Zombies On Fire & Other Short Stories

Box of Arms

Nothing there. The boy snorted at his silliness and brushed off his fear. He circled the entire building in a normal walk without trying to be quiet.

Maybe it was better to make some noise and scare off whoever had been out there.

When he was back at the front door, Hadad turned to face the darkness.

"Hello! Anyone out there? Do you need help?"

But there was only silence. His shouts seemed to have stilled the cicadas and wind.

The relieved boy chuckled nervously to himself as he turned to re-enter the building.

A dark shadow flitted silently to the side. Hadad saw it in the corner of his eye and shrieked like a wounded rabbit. He launched the pitchfork from his hand into the darkness and threw himself back outside through the door.

Hadad raced down the road, glancing over his shoulder a time or two to make sure that it wasn't following him. He finally stopped running but still kept walking toward his home under the light of the stars.

As he walked, he rehearsed what he would tell his family, but he couldn't think of anything convincing to tell them that wouldn't make him the laughingstock of the city. His father would be upset at him, and his uncles would be angry.

The look of embarrassment that Hadad imagined he would see though was what finally caused him to turn around. He didn't want to be known as the boy who ran from a shadow.

Hadad returned to the door and poked his head inside. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the pitchfork stuck in the wall where he had thrown it. Something dark hung over it.

He moved forward slowly. It didn't move. He kicked at it. Then laughed at himself. Softly at first. Then loudly as he realized it was just a tarp his uncles had hung to dry.

The boy removed the pitchfork gently so as to not make the holes any bigger than they already were from being so violently stabbed with the pitchfork. Then he hung it back up, locked the door, and went back to bed.

Hadad had just started to drift off to sleep when he heard the three loud thumps again. This time he raced to the door instead of trying to hide. But again, there was no one there.

When he turned though, Hadad notice a large, strange box leaning against the far wall of the warehouse. He hadn't given it much thought previously, however, it did seem out of place.

He didn't recall having seen it the previous nights. But what caught his attention was the strange, orange glow that emanated lightly from around it.

Hadad moved closer to see if he could get a better view. There was something definitely burning inside the box even though it wasn't on fire.

He moved closer and felt heat emanating from the tall, black box. Each step closer caused the box to glow brighter and brighter.

The boy pressed his face against the crack for a better view. He could feel the heat wafting over his face, almost scalding his skin, but he couldn't pull himself away. He felt attracted to the light like a moth to a flame.

The pressure of his body pushing up against door caused the it to creak slightly. It wasn't loud, but it was enough to attract the attention of whatever was inside.

Something slammed against the door and Hadad leaped back. But he wanted to know what was inside. Curiosity pulled him toward the light. He never wanted anything so badly.

Hadad knew he shouldn't, but felt powerless to stop. He felt an intense longing to see whatever golden-glowing treasure lay inside.

He stepped forward and reached out to touch the door. Then pushed against it. A loud hissing soon erupted and the doors parted in the middle as smoke and heat billowed out.