Victim #27

October 18th 2010

8:00am - Time for sch...

   "Wake up! Wake up!" My mother shouted at me.

   "Aww, muuuum!" I moaned, "Five more minutes, please!"

   "No time for that now." She said, "They're coming!"

   "What?" I sat up, puzzled, "Who's coming?"

   "The army." She explained, "You wouldn't know why, you were asleep, but it all happened over night and the army are handing out guns and ammo to the people."

   "Why?" I asked as she turned to leave the room.

   "The zombies are coming." She said simply, adn hurried out of the room.

   Zombies? I thought to myself as I quickly got dressed in a black metal T-shirt and jet black jeans. I got down stair to hear the news report.

   "Late last night, there were a series of transformations, all in the same area, by the same person." The newscaster continued, "This one man is said to be controlled by a supervirus, which he grew illegally at his home in London. This supervirus is said to spread from one person to the next through being bitten and he has already created a massing horde of newly transformed people which continues to ravage England. The British army are doing everything they can to stop the ever growing horde, of what we can now call, zombies. They are even fighting wave after wave of zombies so I can bring this broadcast to all of you. I wish you all good luck, and I doubt you'll see me on television any---"

   He was cut off. Presumably, the radio antenna on the television centre had fallen down, or something. Knock, knock, knock. There was a knocking at the door and my father answered it. Standing in the doorway was an army private, no more than 23 years old.

   "Here." He said, as he gave my father some weapons and ammo, "These are M4 carbines and these are M9's." He then gave us a demonstration on how to reload and shoot the guns before wishing us luck and leaving for the next house.

   "Honey, baracade the doors and windows," My father said to my mother, "And use our son to help with the heavy lifting."

   She nodded and gestured for me to follow her to the garage to get some hammers and nails.

10:00am - Finishing the blockade

   By ten o'clock we had finsihed baracading the house. I took the oppotunity of a break to run up to my room and check my phone for text messages. Suprisingly there was some signal, and I had a text from my girlfriend.

   "Jst herd on news tht zmbies r cming, I'll nvr b abl 2 c u agen, so I wntd 2 say I love you nd I'll nvr frget u. Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

   I texted back saying, "I kno. I'll mis u :-( nd I love you 2 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

   The text was sent, if she get's it, I don't know, but I hope so...I really hope so.

15:00pm - They're here...

   Bang! Bang! Bang!

   They were here. The zombies, they were here and trying to break down the door. The only things that could protect us now were our weapons and our blockades. My father let lose a few bullets through the door to try and scare them off, but they just kept coming, more and more started banging on the doors and windows and it was only a matter of time before they got in. I was picking them off with my pistol from my bedroom window, as it overlooked the front door. It was no use, they were everywhere, it was a sea of bodies out there. As soon as one went down, two more took it's place. It was hopeless.

18:00pm - Certain death

   Come 6 in the evening, they became ever more active as night drew closer and they broke down the door to our house. My father let rip with his M4 carbine taking out many enemies with one clip. He reloaded quickly and fired again, but they just kept coming. I gave him cover fire as he reloaded for a second time and took out more zombies, he would run out of ammo soon.

   Eventually they became too much for us and I escaped to see my father comsumed by a writhing mass of diseased, flesh-ridden bodies. He was gone. The only father I would ever have, and he was gone. I never realised how much I cared for him, until I saw him rise up from the bodies and snarl at me as disease ate his flesh.

   It was just me, and my mother and we were stopping them from coming up the stairs. We had used up most of the ammo and still the zombies kept coming, wave after wave of them. I even had to put a bullet between the eyes of my own father and no child should have to do that to their parent.

   Now it was my mother's turn to fall. She was overrun by them trying to carve a path through them to reach more ammo that was downstairs. It was just me, and I was as scared as anyone faced with certain death in the form of massing zombies. I ran into my room and baracaded my door with whatever I could push up against it. My mother was almost certainly diseased now and I dreaded to think what I'd have to do to her if she got in here.

   I had a small stash of ammo and a machine gun to use if they got in, which of course they did. I let rip and shot and killed many zombies and while the other tried to clamber over their fallen comrades I reloaded and killed them too.

19:00pm - *NO AMMO*

   I had finally run out of ammo and I was overrun by them. The pain inflicted on me by one bite was immense, I had never felt such pain in my life before, the supervirus took hold so fast. I have no control over my own body, the supervirus has taken over my brain and is controlling me. The only thing us diseased can do is watch as our bodies cause destruction and create millions more of us.

   The funny thing is, that I was going to put on corpse paint, and dress up as a zombie for Halloween. It seems corpse paint is not needed, for I am a walking corpse. I chuckled to my rational self, Oh the irony!

The End

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