought it would kill those assholes, I never imagined what it would do in large scale.”

    “I don’t understand, why would you do that? Why would you kill people? How the fuck did you even get all that bacteria?”

    I cried and the tears poured between my trembling fingers. “I grew it. Months and months in my basement. Dank and dark, it thrived there. I fed it and cultivated it and it grew.”

    “What did you do?” He said, though I suspected he was being rhetorical.

    “I killed everyone.” I said, answering him anyway.

    For a while, we were silent. It was obvious Chad was still trying to figure out how I could have done the things that I did, but his emotional suffering didn’t last long. You see, not long after that moment, he became one of those things.

    Among those that I loved that suffered as well were my mother, my father, and my little sister. Apparently, the bacteria transferred to the water supply, and it infected almost everyone. Within a few days, most of the world was gone.

    With just a few of us survivors remaining, we found refuge in the cold mountains where the bacteria couldn’t survive.

    As I sit in safety, recounting the moments that led up to the death of so many people, I’m not seeking your understanding for my actions. I won’t pretend that you should feel any sort of sympathy, empathy, or pity for me. What I did killed millions of people, and for that I expect nothing but pure contempt from you. With that said, the only reason I tell you this story is so you know why the world ended. It is merely to teach you that when educating the future and repopulating this world, you can teach our young to respect and love those around them so another like me is never again born from humanity’s malevolence.

    1. snuzcook

      *puts hand on shoulder* Yes, there have been too many killings in schools these days. This story draws from that place in all of us as we watch the news who want to hit the giant REWIND button for those affected. Don’t know if that’s where this came from for you, but that’s where it landed for me.
      Well done.

      1. Jay

        Thanks, snuz. I haven’t read the news for few days, work kind of gets in the way, so I can’t say I drew inspiration from it, but after checking the news I can see where that might make sense. The story has a model for revenge, but only takes place in a school as a result of the prompt. I think the worst part is that there shouldn’t be a congruence with reality when dealing with something like this, but apparently kids for some reason like to target schools these days.

        That said, I really hope this story doesn’t upset anyone, as that isn’t my intention.

  22. Marc Ellis

    Excited chatter and the smell of cleaning spray filled the hallway as the students of Mercedes Academy cleaned their lockers for the summer.

    Clement could have finished fifteen minutes ago, but she purposely left a few paperclips and broken pencils at the bottom of her locker hoping Daniel would soon arrive to clean his.

    Daniel, arguably the most handsome boy in her class, was assigned a locker next to hers this year. Unfortunately, Daniel had a girlfriend, Lilith, and she was with him when he finally arrived.

    “Hi,” said Clement.

    “You’ll miss Danny…won’t you?” said Lilith. Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of him.” She smiled at Clement as she wrapped her arms around him from behind and slid her hands into his front jeans pockets.

    Clement was sure that she would. As much as Clement loathed her, she coveted the way the school uniform fit Lilith. Clement’s uniform repelled boys.

    Daniel shoved the contents of his locker into a gym bag and said, “Have a good summer.”

    “You too,” said Clement.

    As they disappeared around the corner, Agatha came running down the hall. Gasping for air, Agatha said, “You have to come with me right now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

    “Sure it is.”

    Agatha was hysterical and incoherent. “I’m not kidding. There’s blood everywhere. It’s spreading,” she sobbed. “We have to get out of here.”

    Clement suspected the worst. “I can stop this. I need you to trust me.”

    Clement and Agatha rushed to the cafeteria. The unnatural movements, the crazed rage, and the blood-covered faces were confirmation that several of the students were now zombies.

    Clement retrieved a small mirror from her backpack and smashed it on the floor. With the largest shard she slit her wrists.

    “What are you doing?” screamed Agatha.

    “Get out of here…Now!” Clement began to wipe her profusely bleeding wrists across her face, neck, and arms. She ran to the end of the cafeteria opposite the doors. When the zombies, including the ones guarding the doors, started to move in her direction, she yelled, “Everyone…Out!”

    At first, the pain was excruciating as the zombies began to scratch, tear and bite. As each one tasted her, it would vomit blood and body parts, stumble away, and fall motionless.

    As they feasted on her flesh, the pain faded and the world started to blur. In the last moments of consciousness, she saw Daniel and Lilith peering down at her with their wild, blood-streaked expressions. Clement whispered, “I forgive you.” Lilith shrieked and lunged at her throat as Clement succumbed to the darkness.

    That evening a TV reporter provided his comments. Men in biohazard gear were spraying down the school with chemicals.

    “The CDC suspects this was a mutation of the Ebola virus,” said the reporter. “Students describe an eruption of chaos and violence. Most of the victims seem to be making a full recovery other than those with the most severe physical injuries.”

    The reporter paused to read his notes. “The CDC also suspects that one of the victims was naturally immune resulting in the rapid abatement of the infection.”

    1. jmcody

      You turned this into a compelling tale of good and evil with Lilith (a demon name meaning “of the night”) and Clement (“merciful, good”). I loved that it was Clement’s forgiveness that was Lilith’s ultimate undoing. Except for the fact that she seems to have recovered in the end, Clement’s character was that of a martyr. This was a profound and inspired take on a very silly prompt, and well-written as always. Bravo, Marc!

      1. Marc Ellis

        Thank you jmcody. I appreciate that you teased out the names and the associated characters’ roles in the story. I had a lot of words to cut to make this closer to 500, so I feel like I lost some of what I thought to be a few of the more artistic/symbolic elements. Again, I’m glad you saw what was left.

    2. Jay

      The saddest part of this story is that Clement somehow knew her blood carried an antibody that was resistant, even fatal, to the mutated ebola virus, and because she knew about her immunity to the virus, she must have had the aforethought to figure out a way to use her blood in a way that didn’t result in her death. She didn’t seem like an idiot to me, so that leads me to believe that she sacrificed herself for no other reason that because she really couldn’t deal with life, a selfish (and insane) suicide under the guise of righteous sacrifice.

      It really struck me as odd that she forgave Lilith. Was it because the girl was about to eat her? It could’ve been, but then she probably would’ve forgiven both of them. Then I wonder why didn’t she forgive Daniel, too? Unless he was completely oblivious, he had to notice the way Lilith treated Clement when it came to the relationship between the three of them. Either that, or despite Clement’s supposed scarifice for the good of all, she still believed Daniel to be a good person in all this. I mean, if he allowed Lilith to be that way toward Clement, wasn’t he just as much guilty and in need of forgiveness?

      I have a lot of questions about it, but it was entertaining nevertheless. Thanks for sharing, Marc!

      1. Marc Ellis

        Thanks Jay for your comments. I had way more to add than what 500 words would allow. In my head, the “cure” was as much a spiritual/magical event as it was biological. Not only the element of her blood, but her death/sacrifice was also required to stop and remedy the “evil” plague. The point of the forgiveness line was to show how “good” she was. She loved the people enough to give herself for their cure even when they were ugly on the inside like Litlith. The longer story also describes Clement as a soft-spoken social misfit with most of the school disinterested or disapproving of her as a person. I think ending this story with the Ebola news report cheapened it a bit. I assume we’ll get a new prompt as early as tomorrow, so I buttoned things up to get a post in.

        1. Jay

          I see, it all makes sense now. That’s interesting it required her sacrifice/death to complete the eradication of the affliction. I wonder, then, would her sacrifice have saved anyone from anything? Such as, if people were turning into blood-thirsty werewolves or demonic ankle-biters would it have had the same effect. In that sense, it’s far more logical that she killed herself and also gives reason as to why she had no other alternative. Damn, Marc… I think you should just go for broke and break the 500 limit next time if you think it’s worth it. ;) It seems like you had an amazing story to tell! Damn all the rules. haha

  23. smallPencil

    I scanned the cafeteria. “Whoa.”

    “Yeah, man. They’re zombies. Freaking zombies!” screamed my best friend, Nate. Nate’s brow was furrowed and his eyes, wide. He looked constipated.

    “I’ve never tried to handle this many at once,” I said, more to myself than Nate. The zombies were spread across the far end of the cafeteria. I strolled to the center and turned around, putting my back to them.

    “What the hell are you doing?!”

    I put my arms out, like the Rio Jesus. “Tell me, Nate, have you ever seen me take a sick day?”

    “What?! Yes! You take sick days all the time! You take more sick days than anyone I know.”

    Oh, right. “But you know I’m just playing hooky. I mean have you ever seen me really sick?”

    “Have you ever seen ME sick?”

    “Um, er…” He had me there. I suppose the minor illnesses of others are not particularly memorable. “Okay,” I said, “so I guess I can’t prove it, but look -”

    “No, you look! Behind you!” Nate pierced the air with his finger.

    Seconds later teeth sunk into my left shoulder. I cried out. Then I grimaced and smiled. Behind me a zombie moaned. The sound rose in pitch till it became the moan of a teenaged girl. I reached back, grabbed a handful of hoodie, and flung her forward. Then I planted my foot in her lower back and shoved her toward Nate. It was Meghan Carpenter, a cute-enough, brunette cheerleader. She fell to the floor and rolled to a stop at Nate’s feet. “You want to help? Find her bite wound and bandage it before she bleeds to death.” Nate tore off his shirt, produced a pocket knife, and cut off a strip of material. Something bit into my left elbow, into my right bicep. I grunted in pain.

    When he finished applying a tourniquet to Meghan’s arm, Nate looked at me. “How the hell did you do that?”

    “I have a super power.”

    “What?!”

    “Yeah. A super power. My body instantly annihilates any virus, or bacteria – any microbial bad guy.”

    “If you’re killing the thing animating them, why aren’t they dying?”

    “They haven’t been zombies long enough, luckily.”

    “Fine, but you don’t have to let them bite you, bro! Just fling your blood at them!”

    I felt teeth sink into my left thigh. My right calf. My left side. “Won’t work.” I was getting woozy. I struggled to get the words out. “Has to be -”I collapsed into a pool of my own blood. A handful of confused teens stood over me. Zombies pushed past them. “Too… man-”

    Darkness closed in. It was replaced by a brilliant white light. A figure hovered before me. It had white wings, a halo, and a face made of blinding light and peace. It beckoned. I lifted my spirit leg and peed on it.

    “What are you doing?!” it cried, in a voice of wind chimes and harp music.

    “I own you, now.”

    And that is the story of how I came to be a dead guy who owns an angel. You can make them do all kinds of tricks.

    1. lionetravail

      What a bizarre twist, but the last paragraph was so dry and matter of fact, while being so absurdly out there that it jus sold it for me. Nicely done.

    2. snuzcook

      After I got my face back from screaming “WHAT!?!?!”, I realized that I get your story. It’s such an irreverent twist on the apparent self-sacrifice plot; this guy had no intention of being a martyr–he was all about control and making his own rules. He just miscalculated and ended up with a bonus angel which he then gets to control.

      Interesting response to the prompt; very creative.

  24. moscoboy

    Do or Die

    It was the last day of school and I was cleaning out my cluttered locker when Bobby ran up to me and said, “You have to come with me right not, it’s a matter of life and death.”

    Bobby was a freshman; he was pale and panting as he held on to my shoulder for support while he caught his breath. “Come on Dale, we’ve got zombies in the cafeteria. I’m afraid that after they finish eating the lunch stragglers they’ll be out roaming the halls looking for fresh meat.”

    I slammed my locker door so loud that Sally and Trudy started screaming and yelling, “Dale, Bobby please don’t fight.”

    I yelled back as we marched towards the cafeteria, “We’re not fighting and for heavens sake don’t go to the cafeteria. Call 911 and tell them we have an out of control food fight.”

    We rounded the corner of a long hall and looked at the carnage. I counted five zombies feasting on legs and arms of my friends. There were two new kids I never got around to meeting and I felt sad for not knowing who they were. I mentally reproached myself for being too preoccupied at the ranch.

    I had been in this situation before and I knew it would take less than ten minutes before the zombies would look for fresh blood and would wander out of the cafeteria.

    “Look Bobby, we don’t have time for questions, you have to do exactly what I say and trust me.”

    “Dude,” said Bobby, “I scared shitless, I’ll do whatever you say to survive.”

    “Good, here’s the plan. You go to the utility room and get a couple of broom or mop handles so you can block the cafeteria doors. I’m going to back to the hall and get the fire axe. All you’ll have to do is let them come out one at a time and the fire axe and I will do the rest.”

    Bobby’s feet were cemented to the floor tile with a spaced out look on his face. “We’ve had a case of Chupacabra’s raiding our herds. Two weeks ago dad and I found the culprits. In a dry embankment were two vampires, dad killed one and I killed the other one. Come on, I know what I’m doing.”

    Bobby worked the story in his head and was gone. I backed up to get the axe and bumped into Principal Fogerty who had blood all over his mouth and suit, he eyed me up and down. I was two feet away from the fire axe. I performed a left head fake and as the zombie lunged I pivoted in the opposite direction and used my right elbow to break the glass and get the red axe.

    The handle was smooth and the death instrument was well balanced as I spiked the head of the zombie principal, one down, and five to go.

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