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Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Austin
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 | I Learn Everything From George Romero (4) |
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 5 with 4 vote(s)
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| Created: 2012-02-10 19:59:18 |
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Another part... Not much to sum up. There’s more profanity in here than usual. Oh well, what would you do if you were being chased by a pack of zombies? I sure as hell know I’d have the same emotions he expresses, if not worse. Enjoy (:
Lyrics are from This Night by Black Lab.
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“There are things I have done. There’s a beast, and I let it run. Now it’s running, running my way.”
I understood then that they knew my position. They weren’t tripping over their feet anymore. Their undead drools turned into a horrifing uproar. I felt my heart leap into my throat and before I could stop myself, I shrieked. Pounding my fists off the wooden doors, I felt my the skin on my knuckles start to deteriorate. It wasn’t long before I had obscured the door in blood from my own ripped hands. I was terrified — I knew I didn’t have much to live for, but I wasn’t ready to die yet.
Especially not like this. I couldn’t imagine the splitting pain of being torn apart alive. I couldn’t live through the nuisance or the terror of their jagged teeth tearing into my body and taking chunks out, bite by bite. I wouldn’t want to look up and remember that gory chaos as the last thing I would ever see. If anything, I wanted to leave this apocalypse in peace.
“HELP! HELP ME!” I screamed, again and again, and eventually felt my eyes swell with hot tears. I knew they were in there. I knew they heard me, there was no way they couldn’t of. I felt my heart drop in disappointment — I’d been here before... too anxious and too startled to open my own door.
Is this how she felt? This same paralyzing fear? I didn’t want to move anymore. I quit screaming and let my fists find their way down the bloodstained doors. Was this really it? This was all I ever lived for?
I watched as they charged at me, stumbling over their feet, shoving their way through a mass of lifeless leeches to next meal. Or should I say next victim? I blinked hastily and felt my face flush with hot tears. I wasn’t ashamed. I was proud I actually hadn’t shxt myself yet.
It took me a couple of seconds to process it, and I wasted my time standing there like an idiot, like I was one of them already. I snapped back toward the door and beat my fists off the door as if my life depended on it. Which techinally, it did. I was well aware with the fact that my whole entire life depended on getting inside of this building.
“OPEN THE GODDXMN DOOR!”
I wasn’t nice about it this time, I didn’t beg — I demanded. I felt like a monster, but they were going to open this door because I said so. They were going to open this door because MY life depended on it.
Like magic, the door hurled open. I didn’t hesitate, I sprung my a'ss through that door without an invitation. I didn’t need one. As soon as I was inside, I slammed the wooden doors closed, pressing my back against the bitter, barbed material for support. I wouldn’t let them in here, I wouldn’t.
It didn’t take them long to find me. I heard them bang on the door and skin their fingernails along the coarse wood. I buckled under their weight, but I was strong enough to keep the door shut. I wasn’t sure if the strength came from pure adrenaline or God, Jesus, who the fxck ever. All I was sure about was that for right now, I was alive. I wasn’t a meal for apathetic beast tonight. Not tonight.
They stayed for hours. I grew steadily tired after time, their moans like some kind of fxcked up lullaby, staying concious only because I knew better than to let go. Eventually, they grew tired too. Their fists were probably bruised and injured, and their mouths were probably dry and aching. They gradually calmed down, stepping over their lifeless feet in a herd away from the building. There were others to find, somewhere, there were others.
It took me a while to pacify. I slid down the door onto the floor and buried my head in my hands. I heard myself gasp... in — delight, thankfullness? Or was it misery, depression?
I soon settled down enough to drift into a heavy doze. And I couldn’t even escape them then. No matter where I went, they hung on my back like leeches. I couldn’t step outside without them an inch behind my back, and I couldn’t sleep without those undead monsters on my mind. No matter where I went, I couldn’t escape them. I would die in an apocalypse to live one. |
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