Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The rain had eased, but the city still dripped with the memory of it. Water traced slow lines down cracked windowpanes, dripping into the silence of the abandoned bookstore.

Mira sat cross-legged behind the counter, cleaning the blade of her fire poker with a torn scrap of denim. Elena stood by the front, peering through the gaps in the boarded door.

"They're still out there," Elena whispered.

"Caleb's crew or the infected?" Mira asked without looking up.

Elena hesitated. "Both."

The street beyond was ghost-quiet, but the kind of quiet that felt watched. Every creak in the rafters, every sigh of the wind carried weight. Somewhere far off, a door slammed, echoing through the dead city like a warning.

Mira finally set the weapon down. "We can't stay here."

"I know."

Elena turned from the door, brushing damp hair out of her face. "But where do we go? The zone's closed to us. Caleb's crew will shoot us on sight. And the infected—"

"—will smell us if we keep bleeding all over the floor," Mira interrupted, nodding to the gash on Elena's arm.

Elena glanced at it like she'd forgotten it was there. The makeshift bandage — an old scarf knotted tightly — was already soaked through.

Before Mira could dig through her pack for supplies, the sound came.

Not the groan of the infected.

A voice.

It was faint, almost lost under the hum of the rain gutters. A man's voice, hoarse and urgent.

"Help… in here…"

Both women froze.

The voice came from somewhere in the back of the bookstore, behind the toppled shelves and piles of moldering books.

Mira's eyes narrowed. "Stay here."

She moved quietly, stepping over scattered paperbacks and shards of broken glass. The voice came again — clearer this time.

"Please… they'll hear me…"

She rounded the corner and stopped dead.

A man sat slumped against the wall, half in shadow. His clothes were filthy, streaked with dried blood. His left leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and something pulsed faintly beneath his skin, twitching like a trapped insect.

"You're bit," Mira said flatly.

His eyes shot up, wide and desperate. "No — not bit. It's… different. I've seen what's coming. Bigger than them. Bigger than all of us."

Behind her, Elena's voice cut in sharply. "Mira—don't."

But Mira didn't move. She was watching the man, watching how his pupils dilated in the dim light.

"They call them 'Hunters,'" he said. "Not like the others. Faster. Smarter. And they're already in the city."

From outside, a distant shriek sliced through the night — higher, sharper than any infected cry they'd heard before.

The man's gaze flicked to the boarded windows. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"That's one of them."

Mira's grip tightened on her weapon.

Elena's breath caught. "We need to leave. Now."

But the man only smiled, a strange, knowing smile.

"You won't get far. They're not hunting the living anymore. They're hunting each other — and you just stepped into their territory."