Look at His Pain! - A Zombie Attack

Look At His Pain! 

It had only been one day since the infected escaped the lab and the unimaginable has happened. This virus has mutated and spread throughout the population faster than anyone could have ever imagined. Even the scientists that ran the initial experiment are on the run, attempting to escape the storm of undead that approach.

  “…God, the plagued army approaches,” John exclaimed. “Oh God, what have I done? Quickly men… Run”

          “John, follow your own advice brother,” George cried out to his colleague, “you cannot win!”

          “No one can!” Richard said, “We must find shelter.”

           John peered at Richard, “Shelter, we do not need shelter, we need a laboratory; a lab where I can find an antidote for this festering rot.”

          “I do not care if you blame yourself for this infestation, it’s about survival now,” Richard fired back. “Haven’t we lost enough already.”

            As the group of scientists ran for their lives, they made a startling discovery. One of them was unfortunately ensnared by this hoard. From a distance the mutation was clear, the rotting flesh, their moans, their wretched smell overwhelming everything and everyone in their path. Paul was in grave danger.

           George glanced down the hill, “John--Richard… Paul cannot hear us. He is trapped down there with those vile things.”

           “Sadly, we cannot wait for him much longer. While tragic, his sacrifice may be our salvation. We must survive!” John said, looking back toward the others, “A cure for my mistake is all that can truly save us.”
            “Give up already John, too much blood has been shed already,” Richard replied, “We must find shelter; survive.”

            “Quick, give me that rock,” George called out, “Paul is trapped by that disease ridden blonde. With a perfect shot, maybe I can buy him some time.”

            “No! George; Paul decided to venture out of our session into this pandemic on his own,” John said, “That arrogant prick deserves what he has coming to him.” 

             “John, let it be,” George said, “No one deserves to be put through that. Help me… Save him!”

             “George, for once I agree with John; at this moment, we are better off without him,” Richard said, “We must escape before those zombies find us.”

             “Oh God, look… Paul… No-o-o! The pain, oh God, no, look at his pain.” George screamed, “The skulls, not the skull, th-th-they are eating him!”

             “What George, no way!” John said, “They must be mutating… We must find a lab!”

             “I do not know about you, but any type of shelter would be perfect right now,” Richard said.

             “Oh God, they are sharing him; engulfing him,” George sobbed. “Those maggot lovers are drinking his blood!” 

           The revolting sea was indeed devouring him; his screams for assistance drowned by the disturbing sound of his meat being torn apart. They tore him limb from limb until his divine grey was unveiled for the mass. They were fighting each other off for a chance at one piece of his delicious meat. His last chance of survival snuffed out by a single bad decision. What was the world coming to?

            “George, you are right! We must find shelter… Give me time to go through my journals,” John muttered. “The answer must be there, it has to be.”

              “Come on guys, over there,” Richard said, “the cemetery gates are open, maybe we can find a crypt to barricade ourselves into. Maybe the smell of death will keep them away.”
               “Yes… Yes… The cemetery is a great idea Richard,” John said, “our redemption can begin with the Lord!”

               “George... Come quickly before they see you, Paul’s death will allow our escape,” cried Richard.

               “Look, that tomb, the door, that could be perfect!” John said moving through the gates, “there I can hopefully determine where my formula went wrong.”

               “Enough already John; we are in no position to attempt any type of experiment. Maybe once this hoard passes, we can return to our lab by the river,” Richard scoffed. “Maybe we can return to where this plague began.”

               “George, over here!” shouted John as he entered the vault.

               “I’m here, close the door!” George screamed as he took the final steps into the ossuary.

                Richard looked at their situation, “we should be safe here; maybe we will survive this terror.”

          “Maybe,” John replied, “if we are lucky.”

            Incredibly, it appeared as though the tomb may save them, as the undead mob went by instead of searching the cemetery for dinner. What as it that kept them away, was it the overwhelming scent of decay? The scientists sat staring at their temporary sanctuary, thankful to be alive.  They were thankful that they did not become like Paul.