Somewhere during the night all the roads leading out of the cemetery had been closed off with great iron fences topped with nasty looking barbed wire. Pieces of bloodied skin waved in the sharp spring breeze as mementoes to the lucky few who'd managed to escape before the mausoleums released their charges.
He'd only gone in there as a dare - the alternative involved the school flag and a lot more athleticism than he possessed. Staying overnight on a bench in the largest cemetery in the whole county almost felt like a cop-out in comparison but he would have gone for anything that was less likely to land him in jail for a week or two.
Now he was stumbling about, covered in dirt and blood - possibly his, probably not - desperately trying to convince the other shambling semi-sentient undead that he was just fresh and definitely not alive in the slightest. He'd already seen what they did to the living and he didn't want to end up like them, he just wanted to live long enough to find a quiet enough place to jump the fence.
It was harder than he thought it would be, given that he was stuck in the middle of a mob of undead whose main purpose in the unlife seemed to be circling the innermost and oldest graves. They'd read the names on each tombstone again and again and again to the point where he found himself reciting them without even realising it.
He'd spent most of his energy persuading the undead around him that his stomach wasn't growling, it was just all those freshly decomposed gases escaping his rotting intestines. He wasn't even falling asleep on his feet because that's what a living person would do - he was just super focused on remembering the names and saying them right.
They'd only buy his act for so long so he took the biggest risk since he first ran into one of the undead breaking the legs of someone who'd only come there to mourn. He asked the person behind him if they wanted his place as they seemed so much more eager and deserving and he felt bad that they were all the way behind the heart of the group.
He got three places back before someone refused.
Before someone got suspicious.
Before he discovered just how fast they could all run.
He'd only gone in there as a dare - the alternative involved the school flag and a lot more athleticism than he possessed. Staying overnight on a bench in the largest cemetery in the whole county almost felt like a cop-out in comparison but he would have gone for anything that was less likely to land him in jail for a week or two.
Now he was stumbling about, covered in dirt and blood - possibly his, probably not - desperately trying to convince the other shambling semi-sentient undead that he was just fresh and definitely not alive in the slightest. He'd already seen what they did to the living and he didn't want to end up like them, he just wanted to live long enough to find a quiet enough place to jump the fence.
It was harder than he thought it would be, given that he was stuck in the middle of a mob of undead whose main purpose in the unlife seemed to be circling the innermost and oldest graves. They'd read the names on each tombstone again and again and again to the point where he found himself reciting them without even realising it.
He'd spent most of his energy persuading the undead around him that his stomach wasn't growling, it was just all those freshly decomposed gases escaping his rotting intestines. He wasn't even falling asleep on his feet because that's what a living person would do - he was just super focused on remembering the names and saying them right.
They'd only buy his act for so long so he took the biggest risk since he first ran into one of the undead breaking the legs of someone who'd only come there to mourn. He asked the person behind him if they wanted his place as they seemed so much more eager and deserving and he felt bad that they were all the way behind the heart of the group.
He got three places back before someone refused.
Before someone got suspicious.
Before he discovered just how fast they could all run.
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