PaparazZombie! by Tony Schaab

August 31, 2009

A new zombie story from the community is here! (Also my posting will be getting back on schedule very soon, last week was v. busy 😦   )

Click here to read ‘PaparazZombie!‘ by Tony Schaab

Tony‘s Biography: Tony Schaab is your average 31-year-old guy, who shivers every time he hears that number, currently living in Indianapolis with his wife and dog.  He has often been described as a “jack of all trades, and master of none.”  In addition to writing in his free time, Tony works full-time as an college Admissions Counselor, works part-time as a private-event DJ, volunteers weekly at his local Humane Society, and is Troupe Manager of IndyProv, Indianapolis’ only independent improvisational comedy troupe.  Tony has a special affinity for the undead in his writings, his readings, and his viewings; his blog, “Slight of the Living Dead,” is a unique and well-read zombie movie/novel/TV series review website.  Contrary to popular belief (and possible public slander), Tony does thank his friends quite often, except for Michael Sullivan, who went to college with Tony for three years and never once had a zombie-centric conversation with him.


Home Alone by Narzane

August 25, 2009

A second story from Narzane is here!

Click here to read ‘Home Alone‘ by Narzane

Narzane’s Biography: I am a new writer from Michigan just starting to make ZS’s. I live alone. I hope to keep on making more of these and to keep on getting better and better at it!

Happy Birthday by Michael Sullivan – A Community Story

August 24, 2009

A new story from the zombie stories community is here!

Click here to read ‘Happy Birthday‘ by Michael Sullivan

Michael’s Biography: “Michael is a mild-mannered 29-year-old currently deployed to the Middle East with the U.S. Army.  Other examples of his writing can be seen here.  His blog, which has almost nothing to do with zombies, can be viewed here.  And in a shameless plug that his good friend Tony will never properly thank him for, another wonderful zombie-themed blog is available here.”

Path of Destruction

August 21, 2009


Demetri and Rodya crawled along side the low wall, carefully placing their feet so as not to make any noise and keeping a steady hand on the Kalashnikovs slung across their necks. Demetri reached the end of the wall first and looked down the hillside at the large antiquated but still in service flak cannon below. Squinting he tried to make out the distant figures moving around the large multi barreled, vertically pointing cannon. Rodya nudged him and handed him a set of binoculars, which Demetri took with a silent nod.

Through the magnified view he could see three of the men rushing to one side of the gun and pointing out across the adjacent field. Panning across to see what they had spotted Demetri cursed as he watched a group of shambling undead making their way toward the gun post. Zooming out, he watched as two more men joined the three, bringing with them a collection of rifles that they passed out. Each man loaded his rifle, took aim and after a few seconds began firing at the oncoming undead.

The crackle of gunfire drifted up toward them, as Rodya leant back against the wall and lit a cigarette. “The poor bastards don’t know how to kill them” muttered Demetri as the zombies continued moving across the field and reached the low sandbag wall around the gun emplacement. Dragging itself over, the first one reached out and grabbed the closest soldier who, unlike the others, had not had the sense to back away. Ignoring the bullets that shredded its outstretched hand and arm the zombie fell onto the soldier, dragging him to the floor and tearing flesh and limbs apart.

As Demetri watched more of the undead poured over the wall, walking through the hail of bullets unimpeded toward the soldiers. In a desperate act, one of the defenders threw his rifle to the ground and ran to the firing seat of the large gun. With a metallic screech the barrels swung down, and rapidly rotated toward the zombies. Despite several being alongside the barrels and thus out of the firing line the soldier pulled the trigger and started firing. Demetri pulled the binoculars away and watched as the massive gun began to shred the adjacent field, churning turf apart, shredding zombies and splintering whole trees into shattered firewood as the massive explosive ‘Booms’ rolled across the small valley.

Rodya’s cigarette hung loose from his lips as he stared in disbelief at the destruction below him, and then, as something caught his eye, he nudged Demetri and pointed. One of the undead had walked around the gun, ignoring the fierce hand to hand battle of soldiers against zombies and proceeded to stumble up to the gunner. Reaching over the seat the zombie grabbed the soldiers jaw and pulled. Blood sprayed onto the gun and with another vicious pull the zombie dragged the soldier out of the seat, knocking a lever and setting the gun in motion.

Demetri and Rodya sat motionless as the gun began to rotate and lift, sending round after round into tree tops and then along the hillside. The two looked at the path of destruction rapidly making its way toward them and with unspoken panic, launched themselves down the hillside. As they ran Demetri looked to his side at the rapidly approaching destructive line and with a desperate roar, threw himself forward, knocking Rodya to the ground. As the two tumbled down the hillside, Demetri could hear the sound of whistling shells flying over his head and felt the thumping vibrations pounding through his chest. Mud, grass and smoke rolled over them and then, in an instance, it was gone.

Lying on the ground, bruised and battered the two looked up as the giant cannon stopped firing and its slow whirl came to a stop. For a moment nothing moved and then, with agonizing slowness, one of the soldiers, blood pouring from a gaping wound in his side and arm hanging at an impossible angle, stood up, spied the two lying on the hill and let out a low moan that drifted across the hillside toward them. As they watched several more stood up and joining the first, began to lurch toward them.

Demetri swore, tilted his neck until it gave a satisfying crack, picked up his rifle, turned toward Rodya and said “Time to get up comrade, we have work ahead”.

In the eyes of death by Lisa Conger – A Community Story

August 20, 2009

A new story from the zombie stories community is here!

Click here to read ‘In The Eyes Of Death‘ by Lisa Conger

Lisa’s Biography: Here is a lovely daydream of mine hope you enjoy it if you do read my other longer stories here

In the eyes of death – Lisa Conger

Ill Prepared

August 20, 2009

Rain at Night

Inside the camouflaged tent, four men stood around a large table. The only illumination coming from an overhead lamp shining down on a map covered with red, green and grey blocks of wood. Listening intently to the headsets they each wore they would occasionally reach out with thin poles they each held and move one or more of the green and red blocks, maneuvering them around the larger grey blocks that indicated one of the nearby city’s buildings.

Striding into the tent a young officer glanced over the map, swore and strode back out, barking orders into the heavy downpour to the assembled troops. After a few moments of gentle silence, the officer re-entered the tent, this time with several other officers in tow.

“Status?” asked one of the senior officers.

“Not good Sir” replied the young officer “Incursion team four and seven have been cut off and surrounded. They managed to blockade themselves here and here” he said as he indicated two blocks of green balanced on two separate blocks of grey. “They have one injured, but not infected. The bigger concern is here” he said as he indicated a green block off to the side of the city “Last check in they were under moderate attack, however they lost their radio and we’ve heard nothing since”

“Have we sent anyone to check on them?” asked another officer.

“No Sir, apart from the command guard all units are tied up and with the heavy rain, as you know sir, air support is limited in how much they can see” replied the young officer as he watched more red blocks being pushed toward a line of greens to the north edge of the map.

“Well, we sho..” The officer stopped talking as the sound of machine gun fire, muffled by the rain drifted into the tent “ahh, the nearest combat group is two miles away, what’s going on out there?” As he finished his sentence, one of the radio men reached out and with a slight hand tremble, placed four large red blocks directly on the square of paper marked ‘command’.

Outside they could hear barked orders and more gunfire tearing through the night rain. With trained precision the senior officers headed out of the tent and toward their own individual commands. As they vanished into the night the junior officer looked around nervously at the radio men, who despite the looming danger stayed focused on the task at hand, leaning forward and adjusting troop positions on the map as the radio reports came in.

A blast of gun fire directly outside the tent made the officer jump and as he turned toward the tent flap a bloodied camouflaged soldier was thrown through. As he scrabbled for his pistol several dark shapes stepped over the now motionless marine, lunging forward, the first grabbed the officers shirt and dragged him in, smashing their heads together. Dazed the officer tried to swing at his assailant as a second figure caught his arm and pulled with inhuman strength. With a loud ‘crack’ his arm snapped, protruding bone through his forearm and spraying the room with blood. Reeling away from the two assailants the officer turned to the table only to more figures attacking the radio operators. He tried to call out for help, but with a hard ‘thud’ pain tore through his back as something smashed into him and threw him across the table, scattering blocks and smashing his head into the hard slate of the table top.

Pulling himself up he felt something tear into his back again and again, until finally, the pain stopped and he slumped down across the table, unfeeling, as something pulled at his back, spraying warm blood onto the back of his neck and shoulders. As he lay dying on the table, unable to move, he watched as his blood pooled out from the gaping wounds in his back and arm, onto the map and as he began to lose consciousness he watched as the red blood swept around the few remaining green blocks on the map and the sound of gunfire faded into the distance.

Journal by Narzane – A Community Story

August 18, 2009

The first story from the zombie stories community is here!

Click here to read ‘Journal‘ by Narzane

Narzane’s Biography: I am a new writer from Michigan just starting to make ZS’s. I live alone. I hope to keep on making more of these and to keep on getting better and better at it!(Journal is my first story)