1 post tagged “short story”

The door's frame was ripped to shreds, and bits of wood cracked under Carl's boots. Every house on the block had scars of war such as this one but this was different to him. The charred remnants of a body was on its back facing the door. The mouth of the corpse was open and frozen in a scream of agony.

“Carl, no one is left,” Trish said,”Let's get out of here before nightfall.” She touched his arm but he didn't move.

“I thought --”, Carl looked through the door to his left, shining his flashlight into the empty space.

“They aren't here, and if these, these people were them there is nothing we can do now.” Trish looked over her shoulder to check the two bikes they had rode here on, because if they lost those the two of them would have no chance of finding shelter.

He walked up the steps that were to his right with Trish following him. He took his pistol out of its holster and held it at the ready. The family photographs hanging along the wall had been smashed and torn, and picture frames lay strewn along the hallway. Carl took care to not make any noise as he moved along the destroyed memories. The first door to his left led to a gaping hole that had opened up the floor, evidence of a large explosion. The right door revealed a room that had been completely blackened by a fire.

The final door at the end of the hallway was shut, bullet holes marked the door with the same taint the rest of the building had, but there could be something heard on the other side. Carl grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open. He brought the flashlight up with the pistol in his other hand and didn't move.

Trish didn't either, she was too frightened of what would happen next. A cry ripped through the silence, and then another. A figure leaped through the air and nearly knocked Carl over as he dived to the side. His pistol rang out as he got to his feet, and the first ghoul stumbled and fell. The second came out of the darkness and nearly tripped over the body of the first. Its snarls were met with with the same from Carl as he lunged forward, bludgeoning the beast with the butt of his weapon. Trish stumbled backwards, unsure of what to do.

The second beast slumped over the first and did not move. Now, more cries came from below in the basement. Trish ran to the first door they had passed and look down. She counted half a dozen of the ghouls that had attacked Carl all staring up at her. They looked up with wide, bloodshot eyes and screamed again, in unison.

“Let's go!” Carl screamed over the din.

Trish didn't need any other encouragement, and ran to the balcony that overlooked the door they had come in by. One of the things was standing in the entrance, looking back and forth between each door at his side. Without a moment of hesitation, Trish leaped over the balcony and landed on top of the ghoul below her. A savage crack rang through the air as Trish's weight snapped the neck underneath her. She rolled forward and ran for the bikes that were in the street, with Carl not far behind her.

He stopped for a moment, and pulled out the book of matches he kept with him at all times. This house was no different now. It was just the same as the rest of them, no matter what it had meant to him before. It was a past life he could never return to, no one could. With the gasoline already poured before entering the house, Carl struck the match in his hand with ease, and destroyed the last thing in his life that reminded him of everything that had once been.