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Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

作者: Sir Faraz
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概要

In "Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition," Sir Faraz masterfully crafts a collection of spine-chilling tales that plunge readers into the heart of a post-apocalyptic world overrun by the undead. Each story in this anthology is a finely-tuned exploration of fear, survival, and the human condition when faced with relentless horror. Sir Faraz’s vivid and compelling storytelling brings to life a series of unforgettable characters, each struggling to navigate a landscape where danger lurks around every corner and the line between life and death is perilously thin. With a unique blend of suspense, terror, and poignant moments, "Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition" is a must-read for fans of the zombie genre and horror enthusiasts alike. Sir Faraz’s debut in the world of short horror fiction is nothing short of spectacular, promising readers a thrilling and terrifying journey through his imaginative and nightmarish creations.

Chapter 1Story 1: Midnight Terror in the Forsaken Village

The sun was setting as our squad entered a desolate village. The place seemed abandoned, a ghost town with empty houses and overgrown streets. Not a single soul was in sight, and an unsettling silence hung in the air. We were on a mission, and this village was just a waypoint for the night. We set up camp, lighting a fire to fend off the creeping chill. The day had passed without incident, but the night held a sense of foreboding that none of us could shake.

As darkness enveloped the village, we settled around the fire, trying to find some comfort in the warmth and light. The clock in the village square struck midnight, each chime echoing ominously through the empty streets. Suddenly, a cold wind swept through, and the atmosphere shifted. We felt it before we saw it—a presence, something unnatural.

From the shadows of the abandoned houses, figures began to emerge. At first, they were just shapes in the darkness, but as they drew closer, their forms became clear. Zombies. Hundreds of them, their hollow eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight. Their movements were slow but relentless, and the sheer number of them was overwhelming.

Panic set in, but our training kept us from falling apart. We quickly gathered our gear, keeping a close eye on the approaching horde. The firelight flickered, casting long, twisted shadows that only added to the horror of the scene. We knew we couldn’t stay; we had to leave the village before we were surrounded.

The night was filled with the sounds of shuffling feet and low, guttural moans. We moved as a unit, navigating through the maze of empty houses. Every alley seemed to lead to more zombies, but we pressed on, our focus on finding a way out. The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating our path with a ghostly glow.

As we ran, the village seemed to close in around us. The undead were everywhere, emerging from every corner, every shadow. Their numbers were staggering, a sea of decayed faces and outstretched hands. We fought our way through, using every ounce of strength and skill we had. Bullets flew, and the sharp sound of gunfire echoed through the night, but it seemed endless. For every zombie we took down, more took its place.

We finally broke free, reaching the outskirts of the village. We could still hear the moans and see the figures moving in the distance, but we were out of immediate danger. We didn’t stop until we were a safe distance away, the village now a dark, ominous shape on the horizon.

We regrouped, catching our breath and taking stock of our situation. The night was still, the horror we had just escaped already feeling like a distant nightmare. But the memory of those undead eyes, glowing in the moonlight, would haunt us forever. The village, once just a waypoint, had become a place of terror, a midnight horror that none of us would ever forget.

As dawn broke, we continued our mission, leaving the forsaken village behind. But the experience had changed us. We had faced the undead and survived, but the encounter left its mark, a reminder of the darkness that can lurk in the most unexpected places.

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IN THE EYES OF THE KILLER

The world is bright, even brighter than what I imagined. The first seventeen years were dull, spending all my time touching all things, pretending to be satisfied with the texture of it. Mom whispered, "The world is cruel, it's better for you not to see it." Dad uttered, "Secrets are meant to be secrets. If you heard that "access denied" don't ever cross it." The confrontation lacks weight as they try to intoxicate me with various information as I grow up. Let me ask you, what's essential? Is it your sense of smell, your privilege to hear things, your ability to taste everything, or is it your hands? Ever considered living without your sight, who are you? You define yourself as to what people tell you. You dress yourself the way they wanted too coz after all, it's their satisfaction that matter. You touch things to feel it, hoping your brain can understand what's behind a rough or a fine surface. From the start, you are seeing things differently to what they see for your eyes are their mouth and they only tell lies. Grandma said, "Be contented Lucy. You are denied of something for you are gifted about something. Isn't it fair?" Grandpa said, "You'll realize it as you grow older. You'll realize in time how having no sight is more of a fortune than a disgrace." Until I get older and my egocentric psyche grows with me, holding my hand and even taking over me. I wanted what's theirs, I wanted to have those. Let me have it please. Let me have a chance to see until I regret it. Regret seeing my mother cried in your hands, you cruel beast. You deserve to die. Let her live. Discord server:

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