Zombie Hour (sequel to zombie game)

chapter 16

16

Joe awoke from his sleep, sweating, suppressing the scream that as building inside of him at what his brain had just projected to him. He had a nightmare. It was about coming here, about these evil man killing him and feeding him to the zombies. He figured that would happen soon anyway—that his dream was just a precursor to what was to come, which, quite possibly, could be—

“Rise and shine,” said Michael. “George wants you guys in the gym area in five minutes. If you aren't their in five, you will be killed.” Joe stood up and went to the door of his cell. He heard the keys clattering against the lock and the door swung open, a man dressed in a military uniform and extremely gelled black hair standing their, a scowl on his face.

“Get your ass up and come on,” said the man sternly, “I ain't fucking around.” Joe stepped toward the man and he was grabbed on both his shoulders and led Joe toward where the gym area was. As he walked, he tried to find his friends, wherever they were, but he didn't see them until he actually reached the gym area. He saw Tom being led by a burly man that was covered with tattoos, and Linda was being held by a man with long, rocker hair, and a muscle shirt and ripped jeans.

“You might be wondering why I have gathered you here today,” said George, stepping into view, dressed in a black robe and blue jeans. “I am going to demonstrate something to you.”

“What for?” asked John.

“Oh you know. The demonstration. Fetch me the prisoner.” John grabbed a screaming and thrashing man with tanned skin and bloodshot eyes.

“No you can't do this!!” screamed the prisoner.

“Oh yes I can,” countered George, “and I will.” A few feet away from the prisoner there was a huge, deep pit.

“Go up closer,” said the man controlling Joe. Joe was pushed forward, toward the hole in the floor. He was close enough to see what was inside, and once he saw it, his stomach started to rise, goosebumps rising up his arms. In the pit were three zombies, with ripped clothes and blood staining their mouths.

“No this is fucking madness!! You can't do this!” screamed the tanned skin prisoner.

“Oh but I can,” laughed George. He grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted him up with one hand, making him look into the pit. “This is what happens if someone disobeys us.” And George let the prisoner drop. The prisoner fell to the pit and the sound of snarling zombies filled the air. Joe watched, cringing the whole time. The first zombie grabbed the prisoner by the arm and bit into it, blood coursing down the arm. The second zombie grabbed the prisoner's head. The hollow crunch of the skull being cracked echoed through the entire cavern. The third zombie bit into the man's face, blood pouring down every pore of his body, and he screamed, screamed—screamed—and the second zombie bit chunks of his brain out of his head and suddenly the man was dead. The metallic smell of blood drifted up from cavern. The zombies now knelt down and feasted on the bodies of the dead, ripping the flesh off of the bone, leaving only a bloodstained skeleton that still had bits of flesh hanging off the the dirty bones.

“Someone is missing. They missed the fucking demonstration,” muttered George. He pulled out his pistol and slid a clip into it. He heard footsteps approach and a man with fear in his eyes suddenly slid to a stop—

“I am sorry I'm late I'm--” George fired the pistol, the bullet slamming into the man's stomach, intestines coiling out of his stomach like snakes crawling across the desert. Blood spilled onto the floor and guts plopped out. Before the man could fall forward to catch his cascading guts, he fell backward, dead, the pool of blood spreading.

“That is another thing that happens when someone doesn't listen to me,” said George. He put the pistol down on a table. Two men grabbed the dead man and threw the body in with the zombies. Another man cleaned up the guts and intestines and blood. It was just sick. Madness.