Oblivion Zombie Novels & Stories

I refused to break eye contact as I pulled my club from my bag. It was studying me with pale, clouded-over green eyes before its attention jerked to the left again... mine momentarily shooting up the hill to where we rolled from. The zombie and I made eye contact again as it jerked and snapped at me like a cornered dog, mangled and destroyed...

With that command, the smog shrunk into nothing and the earth’s tremors calmed. Olivia sank to the ground breathing heavily. Her heart pumped a mile a minute and the adrenaline persisted. Tears pooled her orbs, and she clutched her chest . Zombra is gone. Olivia removed her. Even though she knew they were fake on Zombra’s part, memories of their time together flashed through Olivia’s mind like an old record. And a cold liquid streaked down her cheeks. Little witch.

My breath trapped itself inside my throat and the hunting knife slipped from my fingers clattering against the metal floor. It was Marcus. The man who had thrown me to the zombies in my past life. He looked pathetic now. His expensive jacket was ripped, his hair was matted with dirt and his eyes were wild with fear. Behind him was his mother, Evelyn. She was clutching Marcus's arm, her mouth open in a wail. "Keep running Mom! Don't look back!" Marcus yelled, his voice cracking as he checked over his shoulder. Behind them three moving shapes sprinted out from the dark alleyways. They weren't the zombies from the first hours of the outbreak. These were mutated, low-tier variants. Their limbs w

" I looked at the three blue vials that appeared in my hand and smiled. With these, Mom and Dad could awaken their superpowers, so we'd finally have the power to protect ourselves in this apocalypse. "Damn it… I almost forgot about you while dealing with the two losers." The bald leader was about to charge forward and hack at the door when a deafening roar erupted from the end of the street. The fresh scent of blood had drawn an even larger horde. Zombies poured in like a tidal wave, and their glowing red eyes were a terrifying sight in the darkness. "Boss, the zombies are here! Run!" The remaining tugs were scared out of their wits. They grabbed their raving leader and bolted, while the lat

Bima snapped internally. This was the worst possible moment. A choice between starving to death or being torn apart by a mob. "We have to make a decision fast," Lia said, her eyes returning to the darkening street. "Those zombies are attracted to noise. They'll be here any second." "The Zombie Food Vlogger is around here too," Bima added, remembering the vroommm sound from earlier. "He’s attracted to 'good food.'" Lia turned her head, her eyebrows arching. "You mean... we can use him?"

“Divorce would be too easy and painless. We would stay married, and I would make you suffer.” “That sounds fair,” Wren laughed. “Now, eat before I call Little Bob in here to help me make you eat.” They continued their lunch and talked about different things as they did. Until Wren had processed a little more information, they could not do anything about Clayton. He would have to wait for the time being. As they finished their lunch Wren had brought, there was a light knock on Lindsay’s office door, and Little Bob stuck his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt. A call just came in about a zombie over east of that stinking compound. I thought you would like to know about it,” Little Bob told them.

I also told him who was the one who feed me lies, he took my phone, made a call and he fired him. "I love you, Stefan." I said before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I've missed your lips so much." "So did I, baby girl." He pecked my lips. "So, I have two news. The first is the band of skulls mask are dead, there was a massive fire in the outskirts of the city and that's where they were hiding. I'm guessing your ex was involved with them. Too much coincidence that all of them were hiding there." I told him.

“Like fuck it is. At least not on your own.” I shot him a grin. “Fine, old man. Let’s see how many you get this time, when it’s an even playing field.” “More than you, guaranteed, pipsqueak.” I ignored that. I’d prove him wrong…and besides, we had a line of zombies bearing down on us, dozens of them, moaning and dragging their half-rotted feet along through the snow, their jaws wide and full of filthy teeth. The sun broke the horizon, gilding bare, maggoty scalps and showing details that I — yeah, I could’ve lived forever without seeing some of what I was seeing.

She doubted a zombie would be able to locate her there, even an advanced zombie. One of the things about zombies that stayed with them, no matter how much of their thinking and motor skills returned was the fact that they had poor night vision, depth perception, and were color blind. Those factors went in her favor since the opening to the root cellar was beneath a very realistic looking shrub that was attached to the trap door. Its coloring varied from those it was amongst only by the slightest degree and, unless you ran your hand over it, you’d never guess it wasn’t real. Combine that to the fact that it was nighttime, and she felt safe in her selection of hiding places.