30 horror stories

silence

The silence woke her. It had been days since the last scream pierced the night, the last gunshot echoed through the empty streets. Sarah lay there in the darkness, her ears straining against the oppressive stillness. It was worse than the chaos, the unpredictability of the violence. In the silence, her imagination ran wild.

She slowly sat up, her heart pounding in her chest. The creak of the old bed frame seemed deafening. She winced, freezing, but there was no response to the sound. She let out a shaky breath, her hand instinctively going to the baseball bat beside her.

Sarah swung her legs over the side of the bed, her senses on high alert. Every crack of the house, every groan of the wind, made her jump. She had to move, had to keep going. Staying in one place for too long was dangerous.

She fumbled in the darkness, her hands feeling along the familiar contours of her backpack. She had stocked it long ago, preparing for this moment. Water, non-perishable food, first aid kit, gun. She had never shot one before the infections, but she was a quick learner.

Sarah stood, testing her weight. Her injuries still ached, but she could travel. She had to. She slowly made her way to the window, peeking out through the crack in the curtains. It was light out, early morning. She could see for miles, and miles was what she needed to put between her and the city.

She slipped out of the house, her eyes scanning the deserted streets. The silence followed her, a heavy cloak she couldn't shake. She started to move, her senses straining against the stillness. She had survived this long, she could keep going.

As she walked, the silence seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive. It wasn't the screams or the gunshots she needed to fear, but the silence. And then, she heard it. A footstep, heavy and deliberate. Her heart stopped as a figure emerged from the shadows.