Author Guest Post: Myra Nour
Get my two zombie short stories free and a taste of my horror writing.
Matt was terrified of the monsters his parents told him were outside their home. But he was bored. None of his friends were allowed outside; no more baseball games or riding their bikes in the neighborhood. He sneaks into the backyard to play. It should be safe, they had a tall privacy fence.When he is bitten by something he didn’t see, Matt runs to the basement to hide. His parents were going to be so mad he’d disobeyed them. Soon, he hears sounds from upstairs that petrify him. Non-human sounds.
Matt hunched in the dark, shivering in fear. The dampness of the small space crept across his skin, chilling him even more. The faint odor of mold and mouse droppings tickled his senses. Twitching his nose, Matt felt the sneeze building, but then it simply vanished.
Surprised, he rubbed his nose. He’d never been able to stop a sneeze before. His hand stilled as a loud thump came from overhead. Up there. In the house.
When another shiver rippled through him, Matt clasped his arms tight around his body. For a moment he’d forgotten he was hiding under the stairs in the basement.
He jumped, as if whatever, or whoever was above, could hear him flinch. Matt placed one hand over his heart. It felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest. Fear, that’s all it was, just like when he awoke from a bad nightmare, his heart racing like a scared rabbit. Taking a deep breath, he calmed down.
Then straining forward, Matt listened carefully. The drip of water from a pipe nearby was annoying, cutting through his concentration. From upstairs, muffled sounds filtered down into the basement. He dared to scoot closer to the opening, craning his neck out from under the stairs. Now he could hear the funny chattering noises above him.
Matt crawled out of his space and stood up; inching along, pausing every few feet to listen, only stopping when he reached the bottom of the stairs. He stared upward through the gloom. There was only one small window in the basement and it illuminated but a mere tiny square patch on the floor. If not for that opening to the outside, it would be pitch black in the basement, for Matt hadn’t dared turn the light on.
A bar of brightness shone beneath the door at the top of the stairs. Beyond that door was the kitchen.
Another loud noise above his head, from the kitchen. Matt stilled his hand on the rail. Had he really been thinking of creeping up those stairs and peeking beneath the door? He wasn’t sure, but his hand came back down to his side.
His thoughts were becoming more confused. He could hear more of those irritating, babbling sounds that made him want to cover his ears. No way was he going up those stairs now.
Waking from unconsciousness after being mugged, Joe staggers out of the alley toward the street. He finds chaos as he enters a zombie outbreak in progress. Scenes of gruesome horror make him want to run away, but Joe must quickly decide how he wants to handle a zombie apocalypse.
Joe whirled, almost fell again, but then was paralyzed with terror. The street was filled with scenes of confusion and mayhem. Multiple horrors unfolded as he stared. People ran back and forth in a mad dash that seemed without reason.
Three different car accidents blocked the street near the stop light. Two were clearly fender benders, but both cars in the third wreck were twisted heaps. No people, EMT’s or police were gathered around the accidents. Weird.
Even as he examined the carnage, a truck sped by him, honking the horn in a continuous, annoying blast. A small car flashed from the area behind the accident and the truck rammed its side. The car was pushed by the momentum across the street, crashing into a store window.
The driver of the truck jumped out, cursing. He was a big man with a beer belly. Stomping over to the car, he jerked the passenger door open. Mouth dropping open, he slammed the door shut, turned and ran toward the scene of the car pileup.
“Hey.” Joe tried to yell at the fleeing man, but all he could do was croak. Man, he needed water so bad. His throat was closed up and his tongue was swollen.
He saw movement on the driver’s side and the shadow of a figure in the back seat. Joe squinted. His eyesight wasn’t that great and he wondered if he wore glasses. Maybe they lay amongst the trash bags.
It looked like the two people were struggling with each other, but he couldn’t be sure. What had terrified the big man when he opened the door? Joe had thought it was leaving the scene of an accident, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Joe was numb with shock. He’d never seen such a violent accident happen right in front of him. What should I do? He was weak-kneed, still suffering the after effects of the beating. Joes’ inaction seemed to make the decision for him. Not doing anything seemed a safer choice.
His attention was grabbed by more strange activities nearby. Gangs of people stood and knelt over something lying on the sidewalk in several locations and red splatters spread out on the concrete around the grouped figures. Some of the gut-shriveling screams burst forth from the clustered figures, as well as moans. Had there been a massacre or horrific accident on a larger scale than the cars?
Other people ran past him shrieking. He frowned. What were they running from? A woman in a gray business suit hurled by with a pistol clutched to her chest. Holding a toddler in his arms, an elderly man huffed past him, glancing fearfully behind as he apparently struggled to move faster.
Myra Nour is the author of several best-selling romance novels, including Love’s Captive. She retired as CEO of BTSeMag in January 2016 and began focusing on her horror books. She is a huge fan of horror, loves The Walking Dead and devours zombie books. She is currently working on a zombie novel of her own.