Zombie Mode

• Christopher Poermandya, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2011

My eyes flashed open. I surveyed my surroundings. I was in an old, abandoned two-storey house. The floorboards were rotten. I noted that I would need to watch my step. I was armed only with a pistol. I would need a better weapon. I explored the little area in which I was confined into. I found a white outline of an Olympia Shotgun on a wall in the lower level. ‘Perfect’ I thought. I shoved points into the wall and a shotgun popped out. I picked it off the wall and holstered my pistol. I heard groans from the upper level. I swore. ‘They’re here’ I ran upstairs. A shambling corpse greeted me with a smile. ‘Eat lead,’ I thought as I released a shell into its head. (150 points) Its approach stopped there. I continued advancing. When I reach a hole in the wall, I built a barrier using discarded pieces of wood. (10 points per wood) I ran around fixing each barrier, desperate to hold off the onslaught. I stopped downstairs and peered through the window. A zombie appeared in my line of sight. I fired. It didn’t even reach my barrier. I kept a look-out. Suddenly, I heard a maniacal laugh. I swore as I turned around. I was face to face with Hell itself. I swore again. Guns were of no use at such close range. I stabbed for all my pitiful life was worth. (170 points) Blood fogged my vision. ‘I... need... to rest...’ I thought. While I was resting, three more zombies broke through my shoddily built barriers. I swore. Things could not get worse. Guess what? They did. Two more zombies broke through my barriers as I got back to my feet. It’s times like these when I really wish I had a mini-gun. Or at least an assault rifle. I fired randomly. (500 points total) More zombies shuffled into the room. There was no time to rebuild my barriers. I would have to fight to the death. I fired all my shells. (700 points) I cursed, swapping to my pistol. Such a puny weapon would hardly do anything to these zombies. Soon, I was only left with my knife. My knife, and my fists. I knew in my heart that I was doomed. No one had ever made it through this whole level with only their knife. Not even a pistol. Soon I was overwhelmed by the horde of hungry undead. I fell to the ground cursing as a laugh echoed across the room. Only one headshot? I was pathetic.
Dang, COD Zombies can be frustrating.