Based off a rather disturbing dream I had a while back. Full description below, download if you like.

Also, COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN. I'm a college student that can't pay for my fekking textbooks, so even one page things are okay to ask me for. Be it poem or short story, or what have you. Just $1 USD per page, and the price adjusts per quarter and half page. All transactions go through PayPal.
Can you feel my money desperation? TT-TT
Anyway, here's the story:


No one quite knew anymore when it had started.

The School was just that, a school. Mind, it wasn’t what the rest of the world regarded as school. Sure, there were classes, but the doors were six inch thick reinforced titanium-steel with lock code pads and card swipe readers, with nothing to see out of save five inch by five inch square of bullet proof glass almost as thick as the metal it was set in. No one used the lockers anymore. Most of the locker doors had been ripped off or damaged in some way. There were teachers and students, but most of them routinely carried firearms and bladed weapons. Some even had mini-crossbows.

Just as a precaution.

And every day, at random intervals, an alarm went off. Students and teachers alike hurried into the safe rooms that doubled as class rooms, teacher lounges, and janitor closets. The doors locked after fifteen minutes, automatically.

And then the doors to the school entrances were opened, and the zombies roamed the halls.

An experimental school, the public relations people assured. An important part of finding a cure, the scientists claimed. A revolutionary way to train new warriors, believed the military.

A fucking nightmare, is my personal view on it.

It wasn’t as safe as it was toted to be. Some people weren’t fast enough, didn’t get into a safe room in time. Once, there was this deaf kid that had fallen asleep like the idiot he was, in the toilets. Janitors were still trying to figure out how the blood got on the ceiling soo thickly. The ones that carried weaponry didn’t always know how to use them, and might end up shooting you in a crises as soon as one of the zombies.

It was clear that not everyone who was there wanted to be there. Myself included. But we had nowhere else to go. No relatives claimed us, no friends or friends of family had survived the initial outbreak that we knew of. We were just… Leftovers. Free lab rats that the government were told they had to educate and look after if they didn’t want public opinion to turn to them being inhuman, or some bullshit like that. So we lived in the bunkers under the school, a nuclear war holdover from the 1950’s that was heavily expanded on over the years, and attended classes in the experimental school that used our living flesh as bait for the zombies outside in order to trap them and collect them to use as our undead lab rat equivalent.

Or at least, we did. I did.

Until the Incident.

As I remember it, me and some buddies had been celebrating. What is unclear now, but I think it had something to do with a soccer game between us and another team. I think I remember someone saying something about “yanks not understanding the finer points of the game”, or something.

We didn’t hear the crashing and banging right away, whatever the cause of our selective and untimely deafness. When we did, and turned to locate it, our attention came too late. Some drunk assholes had broken the keypad lock on our safe room door. It was the mainframe for all other locking processes on the damn door, and the drunken fucks broke it, giggling and roaring in laughter. We screamed at them, I think someone started shaking and smacking them. Might have even been me, I don’t remember all the details right. Some techie came to try and fix it, but whatever the idiots had done wasn’t an easy fix.

The warning alarm sounded. They were getting ready to let in the hoard, and the closest safe room that we could fit in was too far away, on the other side of the giant campus. It wasn’t the first time I cussed out whoever’s bright idea it had been to turn an old university into a high school. We tried everything we could to block up the door, and fast. Our room hadn’t been equipped with much heavy stuff, it was an in-between room that multiple teachers from multiple departments used, so it wasn’t personalized towards any department. Mostly just had random pieces of things, like extra chairs and loose rotted boards and inflatable globes.

We were out of time. The zombies were in the school.

Hopes were whimpered. Prayers were mumbled on a bare breath.

The door was heavy, after all. It usually took the automatic system to properly shut it. We had just barely managed to get it into place in a closed position.

The thing is, and what underscored all the hopes and prayers we could possibly muster, was the knowledge that the zombies could smell us.

I’m unclear on exactly how or why, just that zombies have a heightened sense of smell, probably to be more efficient hunters. The doors didn’t block the scent. What would be the point? We were supposed to be bait.

There were soldiers, snipers mainly, who had come to try and thin out and keep the worst of the horde away from us. They tried, they did what they could. There were just more zombies than soldiers, and not all of them could make a proper head shot on the first try.

Another result of zombifying? Increased physical strength. Or perhaps it was just that they couldn’t/didn’t feel the pain of straining muscles any more.

The door fucking moved.

Not a lot, not at first. But bit by bit, shove by numb shove, the fucking door opened.

Those of us with weapons did what we could, too. But we had little to no training.

The zombies got in.

I’m not entirely clear on what happened after that. Some of us managed to get out of the room, and into the hallway. There was no safe place, not for us, not in that situation, but it was like that saying says. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

I ghosted.

There’s no other way I can think to say it, explain how I survived.

I just ran. Sticking to the lockers as close as I could, dodging grasping hands, feral lunges, and I don’t care to remember what else. I somehow made it to a corner of the campus that was empty of zombies. I don’t know why they weren’t there, and in that moment, I didn’t care.

I just wanted to wake up.