Free Nashville Summers by Grayson Elliot Page B

children, one girl and two boys, one of which was the zombie I had just smacked outside.  The other looked remarkably similar, a little younger and slightly less athletic.  He had the same light brown hair, except his was longer and closer to being blond.  In the picture he was smiling happily.  It made him look so cute, and although I knew it was unlikely, I hoped this angelic boy had survived.
    The sister , though, looked rather different.  Her hair was darker and longer.  Much, much longer than either of the two boys.  Her smile was mirthless and her skin was olive.  I supposed she was attractive, if you like that sort of thing.  Which personally I don't.
    At the end of the hallway waited ano ther door, slightly ajar.  I could see a light from within the room.  I put the dead portraits behind me and crept closer towards the light.  What the fuck was going on?  This was what I really hated, when weird shit is happening and I had no way of explaining or understanding it.  It happened a lot when chasing zombies.
    I pushed the door open just enoug h to peek through and raised my bloody axe over my head, ready to splinter some more craniums.  What I saw inside was the most violent and disturbing scene I'd witnessed yet. 

Chapter 2
    The light came from a fire that burned in the corner, giving the room an eerie red glow that gave me the creeps.  Furniture was strewn about every which way.  The carpeting was torn from the floor.  The room stank.  It stank like a zombie convention of five hundred or more.  I wrinkled my nose in disgust.  This was where the zombies had fed.  I saw bones piled in the corner by the fire, the flesh mostly gone, but still hanging off in some parts.  More blood than I had ever seen in one place doused the entire area, like a sickening sort of paint that gleamed in the firelight, making me want to hurl.  I knew with a sinking heart that there was no way one zombie would have caused all this.
    Gritting my teeth, I pushed the door open all the way and stepped in.  The stench hit me like a ton of bricks, but I knew I had to keep my composure if I was going to find and kill the rest of the zombies in the house.  Slinking slowly and stealthily through the room, I kept all my senses acute and fully alert, watching and listening, silently daring any undead to try and take me unaware.  Suddenly I heard a soft scratching noise and I whirled around on the heels of my feet to face my attacker. 
    "Back to the grave, you undead cur!”  I snarled viscously, only to discover that there was no one there.  What the fuck was that noise then?  Perking up my ears, I heard it again.  Was it coming from the closet?  Seemed like it to me. 
    I creeped in closer, fully aware that a zombie might have gotten itself stuck in there, capable of jumping out at me and ripping out my intestines for some sort of macabre snack.  Very cautiously I crept in closer and closer, finally raising my axe high over my head in preparation.  I reached forward, grabbed the doorknob, and swung it open as fast as I could.
                  A body tumbled out and onto my feet; it seems intact so I ruled out the possibility of it being leftovers from the zombie feast.  Was it even alive?  I considered checking the pulse but I didn't want to put my hand that close to this person's mouth, just in case.  Then the body stirred, and I could see it was still alive.  “Don't kill me...” he moaned softly and gently.  So far he didn't sound like a zombie.  Wait a minute... this was the second boy from the hallway photographs!  I recognized his hair.  That dreamy boy might still be alive! 
    “ Oh please don't be a zombie,” I muttered loud enough for him to hear.  He backed away a little and he stood up, still shaking.  From where I stood his eyes looked normal, but I couldn't tell if he reeked of death, at least not in this room anyways.  God, he was even cuter in the flesh than the portrait.  He