Hunted

Hunted

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Dec 13, 2015
What would you do to survive? How far could you push yourself before you went over the edge? Who would you trust in a world where the people you once loved were either insane or ... the living dead. Their lifeless, yet moving, bodies intent on hunting you down, watching you fall and disembowelling every little piece of your life. I'm still trying to figure it out. Sometimes it's easier to wish you were one of them instead of living, they're not like your cliche zombie, slow moving and easy to kill, they didn't earn the name hunters for nothing. Their brain and body functions just like ours, except the slight urge to hunt and kill the ones who still have blood beating through their veins, and the only way to tell them apart from the living is when they take a bite out of your neck and ... their eyes. They have this glazed over appearance, with a layer of scum pretending to be blocking their sight. They can run, but only for short periods of time before they slow to a walk but they never stop moving even if they have to crawl, they'll move. The only time they stop moving is when they're dead, I feel a lot more comfortable around them where they're dead funny enough. But how do you kill them? Easy. Shoot the only part of them that's still keeping them alive, the brain. However, shooting is a luxury. In Ireland, guns are for from legal so there's not many to go around and a knife will do just as well at achieving a nice clean death. So, you got all that? I hope so, you're on your own now kiddo. Have fun out there.
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"Come with me if you want to live." The guy said firmly, lowering his gun, extending a hand to help me up. I heard the rasping and groaning come closer and closer with every breath I took. But I couldn't find it in myself to follow him. He had tried to shoot me five seconds ago, and now he wanted to save me. I wasn't buying it. Although my heart was racing, shoulder throbbing, I shook my head. "Bite me!" I spat at him. He looked anxiously back over his shoulder to the growing hoard. "Looks like that can be arranged."---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Copsyn Roberts hasn't had the easiest life. Her mother and father are dead, and she blames herself. Shes stressed, depressed, and terrified. All she wants is to curl up into a ball and die where she lays. But when an epidemic of unimaginable proportions crashes into California, all she feels is the will, and the need, to survive. The zombie apocalypse has begun, and there's nothing more in the world than to Kill, Endure, and Survive. But can she make it? She wanted to kill herself. But now, all she hopes for is to live.

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