Living Dead

<Entry for Divergent competition>-option C. I followed Movellas on twitter. Username @sa_jeffrey.

In a post-apocalyptic world, eight-year-old Theo wakes up in a shed at the back of his backyard. He emerges out of the shed, to find his parents missing, people walking down the streets with their faces gnawed off, limbs missing, and rotting flesh. The world is engulfed with zombies, and clusters of humans running for their lives.
Theo is frightened, but he doesn't understand why the humans run when they see him. Strangely, the humans smell like BBQ ribs. He realises why people fear him--he's one of the dead walking after hell gone down. A monster that everybody fears.


1. Waking up

The first thing Theo notice when he wakes up is the smell of rotting flesh. The smell is familiar to him. It was the same smell when he found his dead dog in the basement, covered in maggots. He blinks through his bleary eyes, as the dark ceiling shift to focus. Confusion floods into him, as he wonders why he is in his father's shed. There's a loud pounding in his head, and he wince from the pain, finding it surprising that no tears form from his eyes. Strange, he'd normally cry when he's hurt, and Momma would always kiss him to get better.

Come to think about it, where is Momma?

He push himself up from the dusty floor, and his bones creak and groan in protest. Ugh, why does it hurt so bad? He tries to remember how he manage to end in this situation, but no memories come. It's as if his mind is clouded with swirls of dark ink, enveloping his memories to vast emptiness.

Theo looks down, and scream. Or he'd scream if he can, but somehow no sound comes out of his throat as he opens his mouth. His eyes widen in disbelief and fear. His hands--oh god--his hands are ghastly white, with bits of flesh opening up to reveal the bones. His fingers move in slowly--long fingers lifting to the air, and even that sight creeps him out.

What's happening to him? Why is he rotting?

Theo has no idea what happened to him, but he only cares for one thing: his Momma. Where is she? She's supposed to be here whenever he's in trouble.

"M-momma." A dry raspy voice filters the mouldy air. He coughs slightly, trying to form words, but his vocal chords seem broken. The sounds that emanates from him are low growls--like a monster under his bed.

He press his hands on his knees and stands on his feet. There is a slight shuffling in the shed before he manages to escape into the backyard. The sky is darkened with dark clouds, and there's a rolling cloud of thunder from above.

"M-mmomma," Theo manages to growl.

He shuffles to the back door, into his house. His body jolts in shock as he stares at the state of his house. It's like a hurricane has stumbled into the house and created chaos. The couch is overturned, thick springs coming out. There are papers everywhere on the ground, with bits of broken glass.

But the house is vacant. He can feel it in his bones. There is stillness in this air, as if the house is untouched for quite some time. He shuffles to the front, and twist the doorknob to the streets. What greet him is something so eerie, that reminds him of one of his video games. 

It's chaos. There are sounds of cars bleeping loudly; one of them is turned upside down. There are fragments of glass all over the streets, and dark skid marks across the tar.

People shuffles on the street, their limbs twitching, half of their arms torn off from their sockets. They moan as they move slowly, their legs scraping the gravel road, leaving trails of blood.

One brush past him, and his heart nearly jumps out in fear. Soulless eyes stares back at him, half of his eyes is missing, showing an empty socket.

I'm going to be eaten. Theo thinks terrifyingly as the dead walker hovers over him. His feet rooted on the spot, frozen in his fear.

But he need not to fear, as the dead person shifts his gaze back to the streets and walk past him. Theo gives a sharp inhale, as death just brush past him.

He turns around towards his house, but stop short as he sees his reflection on the window. Bile rise in his throat and he wants to lurch his guts on the pavement. He knows why the dead didn't bother him earlier. He watch in horror as he sees his pale face on the reflection; dark circles around his eyes. His eyes are bloodshot, with red rims around the black irises. His lips are dark blue, his cheekbones gaunt. 


He's one of them. A monster.

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