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Nightmare Front 1917: Short Horror Stories of World War One

Short Horror stories inspired by World War One. Follow our character as he goes through a series of scenarios that is sure to shock you! note: This is my first time writing any piece of substantial literature. I apologize in the fore front for any grammar or spelling errors. I welcome any feedback and criticisms. If you like my work let me know and I will try to make more. I'm open to any suggestions. Thanks for reading!

Ethan_Early · Horror
Not enough ratings
8 Chs

The Living and the Dead

I awaken in my dugout. A soldier tells me it is time for my watch. I look to my wrist watch and find that it is eleven o'clock. I rise and gather my pack and my rifle. I walk out of my earthen bunker to find that it is a cool cloudless night. A waning moon beams overhead. I groggily make my way to my look out post. Many men are asleep littering the trench with bodies to and fro. I make my way up to the firestep and peer over the trench wall into no mans land. As time passes I try to keep my self awake the best I could when a lone figure appears out of distance. I cannot make out any clear features but it is most certainly a man.

I shout to wake my companions and ring the alarm bell. Soon men begin to take their positions along the firing steps. The figure moves slowly, the moonlight makes the figure glow. Then it happened. The figure stopped and rose slowly up in to the air. It must be levitating at least a hundred feet off the ground! We all stare in amazement for what kind of enemy trick is this. I am bewildered by the sight of this floating man for he remains motionless for quite some time. Some search lights have been rolled forward and cast a light peering through the darkness on the sill figure. I am horrified for the light shines through it! An apparition!

Then a single flare is fired, it travels high and far, its radiance burning through the darkness. What I next witnessed terrified me to my core. My eyes wide with fear for there was not just one apparition but many, all levitating at equal height and spaced evenly. I m even more horrified as the flare illuminates the landscape, hundreds tombstones are spaced across the broken ground. I tremble uncontrollably with fear, for now the flare's light burns out and darkness take hold of the land once again. The wispy fingers of the search lights probe the dark sky illuminating one individual specter after another. They hold their positions menacingly, the ghostly dead glaring down upon us.

I can not believe my eyes for a fear of what these ghost of the dead have intended for us living. Suddenly a gunshot breaks the dark silence. The order to hold fire is pass down but it is too late! The visible specters snap their heads to the source of the disturbance. Shrieking is soon heard rising from the distance growing ever louder, soon the rows of ghost above us let out an ear piercing wail. The scream is that of banshees, I cover my ears, other men follow suit. We watch in horror as these unholy specters dive toward our trench.

Without orders panicked men open fire. The mix of wailing, panicked screams, and gun fire ripple across the night sky. I watch as the fiendish apparitions pass in to the men. Their newly possessed bodies begin to rot and decay. I watch the man next to me become possessed and see that his face melts, his skin shreds, his abdomen burst open revealing the contents of his internal workings. His abdomen newly eviscerated one can see his liver, stomach and intestines. With his face melting, the flesh disintegrating before my eyes, He lets out a horrified blood curdling scream. His body falls to the floor.

I am absolutely terrified, for soon other men drop as well. I look up and see the hostile spirits whiz through the air above us, machine guns firing in a futile attempt to shoot them down. Flares display their heavenly radiance far in to the darkened night sky. Soon out of the corner of my eye I see the recently deceased man rise, his body horribly mutilated. He races toward me, his entrails trailing the ground behind him. In panic I fire my rifle. The shot pass through the chest, blood splatters, the zombified man lunges for me. Quickly I stick bayoneted rifle up into his chin, hurriedly reload the bolt and fire point blankly. The deceased man's head exploded with blood, brain, and fragments of skull splashing over me. He drops to the floor, his zombified remains convulse.

I realize that now I am in a massive melee between the undead and the living! I am suddenly attacked from behind. The groaning of a walking corpse fills my ear and grabs on to my shoulders. Panicked I thrust the butt of my rifle in to the undead attacker's stomach. I am shocked for instead of feeling a sudden rebound of the abdomen, I find that my rifle sinks in to the undead innards of my zombified assailant. The attacker bites down upon my left shoulder , I scream writhing in pain. He pulls with might and rips my flesh, exposing the blood and meat of my left shoulder. I pull my knife and break free from his grasp, I turn and slice at the undead throat of my attacker. Blood pours from his throat and he thrust himself upon me. We fall to the floor, I struggle to keep his gnashing teeth from causing me further injury. His eyes seemed to have melted in to his skull. Blood pours down my face and chest, soaking in to my uniform.

Surely my end is upon me for my arms strains to hold this ravenous corpse off me. Suddenly I see the butt of a rifle slam in to the skull of my undead assaulter. He is knocked off of me and on to the ground. I look up and see a hand reach down to me. A still living man! I take hold of his hand and he raises me to my feet. I look in to his blood shot terrified but confident eyes when he is knocked down on to the floor. The undead fiend tears in to the back of my new found savior. I am shocked, I pull my pistol from its holster and fire three shots in to the attackers skull. Chunks of flesh and skull fly as his head exploded. The undead solider falls on to my ally's body. I push off the newly dead corpse and try to aid my ally. His back terribly mutilated. He whimpers, " Finish me I'm done for". He looks to me with eyes of acceptance. Gut wrenching shame fills me. I level my revolver to his head. I look away as I pull the trigger. A shot sounds in to the night sky among the symphony of battle.

I heard more groaning grow louder and I look to find more of the mutilated undead down the trench. There is too many! I must flee! I search for my escape route. I find a ladder and place it to the trench wall. The groaning is louder, they are right on top of me! I hurriedly climb, my shoulder burning with intense pain, for the undead surround me. They grab hold of my foot and stall my ascension. I kick with what little energy I have left. My boot loosens and is soon forcefully removed from me, but I am free from the undead's grasp. I sprint almost hobbling for one foot is bare and is pained treading on the broken ground. I glance over my shoulder and see the battle still rages between the living and undead. The specters still wailing as they soar in the air. The sounds of: machine guns, rifles, wails and screams fade as I sprint as fast as my tired body will allow. Suddenly I trip and strike my head upon the ground. Everything is black.