Whispers of the Undead

It comes from behind me. I stop dead in my tracks, frozen at the sound of rustling leaves. It’s past ten now. The street is lit only by stars. The faintly glowing streetlight near the end of the block finally gives up like all the others, disappearing into the night. I reach into my jeans to grab my phone. Half of it already peeks out from my pocket. I frantically turn on my phone flashlight and glance behind me. Seeing nothing, I cautiously spin around, holding my phone out like a weapon. 

The path behind me is clear. The owner in the recently opened coffee shop flips the sign on the door to read, “Closed, sorry!” From my feet, I hear a soft purring noise. I shift the flashlight downwards to light the ground in front of me, and a black cat stands only inches away from me. It cocks its head, meowing. I stare back at it, afraid to break eye contact. It takes one last look in my direction before circling me and cantering forward, momentarily glancing back, as if asking me to follow it. 

Pure curiosity takes over, and I switch my phone flashlight off, intrigued by the small feline. It’s still crouched several feet ahead of me, waiting for me to tag along wherever it’s headed. I send a quick text to my mom letting her know I’ll be home late, and rush after the cat.

It seems to think we’re playing a game. I jog to catch up, and it sprints away. I stop and the cat freezes, staring at me yet again. We go on like this for a while, following each other throughout the communal town of Clawson. As we dash through bushes and down alleys, we get further and further away from all signs of a neighborhood. It’s too late to turn back now. Thoughts spin in my brain, and I realize I don’t even know which way I came from anymore. I see nothing but trees and branches, and it all begins to blur together, creating one big forest of uncertainty and doubt.

The wind picks up and I struggle to stay on my feet. The cat makes a loud hissing noise as if motivating me to keep going. I reach down to my now aching ankle and find a long scratch stretching down my calf. A sense of regret fills me. I shake my head and rub my eyes, pushing away the looming state of panic.

When I open my eyes again, the cat is no longer in my line of sight. I consider giving up, collapsing on the ground. Would anyone even hear if I call for help? I check my phone. No signal. I limp forward, whimpering. I squint my eyes, looking for anyone or anything that could possibly get me out of here. What appears to be a clearing opens up ahead and I desperately stumble over to it. I push through the last of the trees, and finally the moon shines above me, full and bright. 

In the clearing, several tents sit in a circle. It appears to be an abandoned campsite. A dying campfire sits in the middle, a small cloud of smoke rising into the night air. A pile of sticks sits beside the campfire, one still topped with a marshmallow ready to be toasted and eaten. Exhausted and delirious, I stagger into the closest of the tents, collapse on top of the empty sleeping bag, and instantly fall asleep.

I wake up well-rested and with much more clarity than the night before. Stepping out of the tent, the rising sun brings a smidgen of hope back to me. Now that there’s light, I examine my leg, and find it’s not as bad as it had seemed in my obscured view the night before. Determined to find a way back home, I begin searching the campsite for anything that could be of use. I use a half-empty water bottle sitting on a log nearby to clean my leg. I splash some of the water onto my face, trying to wake myself up from this nightmare. 

After wandering around for a while longer, I find a variety of animal traps, set open as if this was an open hunting ground. The entire area brings an eerie feeling to the situation, and all I want is a way out. Growing more fearful by the second, I turn towards the campsite and start walking back.

I freeze after getting back to the campground as I assess my surroundings. Only one tent still stands upright. All the others lie on the hard dirt floor, some carelessly tipped over, some looking like they had been dismantled in a hurry. As if someone was trying to escape. A feeling of dread is growing in my stomach. This is no longer a safe place to stay. I need to get out of here.

I walk circles around the campground. It feels like the trees are closing in around me. I sink to the ground and lay my head in my hands. I breathe heavily, tears springing to my eyes. I’ll never get out of here. No one will even know where I went, thinking of the useless phone sitting in my pocket

Just then, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I can barely control my excitement. This is it. Someone has come to save me. I lift my head and whirl around to check who’s there. Nothing but trees. There’s no one there. I jump to my feet. 

“Who is it? Who’s there? I know you’re in there,” I scream into the endless woods. No response. Tears stream down my face as I continue begging and pleading to be saved, receiving no response but the whistling of the wind.

The whistling starts to grow louder, and I begin to doubt whether it’s coming from the wind or from something, someone in the woods. It comes from all directions, and I whirl around trying to find where the noise is coming from. Convinced I must be going crazy, I continue to reason with the intensifying noises.

“Please, please help me. Why are you doing this? Don’t leave me here,”

The rustling coming from the right of me amplifies, and I stay deathly still. I catch a glimpse of something walking towards me, coming from deep in the woods. As it approaches, I come to a realization that whatever this is is not a person, but a monster. It has on a raggedy jacket and cargo pants that appear to be covered in mud. Its face is nonhuman, splotched with mud with one eye open. 

It tilts its head at me, saying nothing. I resist the urge to scream and run for my life. Zombies were supposed to be the product of nightmares. This is real life. I slowly back up, refusing to take my eyes off this monster. The more I retreat, the closer it comes to me. It reaches its grimy hand out towards me, and I take an even larger step back.

From behind me, something grazes my back. I momentarily look back, and a second zombie stands, taller and thinner than the first. Its t-shirt appears to have once been white, but is now cloaked with red and brown. I scream and shove it away from me, but I’m now being targeted by dozens of these monstrous creatures. 

I scream hopelessly for help as the zombies close in from all angles. The monsters are no longer silent. They moan and groan as they stumble towards me, arms reaching out in my direction. I try to elbow my way through them, but they stand together like a brick wall stopping my escape. 

The circle of the zombies is monumentally shrinking. There’s no way out. A smaller creature pushes up against me, and I realize it’s the same black cat that got me into this mess. I should be mad. I should hate it for taking us here, but looking down at it, it looks just as frightened as me. In my last moments, I set it in my lap and bury my head in its soft fur, bracing myself for whatever comes next.

The zombies reach me, piling onto me. I feel their cold, bloodless hands trying to take my life just like theirs was once taken. I refuse to move my eyes to look at them. They stay closed shut, pressed into the poor cat in my lap. I can hear it hissing and screeching, trying to save us both. I fade in and out of consciousness. The last thing I feel is the cat licking me, as if checking to make sure I’m okay. “I’m okay,” I whisper as my heart slows. I try and fail to finish another sentence before slipping away. “I’m…..”