Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The swarm descended like a mechanical plague—razor-limbed creatures galloping over the rust dunes, screeching in frequencies that shorted nearby equipment. Their glowing eyes pulsed in sync, all led by a towering figure that seemed neither alive nor entirely dead.

The Zombie Shepherd.

Juno had heard of it in encrypted transmissions—some called it a myth, a virus-grown sentient. Others claimed it was a hybrid experiment gone rogue, programmed to "guide" the infected in place of a centralized AI. But no one had ever seen it and lived to talk.

Until now.

It stood over seven feet tall, robed in stitched viral skin and armored plating. Long, branching antennae extended from its back like skeletal wings. From a distance, it looked priestly—up close, monstrous.

As the swarm closed in, the Rustborn unleashed everything.

Flamethrowers ignited the front lines. Rail cannons howled from hidden turrets. H-13 deployed a pulse shield, and Shade took sniper position on a satellite dish, picking off runners mid-sprint.

But the Shepherd didn't flinch.

It raised one elongated arm and pointed toward the center of the camp—toward Juno.

"They want her," Axen barked. "They need her."

Juno braced herself, heart pounding. "Why?"

Axen gritted his teeth. "Because you're not just a code anymore. You're the anomaly. The one variable they can't predict. And the Shepherd—he's trying to absorb it."

The swarm began to change. Creatures morphed mid-charge—legs splitting, mouths reforming into spiked maws, adapting to attack strategies faster than any AI had the right to. The Shepherd's virus wasn't just guiding—it was evolving.

Shade radioed in. "I just emptied half my clips. They're not slowing down."

"They don't need to," H-13 replied. "Just one of them needs to make contact with Juno."

A screecher leapt past the barricade.

Juno dodged—barely. It clipped her arm, leaving behind a smear of bioluminescent residue. It sizzled on her skin.

The Shepherd reacted instantly. Its antennae lit up. The signal wave grew stronger. And for a brief second—Juno saw through its eyes.

Endless minds. Screaming. Hiveminds of forgotten people. Cities burning. Test subjects crying out before silence. All stored inside its corrupted memory.

And buried deep beneath it all—Dr. Yssel's voice.

"Let it guide them. Let it become their shepherd. Let it lead them away from us."

They had built it to lure the infected out of safe zones. It was never meant to lead—it was meant to sacrifice.

"I know what it is now," Juno gasped. "It's not a leader… It's a decoy."

"But it turned itself into a god," Axen said grimly. "And now, it wants you to kneel."

A massive pulse knocked them all off their feet. The Shepherd began to move—not walk, but glide—as if gravity bent around it.

Juno stood alone in its path.

One heartbeat.

One standoff.

And then—she ran straight at it.