Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

Chapter Four - Sam

BANG

The gun went off and the first zombie fell, what remained of his head was now on the wall of the basement, Pete was clawing at me from the banister and completely disregarded the stairs somersaulting over the railing to the floor, his legs snapping in the process but it didn't stop him coming towards me.

His legs failed him as he crawled his way forward snarling at me, blood and black bile dripping from his muzzle, his teeth chattering at me, arms outstretched trying to grasp me

I squeezed the trigger hard and Pete was silenced, the ringing of the gun was all I could hear in the basement as I gathered up a couple more cartridges breaking the barrel of the shotgun the spent cartridges flung out with a wisp of smoke.

sliding the new ones into position I re-cocked the gun.

I climbed over the door now at the bottom of the stairs, claw marks grooved into its wood, and the white paneling filthy with blood and a black slimy tar.

Making my way back upstairs back to the kitchen, the wooden farm table in the middle discarded to one side the chairs upturned from my dads struggle with Pete, the once blue cabinets now sprayed with red droplets of my fathers blood, some pots, pans, and knives lay scattered on the floor as I tip toe my way to the boot room.

My coat was hanging up by the door on the hooks, along with our farm wellies neatly lined up a basket of fresh eggs was on the side from the chickens, my mom or sister must have collected them this morning.

I closed the heavy wooden door and bolted it shut, I needed time to think this through, I needed to find my sister and mum too.

Back through the kitchen it led to the hallway, a simple staircase leading upstairs to the three bedrooms, across the hall was the living room which I entered first, my ears poised listening for any movement now the ringing from the gunshot had ceased.

The living room looked normal, the fire was still lit with the two wing back chairs neatly positioned next to it, my father's jacket drying on the rack beside the fire and my sisters iPad laid on the leather sofa.

"Molly" I whispered my sisters name hoping she was hidden somewhere but there was no response, all I could hear was the crackling of the logs on the open fire.

She was only seven so she could hide in a lot of unsuspecting places, the doctors told my mum she couldn't have any more kids, so when she was pregnant it was a surprise to us all, id not really left the farm since finishing school, my dad taught me everything I knew, and even at 25 I still lived here with them.

We we're planning on converting one of the barns for me to finally 'move out' as my mum put it, even though it was literally just outside the main house, but since Molly came along I had become the convenient baby sitter because we all chipped in around the farm the best we could.

Molly equally used to get stuck in during lambing season, but the farm had grown so big we also had Pete working for us.

Pete who now lay dead at the bottom of the basement stairs I reminded myself tiptoeing back into the hall.

A trail of blood was on the stairs, I couldn't tell if it led up the stairs or down, the stairs doubled back on themselves on a half landing, as I reached it I could see blood smeared along the walls upstairs, whatever it was it came up this way.

It was quite low on the walls I noticed, and that's when a cold shudder went through my body, the little red paw prints on the wall

Molly... Please not you too

The floorboards creaked as I stepped onto the landing, I knew where most of them were from sneaking in late at night, or when I'd gone to city to the nightclub, or that time I'd bought my first boyfriend home.

My mum caught us sneaking in, I was 18, I expected world war three to break out there and then on the landing, not only was I gay but I was dating a human, she merely smiled and ask what time we wanted breakfast.

Me and Harry dated a while but then he moved to the city, a farm boy like me wasn't the lifestyle he wanted, its not for everyone, we're often filthy and we make do and mend what we have, the lure of fancy houses and cars lured all my school friends out the village and the tiny farming community.

Even at 25 I was the youngest farmer for miles by at least 30 years too, I missed friends, I missed relationships, but farming life just got in the way, I was pretty much a loner, I used a dating app where I'd hook up with some guys who lived in the city, it was always awkward and most didn't want anything more than sex.

My mum tried to play cupid once with one of the other farmers sons, he was a fur too, I liked humans more, but he was still cute, and yes like the others he moved away.

I hope my mums ok, I can't lose anyone else today... I just can't.

I opened the door to my room which was the first on the right, pretty much the only modern looking room in the house, a low slung bed with grey covers and a charcoal grey feature wall with a modern wardrobe, a wooden slated blind covering my window.

The bed was still unmade how I left it in my dash downstairs when I heard the scream this morning, my clothes from last night still at the foot of the bed.

I returned to the hall, the bathroom was next on the left, a cast iron roll top bath and brass fittings, stone flooring and an old metal sink, nothing was in there.

The family towels neatly folded on the towel rail and the fresh scent of cherry my mum was so fond of filled the room.

I returned to the hallway and pressed forward; I could now hear some shuffling coming from one of the remaining rooms as I tiptoes my way forward through the hallway.

On the right was my parents' room the door ajar, and straight ahead my sisters, her name spelt out in coloured letters on the door, the door was closed.

I nudged my parent's door open with the gun, and I gasped as the stench hit me but even more so when my eyes focused on what I was greeted with

My sister eating my mums' arm, a shotgun in her hand, she had shot herself...

Black bile dripped from Molly's mouth as she faced the window and the slumped corpse of my mum, tearing flesh and fur from her arm exposing bone.

Blood pooled onto the beige carpet which was also covered in red blood stains.

My mums dressing table was a mess, make up pots and perfume bottles littered the floor, there had been a struggle in here, with red tiny paw prints on the white sheets of my mums' bed.

I raised the gun up aiming it at molly's head, she was oblivious to me in the room, perhaps these things only react to sound, although I wasn't sure how she didn't hear the gunshot from earlier, or how I'd even missed the gunshot from when my mum shot herself.

Why did she shoot herself? I asked myself staring down the barrel sights at that thing

she couldn't do what I was about to do... that's why

I lifted the gun up tears already filling my eyes gripping the trigger I squeezed it before breaking down on the floor crying as the gun went off.

I'd killed my little sister...