Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The sewers weren't their first choice.

But after Nessa's burial, after the rooftop scout spotted a hunting group of raiders closing in, after the streets echoed with the snarls of a new infected swarm—they had no choice.

"Down or dead," Lara said grimly, lifting the rusted manhole cover as June winced at the smell.

Tess went first, her limp worsened from the long walk, but her will unshaken. Milo followed, eyes dull from grief, but steady. Lara went next, then June.

The cover clanged shut above them, sealing them in.

And the dark welcomed them like a forgotten god.

The air was thick. Almost unbreathable.

The tunnel stretched into pitch-blackness, just wide enough to walk single file. The only light came from a battery lantern clutched in June's trembling hands. It flickered every few steps.

"I hate this," Milo whispered.

"It's safer than the streets," Lara replied. "No line of sight, no snipers, no infected with speed."

"Just ones that crawl," June muttered.

The silence was unnatural. No wind, no birds, no city sounds—just their own breath echoing back at them, distorted by damp stone.

And then… a sound.

Drip. Scrape. Drip. Scrape.

They all froze.

Tess raised her flashlight. "Left wall. Something moved."

Milo pulled his knife.

"Keep walking," Lara whispered. "Slow. Quiet."

But the sound followed them. Always just behind. Never rushing, never pausing. Just… following.

They reached a collapsed pipe, rusted open like a gaping mouth. "We rest here," Lara said. "Five minutes. No more."

They sat in silence, backs to the wall, watching the dark.

Tess closed her eyes. "You think it's one of the smart ones?"

"Maybe," Lara whispered. "Or maybe it's just the dark playing tricks."

But Milo wasn't so sure. "Something down here is breathing."

"What?"

He looked at them. "I can hear it. Not ours. Something… wet. Slow."

They held their breath.

And there it was.

Inhale. Pause. Exhale.

The kind of breathing that wasn't mechanical or human.

Something alive.

Then the lantern died.

Pitch black.

June gasped.

A whisper brushed Tess's ear: "Run."

She screamed.

Lara shouted, "MOVE!"

They bolted through the dark, blind, scrambling along the tunnel walls. Hands slipped in slime, feet splashed through stagnant water. They didn't know where they were going—just away from it.

Something howled behind them. Not loud. Not monstrous. Deliberate. Measured. Like it was enjoying the chase.

Finally, a rusted ladder appeared in Lara's fading flashlight.

"Up! Now!"

One by one they climbed, Lara last, axe in one hand. She swore she saw fingers reaching for her foot.

But then they were out—breathless in an alley behind a collapsed church.

The sky above had never looked so beautiful.

They collapsed on the pavement, panting.

June looked back at the manhole.

"What was that?"

Lara didn't answer.

Because she didn't know.

Only that it had breath.

And it remembered them.

And it was still down there.

Waiting.