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12 Days in Hell


He tried to run past her to call the cops but she grabbed his ankle and he tripped and
fell hard onto the wooden floor. He gained the upper hand by kicking her in the stomach.
He had never fought anyone in his life, and here he was fighting his undead wife for
his life.
He ran into the bathroom and locked the door.
She was soon outside it, breathing heavy and wild, banging on it and making
chattering sounds with her teeth. Danny looked all around the room to see what he could
find as a weapon to defend himself.
The fact that he was going to have to kill his wife started to sink in. He felt an
intense pain in his gut, and he found it hard to swallow.
He looked under the sink and found a large wrench that he had used to tighten the
water valves on the toilet.
It's do or die he thought to himself as he raised the wrench above his head and
shoved the door open with his free hand.
He knocked Molly to the floor and gave her a good whack to the temple.
She went down, never to come up again.
Danny started shaking and crying uncontrollably. The reality that he killed his wife,
his high school sweet heart, his better half, his best friend, started to sink in.
He hurried to the phone and dialed 911.
All he heard on the other line was static, hissing and buzzing. The line was dead. He
turned on the TV just in time to see the images from the local news choppers of riots in
the streets.
What the hell was going on, anyway?
The hospital was where the rioting started, they were reporting, when a large
gathering of people spilled from the building onto the streets, but they had no more
details than that.
It wasn't just a local thing, either–there were several news stations across America
telling how riots were starting, in numerous places all across the map. From the
Carolina's to California, it was like all the country was taking a turn straight to hell.
Loved ones attacking each other, even children eating the flesh of their parents.
All phone calls to 911 got busy signals or just static. The police started out heavily
armed but there were so many undead that they were overwhelmed. Most jails across the
USA were filled with both the sick and the healthy. The cops could no longer tell the
difference, and more attacks would happen in the jails and prison cells. There was a
problem of overcrowding,
Danny couldn't believe all of this had been happening while he slept. There should
have been warnings and sirens—he shouldn't have had to just wake up next to the wild
beast that was once his loving wife.
His heart was broken and he wished that he could die. He never had it in his heart to
hurt anyone.
Now his simple life had turned into a struggle for survival.
Danny sat in the corner of the room feeling sorry for himself, something he had
never had to do in his entire life. His future no longer mattered to him. He could live
without the promotion. He couldn't imagine anything worse than this, whatever the hell it
was.
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