World of the Dead by Necromancer Shade (best books to read for self development TXT) 📕

fear "Dane, what were you thinking giving her a weapon!? Even without a weapon, her death record..." Danes head whips towards his voice. "You wont have to worry about that where we're sending your death-corupted souls to. Pray to your god for your sins. Ill send you all to hell either way, and meet you there once Im done." Suddenly he lunges to the side and opens a rusted metal door with a red tape 'X' on it. A man shambles in, skin rotting and blood splatered on his clothes. Someone screams. The slaves all wake up and panic running to the other door. they excape and all run into the forest, chains still attached and clattering. I dart towards the guards, the sword like now part of me as I bring the Kiss of Death. Blood. Fear. Screams. Wails. And finally, death.  Freedom

After the huge battle I truge outside. There bodies everywhere. Blood splashed everywhere from both people and zombies. I stagger over to a tree and slowly clime up, exaugsested.

I wake up to a repeating sound. Its a bird. A loud bird. A freaking anoying, loud bird that Im going to kill if it doesnt shut up! I groggly open my eyes and let out a harsh, giant growl that almost echos throught the forest. The bird wisely shuts up. After a few minuets of lounging around I deside its time to check my wounds to make sure im not going to die of a bite i didnt feel. I turn to my side then renember too late that im in a tree. I fall out of the tree, 10ft above the ground. Theres a loud thump as I land. I wince and slowly push myself up and onto my butt. I glance around and only see the building the slavers had put up. The door way was open with a couple of corpses laying halfway through the door. Flies flew over them, landing of their fresh bodies. I wrench my head away and remind my self to never die like them, halfway eaten by zombies before I die...wait... halfway eaten by a zombie? I jump up and back up to the tree and grab where my katana had fallen. If they were eaten by a zombie they would rise soon, not to mention, where are the zombies that ate them? I keep my eyes on the doorway, my hand swishing across in the dirt searching for the sword. Where was it? I grit my teeth as fear starts to pulse with my heart. My hand bumps something hard and I grab it, bringing the katana into view. Theres a small scratch. My heart beat is loud in my ears as the door slowly opens with a loud creek. A few seconds pass. Then small squeals are released as a small hord of rats flow from behind the door.

As they exscape into the forest, I have to force myself to calm. The zombie apocalypse has caused many things. It brought death, fear, distrust, disease, and many cases of forced repopulation when any woman was foolish enough not to disguise themselves. How could paranoia, stress, and malnutrition not be common? The case was same here. I looked around for danger and kept by the tree while looking for injurys. I look at my arms and legs and only see some scratches. I feel around my neck and back. None there. I pull up my shirt just above my ribs. I could easily count them, but no bites. Just a large scar stretching from between my left armpit and breast to my hip on the other side. I pull down my shirt as my stomach grumbles. I jump in surprise of the loud noise in the silence. I chuckle slightly and check my sword for damage. Its dull besides the occasional nick and dried, crusted blood. I frown. I need a sharpening stone and water to clean it. I look back at the building and my frown deepens. I might be able to find what I need in the building, but I dont want to meet any zombies. I growl low and stamp my foot in frustration. I slink towards the door and peek around it. The ground is littered with bodies, but what worries me is how many will stay dead as I walk over them?

Necessaries

 I quietly slip into the room and unsheathe my katana. The dark blue blade causes a colored light to glint across the room. I creep across the bodies, ready to cut down in a moments notice. As I make my way across the room I see a cupboard thats swinging slightly. I glance around and go forward. I open the cupboard and see some hardtack bread, a war classic. I yank open the plastic bag it was in and break off a piece. I nibble on it then check the next cupboard. Theres some ransid beef jerky and a dead rat. I grimace at the smell, and look around again. The next two only hold rat droplings and a cracker. I eye the cracker wairily and close the small door. I check a couple bodies of some guards and two are holding canteens mostly full. I search some more guards and get a machete and a knife.  Desideing Ive got some good gear, I start towards the door when I stop. Of course I knew this would happen. Proped up against the wall in the corner...Is Danes corpse. I jump over some bodies to get to him. There is a deep cut that leads to his heart. I grit my teeth. Forcing myself to turn and walk away is almost unbearable. Then theres a sound of cloth shifting. I whip around and see Dane standing, revealing a torn sleeve and a bite.

"Fuck!" I curse, pushing away any guilt. Im backing up with Dane shuffleing towards me, when I see the leaders dead body. Its torn up by what looks to be a knife or two. I look back to the zombie moaning and swiping at me. I duck and cut off his head in a smooth motion. I press my hand against my eyes. after taking a deep, shuddering breath, I take my hand from my eyes and look at the body I just cut. I stiffly search his body with trembling hands and find the two daggers he used. They have a dark steel blade and black leather rolled over the handle. The blade has one point and not surated; made for stabing and sliceing, not cutting. I hear some shifting behind me and check. More zombies are riseing. Its time to leave. I dart through the risen bodies and heave the metal door closed.

I gasp deeply for fresh air. This helps with the guilt but not by much. I have killed many, but none who told me of their family, nor helped me excape. I never had to kill the shambling corpse of someone so, so...determind to bring down his enemy and was to peace with his possible death. He knew it was likely he was going to die when he asked for my help, as he chalenged them to a death game of survival.

I push away from the door and get ready to move on. I pull the canteens straps over my body, makeing an 'X', a canteen on each side. I slip Danes daggers into the straps of my belt; one at the side and in the back. A small knife into my boot and the machete is onto my back. My katana is always held, incase I ever need it fast. Im finnaly ready to leave this building of the dead.

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Publication Date: 04-01-2014

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