Short Horror Stories

Zombified

The sun had long set, casting a dark shadow over the quiet suburban neighborhood. With every house's lights turned off and the streets dimly lit by sporadic streetlights, an eerie silence enveloped the town.

From a house, a TV screen flickered, illuminating a dim room. The news anchor's face was filled with fear. "Reports of individuals acting erratically and aggressively are pouring in from all over the country. If you see someone behaving unusually, avoid them and stay safe."

At the heart of this chaos was Kate. She was a renowned journalist who had recently uncovered a massive government cover-up that was feeding lies to the public. But as she dug deeper into her investigation, she felt as if she was being watched. A nagging voice at the back of her mind kept echoing, "The monsters aren't living under your bed; they are the voices in your head."

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. But as days turned into nights, those whispers became louder and more haunting. Everywhere she went, she felt eyes on her. Shadows seemed to dance, and murmurs echoed, "Zombified by the lies they've said."

One evening, as she sat down to write her findings, her neighbor Mark barged into her house. He looked deranged, with dark circles under his eyes. "They're after me, Kate!" he gasped. "Everybody's talking. Oh no, they'll never let go."

Kate, taken aback, tried to calm him down. "Mark, what happened? Who's after you?"

He mumbled, staring into the void, "Something I said ten years ago. They're canceling, canceling me. And they won't stop 'til everybody's zombified."

Suddenly, a deafening scream echoed from outside. They both rushed to the window. Their entire neighborhood had transformed. People walked aimlessly with hollow eyes, their faces void of emotion.

"They're pumping us with lies like it's formaldehyde. We're dead inside," Mark whispered.

In the distance, the city was ablaze, sirens blaring and chaos reigning. The zombified state wasn't just physical. It was a state of mind, where every word you spoke, every action you took, came back to haunt you. It was an apocalypse not of the dead, but of the mind.

Mark grabbed Kate's hand, pulling her away from the window. "We need to escape," he urged.

The duo decided to head towards the outskirts, hoping to find sanctuary. As they navigated the maze of mindless beings, they overheard fragments of whispered conversations. "You better shut your mouth and bite your tongue," a woman warned her child. Another murmured, "Welcome to America."

Kate and Mark found a makeshift camp of survivors, led by an old man named Patrick. "This isn't just about zombies," he said. "It's the culmination of society's obsession with the past, holding onto grudges, never letting go. We've become so entwined in our own stories and mistakes that we can't see the present."

As the group sat around a dim fire, a survivor named Sarah spoke up, "When it stops, we'll never know. We're hypnotized. And they won't stop 'til you're zombified."

Mark, with newfound determination, said, "We need to break this cycle. We need to find a way to wake people up."

Kate nodded, her journalistic instincts kicking in. "There has to be a way to counter the lies. There has to be a way to break the hold they have on people's minds."

Patrick interjected, "The government has a facility. It's said they have been experimenting with mind control for decades. That might be the root of this."

The next night, Kate, Mark, and a few others decided to infiltrate the facility. Inside, they found documents confirming Patrick's claims. They also stumbled upon a broadcasting system.

Using the system, Kate tried to transmit a message of hope and truth to break the hypnotic state. But as the message began, alarms blared. The facility was soon swarmed with mindless beings.

Mark looked at Kate, his eyes filled with determination and fear. "They're feeding off your broken mind. They won't die, they multiply. We've become so blind. They won't stop 'til you're zombified."

In a desperate attempt, Kate pushed Mark out of the room, sealing herself inside. She continued the transmission, hoping her words would pierce through the hypnotic state.

But it was too late.

As Mark and the survivors fled the facility, they heard Kate's screams. They had hoped for salvation, but the world was far gone. After the disastrous mission at the facility, Mark and the survivors sought refuge in an old abandoned church on the outskirts of town. With its tall Gothic spires and stained glass windows, it once stood as a beacon of hope. Now, it was a sanctuary against the zombified hordes.

The once melodious church bells now sounded eerie in the stillness of the night. "It goes on and on," whispered Lisa, a teenager who had lost her family. "When will it stop? When will it all end?"

"They won't stop 'til we're all zombified," responded Mark, his face pale from the horrors he had witnessed.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the church's thick wooden doors. The group tensed. Another thud, followed by the chilling chorus of hundreds, maybe thousands, "They're pumping us with lies like it's formaldehyde."

The zombified masses had found them. But these weren't just mindless beings; they retained fragments of their memories, making their intentions all the more haunting.

Mark and the survivors scrambled to barricade the doors. But with each thud, the doors creaked and groaned, threatening to give way. Through the gaps, they could see eyes, lifeless and hollow, but still burning with a hypnotic intent.

Amid the chaos, Lisa began to hum, a soft contrast to the horror outside. It was a tune from her childhood. The others joined in, their voices combining to form a melancholic melody. They hoped that maybe, just maybe, the familiar sound might pierce through the hypnotic trance of the zombified horde.

But the masses outside only grew louder, their chant echoing, "Zombified, Zombified." The church's doors buckled, and soon the zombified beings poured in, their voices becoming a terrifying harmony with the survivors' song.

One by one, the survivors fell prey to the zombified. Their memories and regrets consumed them, leaving them trapped in a state of eternal desolation.

Mark, the last to stand, was surrounded. As the haunting chorus enveloped him, his thoughts drifted to Kate, the journalist who had tried to break the cycle. He remembered her sacrifice, her screams, and the weight of the lies and deceptions of society that they both had tried to combat.

Tears streamed down his face as he whispered, "Pick it up," It was a plea, a desperate call for someone, anyone, to take up the mantle and bring an end to the nightmare.

But the horde was relentless. Their hypnotic chant, "Now everybody's zombified," drowned out Mark's cries. And as he was consumed, the chilling chant continued to echo throughout the night, a testament to a world lost to its own obsessions and regrets.

A world forever zombified.