Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

Don't leave me - Joshua

It started subtly, just a few muffled noises in the distance, but enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. Half an hour passed with Sam standing tense by the door, his sharp ears twitching as he listened intently.

"I'm hearing something," Sam muttered, his voice low but urgent. "Chairs scraping. Tables falling over. It's faint... but getting closer."

"What is it? Zombies?" I asked, my voice tinged with nervous anticipation.

"I don't know."

Sam pressed his ear against the door again, his body rigid. He didn't need to. This time, I heard it too—sporadic gunfire, distant screams, and something else: growls, guttural and feral.

Zombies.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. The noises escalated rapidly, the gunfire growing louder and more frantic, punctuated by blood-curdling screams. Then came the unmistakable sounds of chaos—furniture smashing, bodies colliding, the unholy shrieks of the infected.

Sam cracked the door open to look, just enough for me to catch a glimpse over his shoulder. From our vantage point on the balcony overlooking the lobby, I saw pure carnage. The lobby, once bustling with the uneasy routine of survival, was now a hellscape. Zombies were everywhere, tearing through tents and makeshift shelters. People were being ripped apart in their sleep, their cries of pain and terror cut short as they turned into the very monsters that had bitten them. Others fought valiantly, swinging bats, knives, and anything else they could grab, but it was hopeless. For every zombie they took down, two more joined the fray.

Sam slammed the door shut with such force the hinges rattled. "The window," he barked, grabbing my arm and yanking me toward it. "We've got to go, now!"

He fumbled with the latch, but the window barely budged. One of those safety locks meant to keep hotel guests from jumping was now trapping us inside. "Fuck!" Sam growled, his claws scraping uselessly at the frame.

Thinking fast, I grabbed the metal chair from the corner of the room. Sam had the same idea, snatching up a heavy lamp. "Move!" I shouted, swinging the chair at the glass. The first blow cracked it, sending splinters spidering outward, but it didn't shatter. Sam joined in, his lamp slamming against the window with brutal force. It took three thunderous strikes before the glass finally gave way, shards exploding outward in a cascade of noise.

The sound was deafening, and I didn't need to look to know we'd drawn attention. The door behind us rattled violently, the snarls of the infected unmistakable. They were close now, their heavy fists pounding against the thin wood.

"We can jump!" I said, peering out the shattered window. It was a first-floor drop, not fatal but high enough to sting. Below, the overgrown grass swayed ominously in the faint breeze, a far cry from the bloodbath above.

Sam didn't hesitate. He knocked the remaining glass from the frame with his elbow, then swung his legs over, dangling briefly before dropping to the ground. "Come on!" he yelled, urgency dripping from every word.

I climbed out, ignoring the jagged edges scraping my arms and legs, and let myself fall. My feet hit the grass hard, the impact jarring up through my knees, but there was no time to process the pain.

"Run!" Sam shouted, already sprinting around the building toward the parking lot.

The night air was filled with gunfire and screams, the scene outside just as chaotic as the one we'd fled. Residents of the colony were pouring out of the hotel, some fighting to escape, others already succumbing to the infection. Zombies leapt through shattered windows, their bodies twisting grotesquely as they hit the ground. Those that survived the fall scrambled after the living with ravenous speed.