Night of the Living

Classic zombie story with a twist.

Donald sat on his sofa, flipping through the various channels on the television. The weather outside was horrible. The wind had picked up, blowing the sheets of rain, which had accompanied it, sideways, pelting the windows and siding of his house. Lightning crashed and thundered in the sky above his house, flashing bright light into his living room. Despite the perfect weather for staying inside and watching television, there didn't seem to be anything good on. He stopped on one channel that caught his attention. He happened to catch a rerun of one, out of three, of his favorite trilogies. However, upon watching more of it, he realized that it was the third movie in the series, which was the one that had disappointed him when it had come out in theaters. The same actors had not been in the third one, the villain was too laughable to be taken serious, and the plot had stunk. Donald moaned with disgust as he continued to surf the digital waves of video frequency.
Just then, he stopped on one channel. It was the science fiction channel. The movie which was showing had been run at least once or twice each week for the past couple of weeks. Donald had caught glimpses of the movie as he had channel surf in the past. It was your typical monster movie, but with a little more gore and special effects. The plot was about a group of kids who encounter a group of terrible monsters who resemble themselves. They would walk upright, swaying back and forth as they did. Their arms were sometimes raised in front of them as if they wanted to reach out and grab their victims, moaning as they did. The worst part was that if they caught you, they would not hesitate as they started to chew on you. They would chew on any body part they could get their hands on. In some types of these movies, they would be hungry for brains, other versions, it would not matter...they ate every part of you. The part that never changed throughout the various movies, books, and stories, was that once you were bit by one, you would turn into one. No matter how much of you had been eaten, you would "return" as one of them, along with gaining the same bloodlust and hunger for flesh.
The thought made Donald shiver. He was a bit older than the people who generally watched these kinds of movies. These days, he wanted to stay away from all of the blood and gore that Hollywood thought was now needed to make people watch their movies. Back when Donald was a boy, these monsters were able to scare you without all of the blood and gore that Hollywood had added. With these types of monsters, the gore was a big part of their story and background, but since the last decade or so, it seemed as though the movie-makers were beginning to overdo it...at least in Donald's opinion.
Donald continued to sit and try to find something worthwhile to watch, until a crack of thunder preceded the flickering, then a total lapse of power throughout his house. The clap of thunder that had hit, made Donald jump. It was almost loud enough to have been God Himself landing on earth from his throne in Heaven. However, the feeling that he had gotten upon hearing the crash and boom was not one that would have followed a presence such as Himself.
Getting up off the couch, Donald blinked a few times, looking around, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark. There were a set of candles in the closet under the stairs, and the matches were in the kitchen. As Donald walked around the end of the couch, a flash of lightning lit up his living room. He stopped, during the split second that his living room had been full of light; Donald thought he saw someone walking in front of his front window outside. Donald turned and walked to one of his front windows. He looked outside, squinting as he did in order to see through the pitch black of the night, along with the millions of beads of water, beating down from the sky. A couple more flashes of lightning gave Donald enough light to see that, either he was seeing things, or whoever was at his front window was no longer any where within sight. Donald shrugged, then turned around, heading for the closet under the stairs.
Reaching the closet, Donald opened the door. Suddenly, Donald was attacked. Something jumped out from the closet and came right at him. Stifling a terrified shout, Donald grabbed the scarecrow Halloween decoration that he stored in the closet. It was now November, and Donald had since put away all of his Halloween decorations till next year. Donald sighed, angry at himself, and pushed the inanimate attacker back into place in the closet. He then leaned down and found the cardboard box which held the various candles that he had been keeping. He picked up the box, and then walked with it to the kitchen. In one of the drawers under the countertop, Donald found the gas lighter. Donald took the candles and lighter into the living room. Within the next five minutes, Donald had placed the candles throughout the living room and kitchen, lighting them as he did. The living room still was dark, but he had enough light to see for the time being.
As Donald placed the empty box on the coffee table in front of the couch, he swore that he could hear an odd noise. It sounded like someone, or something, was scratching at his back door in the kitchen. Donald didn't think much of it at first. He just assumed it was one of the few stray cats that happened upon his property on occasion. He loved cats, and would often leave a little bit of milk for them. However, that thought dissipated as quickly as it had entered his mind when a dull thudding began to follow. Donald went to investigate, thinking maybe it was some kids trying to pull a prank on him. As soon as he started for the kitchen, he heard his front door rattling. Although the sound of the thunder and the deafening sound of rain filled the house, he could still make out the sound of doorknob being violently shaken. It was as if there were a couple of intruders trying to break into his house.
Donald began to panic. He lived alone. If there were truly people trying to break into his home, there was little he could do. Surely, one burglar he might be able to handle, but the sounds coming from outside his front AND back doors told him that there was more than one. If either, or both, of them had any weapons, then he, without a doubt, have little chance of defending himself. Donald hurried to the front door. Quietly, he raised his eye to the peephole just within eye level of the door. Looking out, he was a bit disturbed at what he saw. Whoever was outside, was standing on his front doorstep, head bowed. The person's arm was stretched out, and their hand rested on the frame. With the lightning flashing, Donald could make out more detail. The person wore tattered clothes, the one sleeve of his shirt, which was on the same side as the person's outstretched arm, appeared torn off, as if someone had ripped it off. Donald's pulse began to quicken as he examined the outstretched arm, the lighting giving him a chance at another look. He had to blink a couple of times before realizing he wasn't seeing things. The arm was a pinkish tan color. The skin was unblemished. Donald saw no breaks in the skin, no bones protruding or showing, and no scars that he could distinguish. The sight made Donald's breathing increase, not that he noticed right away.
After the person...no, the creature, outside, apparently caught its breath, it began working at the door again. This time, however, it began to pound on it, as though it was trying to break it down, if not break a hole from which to gain entrance. Donald continued to watch through the peephole in horror. Just then, the head rose up and Donald got a look at the face. The face frightened him more than the arm had. The face was the same pinkish tan color. The face showed BOTH eyes, and they were actually in their sockets! The eyelids were still there, and blinked as it gazed back into the hole, knowing that it was being watched. The cheeks looked smooth, with barely any blemishes. The lips were complete and just a few reddish shades darker than the skin surrounding them. Donald hadn't seen any teeth or jaw showing through any holes in the cheeks. The natural snarl that should have been there was replaced with an almost gentle smile, with no teeth exposed. Donald had to stop himself from involuntarily vomiting as he looked at the face of the monsters he had watched on television.
Donald used the back of his hand and wiped the sweat from his brow. He could feel the numerous sores and gaps, where flesh should have been, as he did. In disbelief of the events unfolding in front of him, he began to scratch the left side of his head, seeing as the right side displayed a giant gap, exposing parts of his brain. It was then that he noticed that he had soiled himself. Looking down, he could see the dark spot on his cream colored dress pants. Although the thermostat was off in the house, it felt warm. Donald threw off his green and yellow, cotton vest, leaving on the white dress shirt underneath. Just then, a loud crash, mixed with the sound of wood splintering, came from the kitchen. Donald turned, and began to follow the noise. He did not make it far, however, as three of the most hideous looking creatures he had ever seen swaggered around the corner of the kitchen entranceway. All three appeared similar to the one on his front doorstep. Not one of them had any kind of bruise, blemish, dislocation, dismemberment, gash, rash, or any internal part of them exposed. The sight made Donald scream in terror. Forget Hollywood. This was real, and looked all as gory as what he had seen on television.
Donald turned, intending to flee, when he ran into something warm and smooth. He gasped as two repulsive pinkish tan hands grabbed him. It was the figure from outside his door. Somehow, it had managed to ram the door open. Now, it was here with him and the rest of the monsters behind him. Donald screamed in pain and fear as he was surrounded by the creatures, which began to feast. Donald's world went black.
A few hours later, Donald awoke. His head felt funny. Opening his eyes, he saw the ceiling above him. His vision was slightly blurred for a few moments. Donald put his hands to his face to wipe it, and noticed that something was wrong. He felt...alive.
NO, he thought, it can't be!
Donald felt his stomach start to gurgle. He was hungry. Then it hit him. He was hungry for rotting flesh. That shouldn't be, though. The thought of eating someone else's rotting, half exposed flesh should have sickened him. However, the more he thought about it, the more he hungered. Donald began to panic. He sat up and looked around. He was alone, sitting in the threshold between the living room and kitchen. Getting up, Donald ran upstairs to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, his jaw, which no longer hung loose from his skull and no longer exposed half his tongue or any of his teeth, dropped as he gasped. Looking back at him was a normal, living, human being. He was an ugly, grotesque looking horror. Now, in order to survive, he would have to become what he and his kind have come to fear.

Reviews

[Sans Oblast]

Nice read, I quite enjoyed it. I think the first thing would be that you need to break it up a bit, put some white space between your paragraphs. It's just it got a bit hard to follow, and breaking up the lines at the right point is a good way to emphasis certain parts, which is particularly important in a horror story.

You've used the supernatural element quite well, building up tension before fully revealing the plot. The Halloween costume makes a good anticlimax, grabbing the readers attention. The part where he realises what happening to him, with his flesh rotting, adds an extra element to the rest, which makes it much more gripping. I think you could play that a bit more even.

Excuse me if I stop here, I'll add some more in the morning, promise ;-). A good read, I think you could make it even better.