His skull didn't break like they do in the movies - it just dented and his body fell for a few agonisingly slow minutes before he groaned and staggered to his feet, blood dripping down his snarling face. Her hands ached from the force of the it as she staggered herself, reeling as much as the monster she'd called husband til a few minutes ago.
The Undeath struck harder and faster than any hit she was capable of and running would only get her so far before her dear spouse tore after her and inevitably tore into her jugular. She wanted to hit him again and again and again, take out her rage at the stupidity of his actions - hiding the infection cut he got when they'd hopped that barbed wire fence a few miles back.
She wanted to put him down for good but the Undeath took away your ability to feel pain and in return it gave you greater strength than a living person could ever hope to achieve. After all, you don't tend to care much about torn muscles or broken bones when you're already a corpse.
There wasn't anywhere else for either of them to go. Their shelter, their perfect hideaway, would now be a his-and-hers tomb and a trap for anyone else who thought they'd found a great place to keep safe from the gore and chaos of the undying world outside.
With a one final breath she drew back her hand and punched him square in the mouth, cutting her hand on his teeth and sealing her own fate in a matter of minutes. Funnily enough, though she couldn't feel the infection at first, it seemed her dear husband could sense it in her and he calmed down immediately.
With the last few minutes of comprehension she grabbed a cable tie so they'd still be able to hold hands.
No comments:
Post a Comment