Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

She wasn't like the others.

Not when the fever took her.

Not when her eyes dulled.

Not when her veins turned black.

Even when the hunger hit, she looked at me and whispered my name—once, before the growl replaced her voice forever.

And still, I didn't run.

Her name was Leena.

Before the world crumbled, she was the wild one.

She kissed me first. Shot first.

Always made the first move.

Even that night when the bite was fresh and I begged her to let me amputate…

She smiled through bloodied teeth and said, "Too late, love."

She changed in stages.

First the cold sweats, then the silence, then the stiffness in her limbs.

But she never attacked me.

She watched me.

Like some part of her still remembered.

Still cared.

I built a cage in the back of the burned-out café.

Not to trap her—but to keep her from the world.

Or the world from her.

She paced.

Snarled at birds.

Tore a stray raccoon apart once, but left me untouched.

At night, I'd sleep beside the bars, fingers through the metal, and she'd curl near my hand like a dog guarding a grave.

Some would say she was gone.

Some would've put a bullet in her brain without hesitation.

But I knew.

She knew me.

Even in that decaying shell.

When I read from her old journal, her head would tilt.

When I played her favorite record on the cranky old player, she'd stop moving entirely, just listening—like music made her human again for a minute.

I stayed for 28 days.

Feeding her. Talking to her.

Loving what was left of her.

Then came the strangers.

A scavenger crew. Armed, tired, paranoid.

They saw her behind the bars and didn't ask questions.

Just raised their rifles.

I stood between them and the cage.

Told them she was different.

Told them she was mine.

They laughed. My Virtual Library Empire (M-VLEMPYR)

They said I was mad.

Maybe I was.

One of them—a woman with a scar shaped like a crescent moon—asked, "Would you let her eat you, lover boy?"

I said nothing.

But the answer lived in my silence.

That night, I unlocked the cage.

She stepped out slowly. Her body jerked, inhuman. Her breath rattled.

She stood inches from me.

And I waited.

For the end.

For love's teeth.

But she didn't bite.

She touched my cheek.

Once.

Her skin cold as river stone.

Then turned and disappeared into the ruins.

I haven't seen her since.

But sometimes, when the wind howls and I smell rot and roses, I think she's nearby. Watching. Remembering.

I loved her monster.

Because her monster still loved me.

And in this world of death, that was more human than anything else.