Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition
Chapter 1353 - 1353: Story 1353: Touches That Burn

She came to me through fire.

Literally.

The barn was burning—crackling wood, smoke pouring like a ghost into the sky.

And through the flames stumbled a woman with ash in her hair and blood on her lips.

I should've run.

Should've lifted my rifle.

Should've stayed hidden.

But her eyes…

They weren't vacant.

They were alive.

I dragged her out from the blaze, my skin scalding as we collapsed together in the tall grass.

She coughed smoke and whispered, "I thought I was dead."

I didn't reply.

I just checked her for bites.

None.

Only burns.

Fresh, angry ones tracing her arms, her thighs, her neck.

I wrapped her in a blanket, and for a moment, I felt warmth that had nothing to do with the fire.

Her name was Rayna.

She said the farmhouse had been safe—until the family turned.

She burned them inside to stop the spread.

Didn't flinch when she said it.

"I gave mercy in the only way I could."

That night, I gave her my bedroll.

She slept beside me without fear.

I didn't sleep at all.

The next day, I caught her staring at the scar on my shoulder.

"You've been burned too," she said, gently tracing it.

Her touch seared more than the fire had.

We grew close in hours, the way people do when death circles them like wolves.

We scavenged.

We told stories.

We laughed—quiet, bitter laughs, but real.

And then, we kissed.

It felt like madness.

It felt like life.

Her lips were cracked.

Her skin still hot from the fire's aftermath.

But her heart… her heart beat like a war drum.

Later that night, I woke to her writhing beside me.

Not in pleasure.

In pain.

Her breath was ragged.

Her eyes were bloodshot.

And a rash, dark and webbed, crawled up her chest.

I grabbed my flashlight and checked again—still no bite.

No scratch.

But something was wrong.

"Did the fire get into your lungs?" I asked.

She shook her head slowly.

"I breathed something," she whispered. "In the basement. Before I set it all ablaze."

"What was it?"

"I don't know. Spores, maybe. Chemicals. It felt like… it wanted inside me."

She reached for me.

And I froze.

Because the heat of her skin…

It wasn't natural.

It pulsed.

It hummed.

It felt like fever fused with something unholy.

Still, I let her touch me.

Because love doesn't always come when it's clean.

Sometimes, it finds you covered in soot and sickness.

By morning, the rash had spread to her neck.

Her voice was a whisper of smoke.

But she still kissed me goodbye.

And that kiss burned deeper than fire ever could.

I buried her beneath blackened earth.

And as I stood there, hands shaking, skin flushed—

I couldn't tell if it was grief…

or infection.