Zombie Novels & Stories

"It's a selection mechanism. 99.9% of humans who get infected turn into zombies, but there's that 0.1% of humans who, due to their genetics, constitution, will force, or some other unknown factor, trigger an evolution within them." She walked back to my bed. "You're part of that 0.1%. The perfect evolved specimen." Perfect evolved specimen? The words exploded in my ears. "What do you mean?" I asked. "It means that you're now completely immune to the zombie virus. Your cells have undergone an adaptive evolution, making the virus ineffective against you. Your physical condition, including strength, speed, reflexes, recovery… All o

Little Zane kept staring at his father's dead body. He felt like screaming but he was frozen and stayed where he was, hidden in the shadows. "ZANE?!"shouted a voice, it was his mother,"Zane are you alright?! Did they hurt you too?! What is going on?!" "Mother, my father is dead. Prince Alfred shot him with a silver arrow in the heart",blurted out Zane, with moisture in his eyes. His mother knelt down infront of him and said,"Don't worry son, you will be alright. I will protect you till my last breath. I won't let those Vampires hurt you! Come with me"

It might be frigging starving! A disturbing idea popped up in my head as I drove past the Manor gates: if this thing had been attached to Brandon Price, it’d gone from feeding on residual energy to living emotions. So maybe it wasn’t a badass demon, but it wasn’t a simple scavenger anymore. I’d heard that wild predators, like lions and tigers, disregard any other food once they tasted human flesh.

I demanded, becoming irritated. For a few moments we sat in silence, in a staring competition. I glared at him and he finally gave in and sighed. “There are a few ways. The most common way is to remove an essential organ, such as by beheading or tearing out someone’s heart or lungs. Simply injuring the organ doesn’t work, as werewolves can just heal. But removing it completely is a guarantee for death. Another common way is poisoning by wolfsbane. Our pack sometimes shoots darts filled with wolfsbane at enemies to get it into their bodies quickly. But you can also die from eating it or if it’s pushed into an open wound.”

When I woke up, I stretched lazily before the comments appeared in my vision again: [Whoa, talk about bloody! There's nothing scarier than human nature in the apocalypse!] [Yeah, it really magnifies the darkness of humanity…] [To think he could even do that to his own parents… what an animal!] [What a selfish scum! He could do anything for a mouthful of food!] I turned on the surveillance and saw Charles and his parents fighting each other, bloodied and bruised, all over a single pack of instant noodles. "You old hag! Why are you fighting me for this food when you've got cancer?"

~~~ Amaya "Among the supernaturals, there are different types. Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, witches, angels, demons and, elements. They all have different characteristics and abilities." Who would've thought that we had such creatures living among us? "The one who attacked you was a shapeshifter. They are known to be able to imitate any living form. They can change and impersonate any living being on this planet. They can be very dangerous. You might be having a normal conversation with your mom one day but it could be a shapeshifter and you wouldn't even know." As he spoke to me, a little piece of my memory from that night came back.

“So, who do you live with then? Your mum?” “No, my mum's dead too. I live with my older brother.” I added saving him the stress of having to ask. The truth seems to be working, I just have to edit the unnecessary parts, like the fact that my brother is a vampire that is about to be crowned king of the underworld.

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 f

Screams tore through the B2 level. Martha and I bolted for the stairs. Marcus stumbled behind. The smell of blood hit us like a wall. In the makeshift chapel, Sister Catherine was on her knees before the cross. A bloody hole gaped in her neck. A zombie was hunched over her, greedily tearing at her flesh. It had crawled in through an air vent. “Oh God…” Marcus retched. I grabbed a nearby iron chalice and slammed it into the zombie’s head.

He was stronger, faster, and sharper than he had ever been. As he entered a long corridor, a faint noise behind him caught his attention—a rasping breath and the scrape of claws on the floor. He turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. A lone zombie emerged from the shadows, its head tilting unnaturally as it locked onto him. Its milky eyes gleamed with a hunger that made Luke’s stomach twist, but he didn’t back away.