Lunging forward, the sallow cheeks drown below the bones, eyes wide and pupils wider. Graying skin and rotting smells cover the city. Death. Death is all that's left in this world, this world of corpses and their craving of crimson. Every mouth teems for a bite, an appendage of a survivor. Appendages suffice, though their thirst lies in the heart, forcing the blood down their throats. A meal fit for the dead, though not quite complete in trip. These men, women, children, demons of the earth, their populations increase thousands upon millions. Who will save us now?
The seconds slip away, one leap will determine my fate. Seconds aren't long enough, these creatures travel fast. Though dead in spirit, their muscles are very much alive. I risk a glance over my shoulder and a terror I never knew creeps on me. One foot trips over another. Closer. Closer to the compound. Closer to the undead. Their legs work like cheetahs, scrambling over one another, greed snarling in their teeth. Blood curdling screams echo in my ears. Screams of hunger, desire. A need beyond any addiction: flesh.
The compound's fence in arms reach, I leap and grab hold, electric fences disabled. They took out the power long ago. Clambering to lift one arm up after another, my feet doing the same. I look down to see the corpses gowned in rags, bearing their blood-stained teeth, groaning in pleasure of a fleshy meal, and a heart! Oh, the delicious pulsing hearth ripping through their teeth, saliva dripped from their mouths in delight of a prospective meal. Foot after arm, lifting each other up one at a time. However, an unexpected flaw tore through my strategy. I had not moved fast enough, a hefty corpse sprung up three feet onto the fence; links in left, my leg in right! In a panicked fright, I swung my foot around, reefing it to let loose, but his grip was secure. He pulled, reeling me in as his catch of the night. My fingers strained to keep hold of the fence, but slipped under the pressure. Tears streamed out of my eyes, the last joint of my fingers clung before I fell to the feast. Frantically I kicked my feet in protest, hoping to release his grip. Instead mine released, dropping two feet lower to the surrounding crowd of the one hundred dead before my fingers catch another link in the fence.
The corpse's hand wrapped around my leg tightens, squeezing it numb and tugging it closer. He wills my arms to give in. His claws dig in to my skin and draw blood which tracks down my leg into my shoe. He smells it and perks up, intrigued, as he knows he's close. The others smell it as well, and their blood drive increases. They are now also leaping at my legs and the blood they seek.
My hands can't take it anymore, slipping with sweat. The rings fall away as my grip diminishes. I careen backwards off the fence in the midst of the crowd. Staring. Staring up at the black sky and a red hazy moon. The air rushes around me as the ground emerges to meet me, whipping my hair across my face streaked with sweat, dirt, anxiety. Judgment is nothing to fear, for I am already in hell. My back smashes into the ground and my head follows. Black unconsciousness outlines my sight and the last I see is the thirsty creatures snarling, lunging above me for the first taste. The blood-red moon above their heads, I know what comes next.