Spookerella | Horror Short Stories

6 | Their Stories Untold

The costumes worn that dreary night in October with the rain slashing down, whipping against their faces, they were more than costumes. The torn and blood-stained clothes were that of their fallen brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, even their lovers. They signified the strength they held and remorse they felt for what had happened the previous year on Halloween night. Not that they would ever admit to any of this.

Heads held high, they wandered into the forest, posing as the walking dead that surrounded their homes, their base and their lives. The world had become the desolation zone they had attempted to fend off. It had become a wasteland from the dystopian novels that Ary used to read when she was a teenager.

The years had worn on her face, even for someone who had just turned twenty-one a few months ago. Ary had become like the living dead since the zombies came around when she was fifteen. She had to grow up fast to protect her friends and family, but they had all dwindled out, one by one. Their lights no longer shone in the mirror of her eyes. All that was left was a dull ache, wrinkles at the edges and bruises from a lack of sleep.

Her face told her stories more than her words did. Maybe that was more of a blessing than a curse for anyone they recruited on their travels. It meant she avoided awkward questions.

It was different for Rodney. He trudged along with his hands in his pockets, face cast in shadow. He barely looked up to keep an eye on the others around him, but he didn't need to. Over the years he had learned to listen for the slightest inconsistency to the groups' general sound. Their footsteps, breathing patterns and everything between. 

Ary was who he looked after the most, though. After her sister – his lover – had died during a zombie raid, he had promised to look after her along with the only other surviving member of Ary's clan, her boyfriend, Damian. After facing his own loss, he did not wish the same on the woman who had already lost enough in the battlefield.

The others all had their own similar stories.

Damian had met Ary in the desert where she had been travelling in a school bus across the country, attempting to find safety elsewhere. Damian now wore the clothes of his grandparents who he watched die right in front of him after zombies broke into their home. He had been helpless to save them. Perhaps he could do some good with this group of misfits.

The twins Luna and Rosa wore their older brothers clothes with their own. He had died protecting their rag-tag group from the zombies who had infiltrated their last base a year ago.

All those trudging in the darkness with their loved ones clothes on had all lost something in these trying times. Yet, they continued prodding on to nowhere.   

Word count = 500 words

Written for the Come And Sit With Us's prompt for the Halloween Vault 3D.