The moan came, starting out slow, but its volume rising in intensity, signaling the others. Come at me, solanumis freaks! You will pay for what you did! I started to lift my sword, but my friends stopped me. "Too many," said our leader. I agreed, and sheathed my sword. The sheath was studded with jewels of the highest quality. Not that value had any importance. The sword, a katana, slid in noiselessly. Made of tempered steel, and laced with diamond dust, it could cut through anything. Especially a neck or skull. We left, leaving the dead to moan after us.
"I'm going to train some more," I said. The other three in the group watched as I picked up my rifle and climbed to the sniper tower.
They surrounded our compound, moaning, pushing against the fences. I put up my scope, lined up a head shot, and fired. Boom! One went down, but there were still more. I spent an hour working on my headshots, and then went down in front of the fences. They were still moaning, and I went to border of what kept me and my three friends from death. At this range, I brought out my shotgun, a 12-gauge, and fired. They went down as their heads came off, and kept firing reloading, until I became merciless, and stopped aiming at the heads. I wanted them to feel pain, but it didn't matter. They couldn't. I left, knowing that I cleared about half of the zombies away. The leader came down and asked, "Are you okay, Otto?" I replied with "No, Shadow, no, and I never will be." I went inside, into my room, and rested.
The next day, I looked out towards the lake, where two of my closest friends died. I remembered it clearly.
It was going to be a simple task, just a sweep through the lake, nothing big. I am an excellent diver, and so was my friend, A. We dove down off the boat and began searching for any undead that might have wandered in the lake. My other friend, S, who was a cat, stayed up to warn us of any attacks. As we dove, A found a cave that turned upwards so that there was an air pocket. A sat with his back towards the water. We spoke for a while about the traumatizing events. Then, a rotting hand burst out of the water grabbed A by his oxygen tank, and pulled him in. "NO!" I screamed, and dove in the water. But the zombie was already tearing out his skull, and eating his insides. I grabbed my spear gun and shot it through the head. It didn't matter. A was dead. I went up, carrying his body to the surface. S would be broken-hearted. She'd loved him. But when I got to the surface there was another one, tearing out S's throat. Wordlessly, I took my katana from its sheath, and sliced it in half. I tossed the halves off into the lake. I drove the boat to the Compound, sobbing.
In my room, I shed a tear, recalling those events. Shadow, Amy, and Rouge came in. they knew what I was remembering, and they understood. We had all lost loved ones, but no more than me, Otto the Otter.
