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Come Out and Play

Arnold grasped the door handle tightly, pulling against it with all the strength his weak little arms could muster. Outside the sound of brittle finger nails snapping as they scrapped and scratched against the door, threatening to claw their way through and tear at Arnoldís pale, soft flesh.

"Leave me alone!" he yelled.

The clawing stopped.

Arnold raised his head to peer out of the security peephole. There were still four of them outside, waiting for a chance to play with him.

"Uurgh," came the reply in a low and gurgling raspy guttural tone.

"Please," Arnold whimpered. "Just go away."

The clawing stopped again.

Arnold looked again. This time he could not see anyone.

"Just board the sucker in," one of the four men in the hall outside Arnoldís dormitory room said. "Freakiní zombie will starve to death if it canít get out."

Story by:

Scott Wilson

submitted at 6:13am

4 June 2009