Storm of the Undead by H.L. Murphy

Author:H.L. Murphy [Murphy, H.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2017-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Charon has split, and you are stuck in Hell

Hell.

It was the only way I could think to describe it later.

Hell had come to West Palm Beach and set up shop. The first hallway I found myself in prepared me in no way for the day’s insanity because the walls were perfectly normal. The floor wasn't ankle deep in the detritus of the dead. People had not been nailed to the ceilings. The very moment I turned from this length of normality into the nearest passage, I descended into the first ring of hell.

In their exuberance at finding a new home the members of the Circus Minimus had covered every vertical surface in a scrawling text the subject of which I could not follow. I thought, perhaps, the writings were meant to be excerpts from whatever manifesto these assholes had concocted, but the more I attempted to decipher the text the more utterly random the selection of words appeared. Also, the medium in which the words were written, likely blood, had dried, flaked, and some text had fallen away. So regardless of the texts original intention it was literally impossible to read given the missing letters and words.

Hodge podge assemblies crammed into corners apparently served as shrines to whatever deities these whack-a-doos worshipped. Judging by the offerings left behind, none of these people were into the shiny, happy pantheons. Rounding a corner I looked out over the interior proper of the center, spotting the fighting area immediately, but having my eyes drawn to another area. An area clearly set aside for important persons. The deduction was reasonable given the elevated position, and the presence of slightly shifting bundles of material upon which had been painted names and symbols. I stared, slack mouthed, for two minutes at the banners, that's what they were, before I could bring myself to accept I was looking at the skins of human beings.

My gorge rose, I fought to keep the contents of my stomach, and bowels, contained, and only just manage not to shit myself. Instead, I vomited. The pool of personal fluids stank, but the foul aroma emanating from the whole arena overwhelmed everything. Sweat rolled down my face, my stomach spasmed as I dry heaved again and again.

I knew, I'd always known, how close to the edge we as a species were. Over time mankind had overlain a thin veneer atop the savagery, the apex predator Homo sapiens evolved into in order to become the dominant life form on planet earth. It was an intellectual conceit created to convince ourselves we overcame our own natures, that we were no longer the vicious, ruthless conquerors of old.

Don't fucking believe it

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