The Living Dead

The virus has been released.
The air is poisonous.
Seek shelter or turn into
the living dead.

As the air clears,
the survivors venture out.
The world is still
and silent.

And then they come.
The walking dead.

Blood streaks their faces.
Streaks their clothes.
They're hungry for
your flesh.

It's really happening.
It's like the movies.
Where can you go?

You hide in your house.
But you don't have
enough food.
You don't have any weapons.
Oh my God!
You hear something
on your porch.

You duck into a closet
and hope whoever,
whatever, will go away.

You hear a window break.
Oh, please God, don't let them
find me here!

There's shuffling and scuffling.
Crashes and bangs.
They're coming closer.

You try to breathe as
softly as possible.

The door swings open
and you make eye contact
with one of them.

Dear God, let them kill me,
I don't want to be what they are.

It lets out a moan and grabs
you by the throat.
You can't breathe.
You close your eyes.
This is going to be painful.

It bites you in the neck and
rips the skin and muscle off.
Blood pours from the wound
and you start to get light-headed.

Then everything goes dark.
Another victim of the
living dead.

Copyright © Karen Elizabeth Waters 2012