It was a summer of love at Little Brook, a quiet village full of normal people, a town where nothing bad happens. But it is different tonight for Jack as his boyfriend Michael had just disappeared at the stroke of midnight.
From bad to worse, a zom...
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Two months after the Outbreak.
Peter's group threaded out the mirror maze main entrance. Caroline nocked an arrow on her bow and aimed it across her field of vision. The bumper cars were stationary, the seats of the swing ride billowed empty, the colorful lights of the funhouse shone like flare sticks in the night. The woman's gaze stopped on the teacup ride. There was someone at the feet of a human-sized squirrel statue. It was a little girl with long strawberry blonde hair who wore a purple bouffant dress. Her back was turned to them while a veil of hair covered her.
When she saw the child, she could not help as she remembered her daughter.
"Hey, are you okay?" asked Caroline as she walked toward the girl.
"Caroline, shh!" Peter pulled her back by the arm.
The child rose her head a bit and stood up. Through a limp pirouette she twirled around. Caroline's heart froze as her arms dropped. The little girl's irises were fragmented into fractals of aruba blue onto her black sclera. She had the eyes of a mutated fly. Her lower eyelids hung loosely on her flesh. The skin of her lips had been tore off. Her mutilated jaws opened to let out a toad-like rattle.
"I'll deal with it," Ariel said.
"Wait!" Caroline shouted. "Perhaps we can-"
The croaks got louder and deeper. Ariel ground her fangs and walked toward the girl. However, the kid crawled away behind the funhouse in a way similar to a fast tarantula. The rays projected her shadow against the back of a stand. A high-pitched scream erupted as the shadow twisted its neck around. The perimeter of the head bent into a series of bumps. Soon, it took the shape of a colossal blueberry. As she transformed, the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy played. Progressively, the cranium swelled up like a balloon and inflated at the size of a washing machine.
On all fours, the little girl walked out of the darkness.
"No." Caroline panted. "NO!" she screamed.
Blood dripped from the child's mouth and eyes. Yellow patches blemished her cheeks as if she was ill with the rare case of chickenpox and jaundice.
"This is a nightmare..." Caroline mumbled.
Peter shook her by the shoulders. "Caroline we have to go," he said.
"This is a nightmare," she repeated in a near-catatonia state.
Peter sighed. "Ariel helped me."
Both of them wrapped their arms around Caroline's to drag her away. The woman had a slim body but still had a certain weigh because of her muscle mass. They ran at the speed of arrows out of a bow. Behind them, the zombified girl wriggled on each of her limb. Distorted cetacean cries came out her mouth as it stretched
"She's, she's talking?" asked Caroline with a shaky voice.
"It's not, Caroline, don't let it trick you," Peter said.
