Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition
Chapter 1328 - 1328: Story 1328: Her Bite, My Regret

I told myself I'd never hesitate again.

Not after Daniel.

Not after I buried his journal in ash and tears.

But when her teeth sank into my arm, I didn't pull away.

I let her.

Her name was Jenna. She'd been part of a splinter group we crossed paths with—refugees from the Southern Collapse. Quiet, clever, her dark curls always tucked behind her ears, her laugh rare but real.

She made traps with Tess. She played cards with Milo. She stitched Ryder's wounds and shared a jar of honey she'd saved since before the outbreak.

And somewhere in the smoke of survival, she made me feel something again.

Something fragile.

Something dangerous.

We took shelter that night in a collapsed courthouse. Rain leaked through the marble ceiling. We huddled around a lantern, heatless and humming.

Jenna sat beside me.

Her hand brushed mine.

"I'm not made for this world," she whispered.

"You're still here," I replied. "That's enough."

"No," she said. "It's not."

Later, we split up to scavenge.

She and I checked the judge's chambers.

That's when we heard it—a crash. A screech.

Three roamers had gotten in.

I shot two. She handled the last—until it lunged and knocked her to the ground.

I pulled it off.

But I was too late.

Its teeth had already found her shoulder.

She stared at me, eyes wide. "Did it break skin?"

I nodded.

Silence fell like judgment.

I should've done it then.

I should've ended it.

But she didn't look like the others.

Not yet.

Not sick.

Not dead.

Just Jenna.

Alive.

Still breathing.

She sat against the wall, panting.

"I don't want to turn," she said. "You know that, right?"

"I know."

"Will you stop me before I do?"

I opened my mouth, but the words didn't come.

Instead, I sat beside her.

An hour passed.

Two.

She grew colder. Paler.

She rested her head on my shoulder and whispered, "Lara... I'm scared."

That's when she twitched.

Just once.

Her hand curled like a claw.

And before I could even raise my pistol—

She bit me.

The pain wasn't sharp.

It was final.

Like a bell tolling in my bones.

I shoved her back.

Shot her through the heart.

She collapsed—eyes wide, mouth red.

Still beautiful.

Still hers.

Now I sit alone in the judge's chair.

Bandaged arm. Loaded gun.

One bullet left.

The others don't know yet.

I told them I needed to scout.

But really... I just needed space to decide.

Was this the end?

Or was this my chance to forgive myself?

Her bite was not what doomed me.

My regret was.

Because I waited.

Because I hoped.

Because I loved her after the bite.

And in this world, love is the most lethal delay.