Snippet #1304275

Tick...tock...tick...tock...

It had started as a normal day. But in reality, that cool breezy beautiful day was an actual HELL. Owen looked carefully around him, checking every twist and turn for one of the feared undead. Several seconds later he confirmed his loneliness. No one was in the alley but him. Just lonely little him. Sighing deeply, he dropped down onto the ground and buried his face in his hands. Where had it all gone wrong? What had the beautiful city of Chicago turned into?
After checking his wristwatch and making sure that he had time until sunset, Owen forced himself up and grabbed the handle of his baseball bat. Stained with blood and the gleaming in the light, the bat sat in his clenched fist. It was itching to spread...justice. It was eager to end the miserable creatures called zombies. But how? He and it were one person. But, they would try to take down as many as possible before they were turned themselves. Deciding that brought peace to Owens’s busy mind. And finally, he set off into the town.

A high scream sailed through Owens’s ears. It was a female scream...and it was close by. "Wha- CRAP!" He changed his direction and ran towards the sound, hoping that the woman hadn't been bitten. But inside his heart, he knew the chance the slim. The zombies were slow, so you could outrun them. The zombies were fragile and poorly put together, so you could easily tear them apart. But, they came in packs. The largest pack he had seen had at least twenty. And after one pack was defeated, another would come and take its place. You were never safe. They just kept coming and coming, the zombies. They just kept infecting more people and more innocent lives.

"HELP!"

Owen gazed up and saw what looked to be a woman in her mid-twenties standing on top of bus, using nothing but her umbrella to the keep the countless zombies back. "Sh-she's... alive!" Owen twirled his bat skillful and sped to the bus, sweat collecting on his brow. With a yell, he slammed the bat on one of the zombie’s heads. Blood gushed out of the headless neck, splattering on the zombie and everything around it. Including Owen. Taking the small moment to lick some of the blood of his hand, Owen slowly approached the next few creatures. "Hey! You there! Whats your name?"

The woman growled slightly. "Who are you? I won't tell you anything unless you tell me!"

"Owen," he called. "M-my name is Owen and I'm here to take down as many of these zombies as I can. Y-you're lucky. The pack that surrounded you is only a small one... They'll be easy to get rid of!" He leapt up and swung his bat angrily, battering the necks of several zombies and taking off their heads. Again, the blood splattered everywhere, and Owen accepted it as so. Everything was going well, until...another pack came.

Owen had been beating on the last of the pack that had surrounded the bus when a cold hand grabbed his shoulder. He froze; his bat still in midair, directly above the remaining zombie. The next happened in merely a few seconds. The hand behind him dug into his shoulder and ripped a large portion of his shirt off, exposing his clean skin. It was then his panicked. He was now as vulnerable as ever. With a scream, he began swinging his bat around clumsily, not even hitting any of the zombies. His pupils shrunk and his chest heaved. Breathing began painful and his vision swirled about. He was next. It was his time to die. No more fighting, it was his time to become one with them.

No.

Not in a lifetime!

His hands tightened on the grip of the bat. No! He had sworn on his brother’s grave that he would live his life meaningfully. And not only that, but... he didn't want to die. HE DIDN'T WANT TO DIE!

"HAWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" His hands were a blur as he smashed the zombie’s heads. After a while, it wasn't just their heads. It was their arms, their legs, their torsos. Anything that could be broken was broken. Owen slammed the bat on one of their shoulders, in a swift turn he bashed the other, and soon both arm dropped off. The blood... THE BLOOD! "HAWWAAAAH! BLOOD! BLOOD!" Owen screamed as the bleed gushed from the scattered parts around him. Only a few zombies remained and they were slowly closing in. "N-no more... No more! I don't want to die... I want to live! But n-no more! No more blood! Wha-" Several hands swept over and swatted the bat out of his grasp. "No... No..."

Owen was alone with no one to save him. Breathing heavily, he began to claw at his bare shoulder. A thing trail of blood dribbled down, gradually reaching the remains of his shirt and staining it red. His brother’s blood ran through his veins. Red blood, which belonged to his mother and brother...and even father. He didn't want to die; if he did, that would be the end of the Cutters. Each member of the family killed off in only a few years. It was then that he realized...someone was trying to get rid of them on purpose. He would not die. HE WOULD NOT DIE!

Dashing towards the zombie who held his bat, he jabbed his hand forward and grabbed one of the zombie’s visible ribs. With a satisfied grunt, he ripped it out, bringing along a small blood-shower. Owen let it be. He tackled the zombie and began to repeated punch it’s twisted, snarling face. After letting his anger out, he gripped the hair on its head and ripped the whole thing off, from the neck and up. "Ah..." He smiled and picked up his baseball bat. Turning around and sighing, he brought his weapon down on a zombie’s torso, swatting several times, each one pounding deeper and drawing more blood. He repeated the bashing, ripping, and jabbing until no zombies remained. Except for one.

"It's over," he sighed. "It's over now." He looked at the woman on the bus and smiled warmly. "It's safe now. They're are dead for good, y-you can come down." As the cold bloodlust faded from Owens’s eyes, it was replaced by pink cheeks and a cute stutter. "M-miss... I... Th-they're all gone now. Come down."
Nodding slowly, the woman climbed down from the bus top and walked towards him carefully. Her bloody umbrella was pointed at him as if she thought he was one of the zombies. "Who are you...monster...?” As the sun set slowly on the man and woman, the man, Owen, was bathed in light, showing off his gore-smeared face and blood-smeared bat.

"Monster? I saved you. And I believe there is some irony here." Owen dove and ripped her shirt up halfway, exposing a large bite mark. "You're the monster." He raised his bat and brought it down on her head, bashing it in with a single stroke. The headless body flopped onto the ground and shook for moment, then stopped for good. Owen closed his eyes and grabbed the woman's purse. Inside, he found several things that could be of use to him. A lighter, a key, some gum, and a pad of paper. Dumping said items into his own bag, Owen set off to the next town, mumbling quietly as he went.

"Let us bring the end to this hell."

(Hi, I got carried away.)