Pretty Much Dead Already Walking Dead Novels & Stories

Nora trailed off and stepped closer to me, “ Is that… ” “ The dead. ” Dustin sounded amused. “ Are you fucking kidding me? ” I let out through my gritted teeth. The silhouettes that appeared from the Veil were rotten bodies and parts of skeletons, walking on their feet, or crawling over whatever was left. I had seen the worst things in life, but this unique sight still sent a silver shiver down my spine. “ Burn them. ” Nora’s shrill voice sounded close to my ear while I scanned the number of the dead.

Maybe I’m sitting calmly in the café reading a very unexciting book when I twitch once and fall face-first into my frappucino. DeadGirlWalking: I am done living in fear of what is inevitable. I need to feel alive again. SleepingBeast: You think me murdering you is going to make you feel alive? DeadGirlWalking: No, I think knowing that my day is coming soon will make life a lot more interesting until it does. And then when it finally does, I won’t have to think about it anymore at all. SleepingBeast: That’s dark. DeadGirlWalking: You’re homicide-for-hire and you’re calling me dark?

The only thing that resembled a metropolis was a Walmart in the center of town. We proceeded to drive around the Walmart parking garage, trying to search for any visible sign of activity that might be a potential danger to us. About eighteen undead were walking around another end of the platform, gathered together like a mindless, bloodthirsty swarm, but we easily avoided them since we parked on the other corner.

But Zomb is determined to inflict damage unto me, not to kill me, but enough to cause me pain. Which makes me wonder; why hasn't she killed me? Why does she take her time? Is she toying with me before applying the final blow? I have no answers for these questions, and my body moves with accordances, though I can feel myself slowing. My stamina is higher than a normal person's but I can't compare to an experimented person. I'm slowing, getting more clumsy, and I can tell Zomb is finding great joy in this. It's the desperate urge to stay alive that keeps me going, and at one point, a blow to my shoulder causes me to fall.

Only the mess and my battered body remained. As I curled on the icy floor, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Sofia. "Ella, see that? Vincenzo believes me in the end. So what if I lost the baby? I still have him and the entire Camorra family behind me. And you? You're nothing but a cast-off no one wants. A bitch like you deserves to die!" I picked up the phone and typed three words. "As you wish." The moment it was sent, I deleted all our chats and that number I'd had for eight years.

I knew better; the fish I gave her was boneless. Jane's lips trembled as she tried to steady her voice, "That's because the nurses cleaned her up before they brought her here." "Cleaned her up, huh?" My voice turned icy. "Then answer me this: after death, the body cools, starting with the limbs." I pressed down on my daughter's rigid arms and belly. "So why is her stomach colder than her arms and legs?" I yanked up her sleeve to reveal more than just cold skin. "Livor mortis already? That was fast."

The walkers were dead and their bodies were burning. Underneath the smell of burning wood and roof tiles was the distinct scent of hot flesh decaying and singeing as the fire burned harder and faster. “Lamia!” Travis balks, reaching us. “What the fuck happened?” He takes me in, covered in blood, the crimson liquid running down my blade where it rolls, and drops of blood splash to the ground. “It was cruel to let them live like that,” I tell him calmly as he stares at me with wide eyes and a look of disbelief mixed with disgust.

Six years after my younger brother and my fiancée passed away, I picked out a grave for myself. Before my final visit to their graves, my mother suddenly said, “Miles, you don’t have to go this year. The truth is that they never died.” I was startled for a moment before the two of them walked right out of my brother’s room. My brother, Sean, put on a teasing smile as he draped an arm around the woman beside him. “I won the bet! I told you my brother would never figure it out. “Who’s going to be on top tonight, huh, Vera?” My so-called late fiancée, who used to cry whenever she saw me suffer even the slightest grievance, looked at me with open disdain. “He’s just too stupid. We’ve been

“They all look like they're sleeping. Just stay quiet.” “So what? We walk right past them?” I rolled my eyes, my sarcasm went unnoticed. “Yep, what's the worst that can happen?” There were better questions to ask but I feel like sassing him about his word choice wouldn't change the plan. We were going to be walking right next to sleeping zombies, praying that neither of us steps on a twig or bumps into one that we didn't see. “We could die!” I obnoxiously whispered

She divided the bouquet in two and put each small bunch in a vase on either side of the tombstone. "There..." she sighed in satisfaction. "Happy Birthday dad." Ashleigh was walking off when she saw someone familiar not too far. She went closer to get a better look. It was Richard, he was on his knees at a grave. She went closer, curious to find out who he had lost. "To this day it still weighs heavily on my conscience," she heard him say. She heard a stick snap beneath her and shut her eyes. She opened them to see Richard looking at her. He quickly turned away to wipe his tears as he asked, "What are you doing here Ashleigh?"