“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Gabriel asked, annoyed. He blinked rapidly, clearing away more of the blurriness, until he could see that this wasn’t Joe and the others. He was surrounded by zombies. Gabriel let out a yelp and fell backwards, only to be shoved again from that side. This time the shove balanced him onto his feet, and he turned around to find that there were more zombies back in that direction, cutting off his path to the inside of the hospital. He turned toward the parking lot, only to see zombies had moved into position there, as well. He continued circling and found that he was surrounded on all sides by the undead. They had trapped him in, with nowhere to run. He felt like crying. He felt like panicking. But neither would help him then. So he closed his eyes, tucked his chin into his shoulder, and waited for the end. But nothing happened. Gabriel could hear some shuffling of feet, some of the eerie, inhuman moans that seemed to be an involuntary sound that the
“Turn out all your pockets, then,” said the big man. Gabriel did as he was told, or at least as well as he could seeing as most of the pockets in his cargo pants weren’t really designed for being turned out.When the others were satisfied he wasn’t carrying anything, the man tipped his head up to indicate Gabriel should move through the turnstile.Once through, the first figure motioned for him to stand on a line taped to the floor. She was holding one of the devices from the table in her right hand, a weird thing that looked a little like an electric razor only with a sharp point at the end instead of round blades. Once he was in place she said, “Roll up your sleeve and place your left arm on the table.”“What?” he asked stupidly. “Left sleeve. Arm. Table,” she answered, pointing at each thing in turn as she said it.Gabriel stared at the device in her hands but otherwise did not move. “What are you going to do with that?” he asked.Hands grabbed him from behind, pulling at his
“Uh… no,” replied Gabriel , noting strong hints of what seemed like a British accent in the creatures voice. “It’s an old term for a creature that slowly spreads through a village like a plague.”“Ah, such as the Vourdalak.”Gabriel blinked in surprise at this comment, stunned into silence.“Yes, well,” the creature continued, “it has long been the modus operandi of your kind to blame others for your own wrong doings. Judging from the state of things, I would say you plagued yourselves plenty well enough on your own without any help from me or mine. No doubt you still think yourself clever for the snide comment, however.”Gabriel had felt clever for the remark, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that now.The vampire placed his cane on the ground and leaned on it with both hands, bending down to stare at Gabriel from a smaller distance.“Where are your others?” he asked.Gabriel ’s eyes widened, but he just shook his head. “What others?”“Don’t lie to me. We returned to the
At the end of the line Gabriel found another big building, which he knew the moment he stepped inside had to be a barracks. It was like a much larger version of the living quarters at the compound they had found in Texas. Just four long lines of beds stretching across the length of the room, with no care shown for privacy or individuality. All part of the process of breaking the spirit.“Newbie.”Gabriel turned toward the sound of the voice, to see someone, a prisoner, not a guard, judging from his clothes, staring at him. The stranger pointed toward the far wall and said, “You’ll want to see the manager. Hurry up.”Following with his eyes to where the man was pointing, Gabriel could see a window set into the wall, and realized there was probably some kind of office over there. He nodded a quick thanks to the man, only to discover he had already walked away, and then headed down the lines of beds toward the office.The door to the small room was open, and inside he found a woman se
Paul Brighton could feel his stomach churning as he watched the news on the television. He convinced himself that he could feel it from his head to the tips of his toes, and it was an extremely unpleasant sensation. His stomach couldn't be the only thing churning. His entire body must have been shaking. It was like the world was some way or another turning in ideal chance to his body, so that despite the fact that maybe he was standing by, he was as a matter of fact in an exceptionally fast, extremely perilous spiral that took steps to spill his inner parts across the research center floor.“Normally, Tyler Adam, Paul's boss and a tall, bald, and irritable forty-something, would not have been pleased that there were any outside electronics in the room. This is an examination research center," he would have yelled at Paul in his feeble, stressing voice that seemed as though it had spent an excessive number of its years not being put to any utilization, "not a cinema," or whatever other
However, Alan's voice and motionless body suggested that he was rejecting all logic and reality.We sought to alter our lives and take control because we were dissatisfied with our destiny. We tried to go to places man was never intended to go, to see things man was never intended to see. Now that we have cursed ourselves, we are doomed to face our own worst nightmares and then vanish, leaving behind no trace of our existence. The only thing that will remain is a small, plain sign that reads, "Here be monsters." And the name of that monster is "Man."That concludes it, Paul thought, He is a raving madman.Paul straightened up and returned to the television-equipped table with a resigned sigh. Additionally, there was a pitiful first aid kit on the table that contained a thermometer, a packet of ibuprofen, a free trial tube of topical antibiotic, a cold pack, an elastic wrap, and some small adhesive bandages that were not suitable for more than the tiniest of cuts and scrapes. If Paul h
He stopped abruptly, and as he looked out the window, his excitement dropped sharply. He was curious about the weather outside. In Texas, it was still late August, just before school started, so it was undoubtedly extremely hot. But was there any rain? Cloudy? Windy? If he still had access to the internet, he would look it up online. He knew in the back of his mind that he could just open the blinds and look out the window for a few seconds to get the basic idea, but doing so would let all that awful natural light into the apartment. The thought made him tremble. He could tell that it was daylight and probably not more than a little cloudy because there was already enough sunlight coming through. He decided that would suffice until he reached the outside. In the event that conditions were terrible it was just a short stroll down to his vehicle and afterward he would be out of it once more. He could always go back inside and wait for a while longer if that wasn't enough.He should be a
Gabriel screamed, not out of fear but rather out of an animalistic rage at the irrationality of the situation and the neighbor. He then raised the jar once more and slammed it directly into the woman's head. He was not discouraged, even though there was no effect once more. He did this once more, then again, and again. Gabriel heard the sickening sound of bones breaking under the assault each time, like a hurricane roar, but his attacker didn't seem to notice as she continued to eat his shoe. Therefore, he continued to beat her, striking her repeatedly, until he realized that she had stopped gnawing after a few hits and that her head was merely a disgusting, bloody pulp.Gabriel stood up and freed his foot before gasping for air and collapsing against a nearby wall. He had long since forgotten about the jar when it fell from his hand. He held back the urge to vomit as he stood motionless in his living room and stared at the remains of his neighbor. His psyche was turning, and in spite