The zombies beat upon the door to the church. The flowering vines clung to the brink walls like dead man's fingers, while the sun gazed relentlessly upon their torn and damaged limbs. The daylight didn't detour them. Neither did the cross, holy water, or relics. All that mattered was the thick wooden door separating them from their desire.

Cries of despair, pleas for mercy and sanctuary went unnoticed. Only the nearby birds heard and their hearts were cold and unyielding. "Sanctuary!" they screamed. "Give us sanctuary!" But the pastor and his flock refused them mercy.

Left to the sun's brilliant heat, they soon lost their strenght. The birds were mericiless too.

Comments

Want to comment? Login or Join

Login Sign up
ganymeder over 11 years ago

Okay, the phone rang in the middle of my writing. Poor excuse, I know, but I did the best I could. :)

Galen over 11 years ago

Oh! Empathizing with the zombies. Interesting questions raised. Good work, especially considering the ringing phone.

ganymeder (joined over 11 years ago)
Visit Website

Author Catherine Russell shares her life with her high school sweetheart, their son, and two ferocious puppies in the Wilds of Ohio while writing short stories, editing her novel, and learning more about the craft every day. Her work has been published in Flash Me magazine, Metro Fiction, Beyond Centauri, and the ‘Best of Friday Flash – Volume One‘ and the ‘Best of Friday Flash – Volume Two‘ anthologies.

No favorites

Story information

License

Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

Contact


We like you. Say "Hi."