Through Death

I've been working on my novel recently. This is all I could come up with so far.

The story features a newly-turned zombie as the 'protagonist' and his relationship with his girlfriend...who's also a zombie.

Take a look and let me know what you think
-Mark-

Through Death

Somewhere in that apartment, the phone rang.

A sharp incessant sound that assaulted my ears, bringing me to my senses, back into a world I was sure I had departed from just moments ago.

The first thing I noticed was blood and broken glass, followed by the realization that I was lying face-first on the marble floor with my arm twisted at an unnatural angle.

Apart from that, everything else was a dull. Clouded memories filled my consciousness with images and sounds that meant nothing to me, something like watching a badly directed movie in a cheap cinema.

All of a sudden, the ringing stopped. Silence filled the air, poisoning the atmosphere with an ominous gloom. Amidst the unexpected quiet, a single name flashed across my mind:

Sarah...
Where was she?

I tried to pull myself up into a sitting position, but joints were stiff and muscles uncooperative. My broken arm didn’t help matters either.

The complete absence of pain when there should have been plenty should have aroused my suspicions. But, in my frantic struggle to find Sarah, the thought escaped me.


The interior of the apartment was an unpleasant sight, decorated by blood and rust.
Slowly I crawled across the living room, attempting to call out to her...but every syllable died in my throat. I could not speak. Every sound produced was a guttural slur, punctuated by infrequent snarls.

In my frustration, I rose to my feet in a sudden desperate movement, feeling bones and sinew crunch together. Swaying slightly, I took my first step and discovered that I could walk.
Suddenly, I sensed a movement somewhere behind me. Was it Sarah?


I turned slowly and shuffled towards the direction of the master bedroom. My body refused to move any faster in its present condition. I approached the bedroom door, which was left slightly ajar. With the hand of my good arm, I pushed the door wide open.

The room was pitch black, the colour of crows and ashes. From within its confines I could hear someone whimpering. And slowly but surely, a figure reached out from the darkness to touch me lightly on the cheek.

Without a doubt, this was Sarah.