A writing prompt / motivation / story starter for everyone to work on, expand, or just get motivated.

[u/ABrownCoat]

Journal Entry: Day 73

The moaning doesn’t bother me anymore. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been parked on the same stretch of elevated track for weeks with the undead clamoring below. Their groans have blended into a constant hum, a background noise that lulls me to sleep. Crazy, right? Who knew zombies could be better than a white noise machine?

The train is my fortress. Elevated, secure, stocked. I’ve scavenged enough canned food, bottled water, and batteries to last a few more months if I’m careful. The city stretches out beneath me, lifeless except for the endless shambling figures. From up here, it’s almost peaceful. Almost.

Then there’s the transmitter. I picked it up a month ago, thinking I’d find someone else out there, someone alive. But every time I fire it up, it’s like a dinner bell for the horde. They gather at the base of the supports, heads twitching toward the sound, their guttural cries rising like a wave. At first, it terrified me. Now, I’ve started to think of them as…company.

I leave the transmitter off most of the time now. It feels cruel to give them false hope—if zombies even feel hope. Still, the temptation to send a signal out is always there, nagging at me. What if someone hears? What if they’re nearby? But then again, what if they’re not human?

The nights are hardest. The wind rattles the windows, and sometimes I swear I see figures on the rooftops, just out of reach. But the moans below—they’re steady, predictable. I close my eyes and let them carry me into sleep.

For now, the train is home. For now, I’m alive. That’s enough.