qquinntessential
It was like night of the living dead out in the graveyard, hands bursting from beneath the soft soil of the earth, moans ringing on the wind, a full moon illuminating the horrors that clawed their way from the graves they’d been dug. The Earth would scream and cry as they swarmed over the land, eating all in their path, slaves to a mindless hunger that drove them to kill, eat, kill, eat, kill.
Except… there’s only one hand waving above the soil, and only a faint voice can be heard, instead of the wailing of a zombie horde.
“Hey, some help? Can someone help me outta here?”
Jude’s cursing himself and his need to show off. He’d jumped off the top floor of a building to freak out some kids, nothing he’d never done before, nothing he wasn’t probably going to do again. They always screamed at the sight of the guts on the ground, the splattered blood- it was pretty great.
But the idiots had panicked this time. Before he could reform, they’d gathered him up, dug him a hole on the outskirts of the nearest graveyard, and bailed.
And now he was six feet under, stuck until someone grabbed a shovel and moved the dirt.
Yeah, right. Who’s gonna help the waving hand in a cemetery? They’re more likely to run screaming in the other direction.
At least it wasn’t Halloween.
“I’ve got like 20 kilos of coke with your name on it if ya get me outta here!”
