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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Four months after the Outbreak.
Within the wreckage of concrete and cement, the continuous tap of rain leftovers resonated. Tap tap tap.
A dozen, twenty, perhaps even more. The inhabitants of Eden's hospital stood amidst the darkness. Their thinness and long hair made men indistinguishable from women. Between their ghost-like strands, red eyes The red-stained rags they had on were torn which revealed a pallid skin with white blotches and dark veins all over them. A stench of sweat and blood floated from them.
"We were right," whispered Ariel. "David's using the coral to create an army."
Michael counted his snakes, he had only two left.
His rifled still aimed at the survivors, Marriott peered behind at the lunatics.
"I did what David wanted, let my men go!" shouted the soldier.
One of the maniacs at the front rose slowly their frail left arm and pointed its bony index at the ground. Marriott pressed his lips together before his shoulders went limp.
"Don't do this," pleaded Caroline.
With a slow yet strong throw, he hurled his rifle to the left.
"Done. Tell me where are my men?" Marriott interrogated.
The maniacs looked at each other with a sneer. Then, a muffled chimp-like giggle crept out of them. Marriott's head tilted back as he furrowed his brows.
"Where are my men?!" Marriott shouted.
Their waves of laughter stopped but the twisted grins stayed on their sunken faces.
"They are right here," answered a woman with long grey hair.
The soldier's fists unclenched a bit. "What do you mean?" he asked with a lower tone.
The woman's lips widened and contorted akin to an old leather mask. With a gradual movement, she lowered her left hand inside a dusty satchel around her waist.
"And through the door came a little old lady," sang the skinny woman with a hoarse voice.
The madwoman opened the bag and dug inside it.
"She was selling paper roses and they only cost a dime," she continued to sing.
Sweat beaded on Marriott's forehead as he observed the scene. The woman's hand tightened and a squishy noise came out of the bag.
"Paper Rosie, Paper Rosie. She sold you Paper Roses..."
Flies flew out of the satchel while she pulled her wrist up. Marriott's entire body froze once she was done.
"A thousand voices as the church bells rang," she ended the song.
The woman brought out a tiny human figure. From afar and within the darkness it appeared to be a gingerbread man. With a shady hold, Mathilda moved her flashlight toward the satchel. The beam glistened on a beige surface and revealed what seemed to be a chain of paper men. Marriott's eyes widened while the tips of his fingers trembled. On one of the paper men's head, there was a slightly bumpy hole with hair on it.
