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19 November 2011

Everything’s Dead (2010)

About a year ago I took part in a Flash Fiction competition that was being run by a Podcast I was following. It was a Zombie podcast and the challenge was to write a short story in no more than 500 words. Can you guess what I chose to write about?


I happened across my entry today and thought I'd dust it off for you. This was the first time that I'd ever tried my hand at writing Flash Fiction. It may be my last! Reading it now, I'm not sure that I did a very good job, but at the time I thought it was great!

And no, I didn't win, or even get an honourable mention. I can think of 413 good reasons for this. Feel free to comment with your own Triple-B rating...


Everything’s Dead 
I don’t know what I’m going to do. He started banging on the walls sometime during the night and woke me. I banged back to get him to stop, but it just seems to have made him worse. He sounds crazy. I don’t bang anymore.  
I want him to stop.  
Other people must hear him. Why on Earth doesn’t somebody do something? Every now and again I listen at the door. I jammed it with a chair, being the only thing that isn’t screwed down in this Hotel.  
I can’t be sure, but I think I can hear someone out there in the corridor. If my mad neighbour would shut up for a moment and let me listen, then I would know. But he never stops. It’s like he can’t stop; Like he’s trying to break down the wall. I’ve got to get out of here.  
I tried to phone home on my mobile but there’s no signal. The room phone doesn’t work either, and there’s no TV. That worries me the most; The TV was working earlier. But somehow now it’s fried.  
Everything’s dead.  
What’s going on?  
Now I know I’m losing it... I prised open the window... Skinning my fingers in the process. Jesus, my hands hurt. And after all that: I realise that I can’t get down; I’m up too high. I could jump I guess. Yeah jump and break my neck! I don’t want to consider that...  
If I wasn’t so damn tired, I’d think of some better way out of this mess. I know I would. But I don’t have time to think.  
Things happen too quickly. 
One second I’m crouching behind the door, the next it’s off its hinges in an explosion of splinters. Then my nightmare bursts into the room, spraying blood, angry beyond belief.  
It shrieks through broken teeth, dead eyes searching... for me...  
I do the only thing that I can... I run to the window and jump.  
I don’t remember falling. I don’t remember hitting the ground. I don’t remember bones snapping... don’t remember blacking out.  
But that’s what happened.  
Now that I’ve come to, I know that something is terribly wrong... 
I can’t move.
Thankfully, there is no pain, just a dull throb. I feel weak. I must have lost a lot of blood. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious, but I know things are bad...  
I need help.  
Someone’s coming... I can hear them.  
Someone’s definitely coming... 



2 comments:

  1. I like your story, Uke. I like the idea of someone being in a hotel, annoyed by the guy next door, and that's how the zombie apocalypse begins for him (begins and ends). Well done.

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  2. Thank you for your kind words Pete. It was good fun to do and quite a challenge with so few words to play with. I'm glad I gave it a go. Can you guess where I was when I penned it? Based upon a true story... ;-)

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