Books About Zombies Novels & Stories

Hope nodded, taking a deep breath before leaving with Florence who promised to have her back soon. Faith gave the room a quick tidy, much to the displeasure of Lizzie the maid who caught her in the act, playfully scolding her. Whilst Lizzie changed the bed, Faith went to the library to the section she hadn't been brave enough to explore yet. Vampires. The central wall was covered in books about them, constantly playing on Faith's mind as she read. Until then, she hadn't given into her curiosity, but given the light of recent situations she couldn't hold off any longer. Marching into the room, thankfully empty as usual, she waltzed straight up to the centre display and started climbing the go

“It is enough to have to battle each other without throwing the human race into the mix.” “You war with each other?” Jasper asked with surprise. Rowan nodded. “Indeed,” he said, “The werewolf and vampire are fierce enemies.” “And zombies?” Jasper asked. “What about them?” “The zombie is a curious anomaly,” Rowan began. “Unlike the vampire or werewolf, it is not a creation from another dimension come here. A zombie is the result of a virus that takes hold of a recently deceased corpse and causes just enough animation to allow it to function in the most primitive of ways.”

She opened it—pages parting easily now, as though the book recognized her exhaustion and offered no resistance. She flipped past the early chapters she had already memorized. Deeper. To the sections she had only skimmed before, too afraid to linger. *Control of the Undead* The script here was denser, colder. Diagrams of binding circles, sigils of domination, lists of names for the restless dead. Zombies—simple thralls of flesh, bound by will alone. Ghouls—carrion-eaters, drawn by hunger, controlled through offerings of meat and bone.

A crowd of zombies had already poured in from there. As the screams echoed, I switched off the monitors, lay down on my bed, and picked up a book. It wasn't a long read; I could probably finish it in three or four hours. By then, everything outside should be over. … When I closed the book, four hours had passed. It was the longest I had ever spent reading a book. The idea that I'd gained a little more knowledge left me feeling quite satisfied. When I pulled up the feeds again, bodies were scattered all over the safe house. Many infected were drifting aimlessly through the building.

"Don’t worry. We have many other bedrooms." "Then-" and once again he cut me off. "Because I don't trust that everyone in this house has fed. I won't risk it..." He said. And with that he turned and left. Leaving me in his room...alone. I had to admit that his room was very simple. The duvets were black and white. The carpet was dark blue and the curtains dark red. He had a large desk in the corner which was stacked with the most unexpected things. Reading books! Actual leisure READING books. They ranged from horror to sci-fi. Most of them were written by a famous hunter author named Vladimir Rodriguez. Those books were mainly the "fiction" ones. They were fiction to humans, but all too real

“Died? What are you saying? My father is dead?” “It’s hard for me to explain this to you, but you need to think about this differently. Vampires live through many incarnations. Many of us have gravestones, even though we are living today. I myself, under different names, am buried in many cemeteries in many countries. Obviously I am not really dead, or buried. But at the time, the locals needed to be assured that I was. We had to stop the evidence, reassure them that I wasn’t coming back to life. And a burial and a tombstone was the only thing that would put them at ease.

The most toxic of all metals for vampires. He looked past them, and saw additional layers of bars behind them. He had no doubt now that the savage seven were being kept here. Kyle heard a faint rumbling noise. As he leaned in, suddenly a long, yellow claw reached out of the blackness, towards the bars. This was followed by a hideous face, with long, orange fangs, drooling. He could smell its rotten breath, even from here. Ancient, primordial creatures, the savage seven were too hideous too look at, even for Kyle, and he had to turn away. For a moment, he felt relieved that they were locked up, and he second-guessed releasing them.

Caitlin dove into the book, scanning through, turning the pages as fast as she could, looking for any mention of vampires, of how to heal or cure one, how to bring one back to normal life. As she began to read, she suddenly slowed down. She went back and read it again. Then again. Her heart started beating with hope. She could tell right away that this book was very different than the others. This, of all the books, felt the most real to her, the most scholarly, the most impartial. It wasn’t filled with hyperbole and myth and wild stories told by grandmothers. This one was written, paradoxically, by a bishop, in the 16th century. Also a doctor, he had seen dozens of inexplicable cases of cor

Dash would try to state some things around him that wouldn’t be affected by the lip lock and though it’s been a challenge, it’s getting us somewhere. We still haven’t gone very far with unlocking the blank page of the Book of the Undead. The Zetas have been working day and night to solve the secret behind cracking the code, including Hilda. What’s more, it’s all she does all day in her room. A lot of books about demons, runes, and potions—as they said it—were shipped to her room and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was planning to turn her room into a library.

And find out if there was any way to fix it. As she drove, Caitlin thought again of the rare books she had found in her library. Most of all, she that of that one rare volume, and its torn page. She thought of its ancient ceremony, the one in Latin, with its cure for vampirism. She wondered again if it was real. Was that just passed down from folklore? An old wives’ tale?