Smoke Stack


He had been walking for days, constantly forcing himself onward toward the dim ever present light on the horizon and now as he crested the hills rise, he could finally see its source.

Far below him on the plain, a truly massive building stood. Its grey walls stretched off into the distance, circling the central structures, and punctured with giant openings, leading into the glowing recess. Even from this distance he could see the reverse blades at the entrance, swept inwards, with flat tops, allowing the dead to walk in, but not to walk out.

At the center of the structure stood three spires, stretching far into the sky, belching flame and thick black smoke that blanketed the land for miles around.

As he sat watching, a small group of figures stumbling into view, pursing another who ran toward one of the cavernous entrances. With them closely behind him, he jumped over the retaining spikes, and disappeared into a small non-descript door just inside the entrance. His pursuers tumbled over the retainer and began to mill around the entryway, some banging on the small door, until finally they disappeared into the building toward the glow.

The watcher, with tears in his eyes imagined for a moment that the smoke billowing from the stacks thickened for a moment. Whether it was his imagination or not, he could no longer see for tears fell from his eyes as he wept for what his beloved France had become. Now a wasteland of horror, where hordes of zombies were lured to their final demise in giant incinerators that the watcher had refused to believe existed until he saw them with his own eyes.

He wept, face pressed against the earth as flame belched from the smoke stack, as the fire consumed the bodies and souls of the dead and as a lone zombie clambered up the slope behind him. The distant roar of flame and his sobs covered its shambling approach until it fell upon him, teeth tearing into his neck and spine.

Later the watcher twitched, shook and then sat up, thick black blood oozing from the horrific wound in the side of his neck. His dull eyes opened and fixed on the giant building. With a lurch he stood up and set off to investigate the distant glow.


5 Responses to Smoke Stack

  1. Nice! I’ll be back to read more when I have some more time. I love zombies and this story alone shows me you can actually write. Have a look at my site and maybe we can exchange links?

  2. only1rob says:

    Thanks! Glad you like the site!

    Link exchange sounds like a plan, Ive added yours to the right and bookmarked your site, its nice to have a daily feed of fresh zombie news 🙂

  3. anon says:

    These stories are awesome!

    Also I’m reasonably certain that those smokestacks are just a few blocks from my house. They look exactly like those at the Eckert power station in Lansing, MI. They’re actually steam stacks. Before being digitally modified, the photo was probably taken in the winter when all 3 turbines were running.

  4. mackheilla says:

    ..its a good story wish you write another…XD

  5. ninja zombie chainsaw man! says:

    any chance of a story with a ninja zombie that carries a chainsaw?

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