Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

Ryder hadn't spoken all morning.

He walked ahead of the group, alone, checking the path, keeping his eyes on the horizon—but not really seeing it. His jaw was clenched. His knuckles white around the hilt of his knife.

Tess noticed first. "Something's wrong."

"He's always quiet," Milo said.

"Not like this," she replied. "This is… haunted."

They reached the remnants of a roadside motel at noon—three stories of crumbling concrete and shattered neon. Lara signaled the all-clear, and they swept through the rooms. Tess found a half-full water tank. Milo grabbed supplies from the overturned vending machine.

Ryder disappeared into Room 302.

No one followed—until an hour passed and he hadn't come out.

Lara knocked first. No answer.

When she pushed the door open, she found Ryder on the floor, sitting against the moldy wall. His coat was off. His hands were shaking.

And lying on the bed was her.

A woman. Maybe mid-twenties. Filthy wedding dress. Bite mark on her shoulder.

She was tied to the bedpost with a shredded curtain cord. Not struggling. Just… breathing. Shallow. Slow.

"Who is she?" Lara asked softly.

Ryder didn't look up. "Lia. My wife."

Tess stepped in. "You never mentioned her."

"She wasn't supposed to be here," he said. "This motel… we were going to spend our honeymoon here. We joked about it when things were still normal. And then—when the world fell—she said we should go anyway. Said we'd survive better if we stayed where we were supposed to be happy."

He looked at Lia, eyes wet. "I found her here. Three weeks ago. Still waiting. Still… her."

"She's bitten," Lara said gently.

"She was mine," he said. "And now… she's turning."

Lia's eyes fluttered open. They were clouded. She didn't speak—but her lips moved, forming words that didn't make sound.

Ryder knelt beside the bed. "I came back for you," he whispered.

Her hand lifted. Weak. Trembling. She touched his face with fingers that were already stiffening.

Tess turned away.

Lara stepped back.

Only Milo stayed.

"Do you want help?" he asked Ryder.

"No," Ryder said. "I'll do it. I just… I need a minute."

They waited outside the room.

The shot came a few minutes later.

One bullet. Clean.

Then silence.

Ryder emerged, blood on his shirt, but not crying. Not speaking. Just walking.

Lara reached for his arm. "You don't have to carry it alone."

"I do," he said. "She was mine."

He didn't say anything else for the rest of the day.

That night, they made camp near a dry creek bed. No one asked for stories. No one told jokes.

Only the wind whispered.

Tess finally said, "Love doesn't always save us."

"No," Lara replied. "But it keeps us human long enough to say goodbye."

Ryder didn't sleep.

He sat by the fire, staring into the flames like he could still see her hand reaching for his cheek.

Still hers.

Still his.

Even now.