The Newsreader

Hi everyone, I have some more creative writing to share! This a continuation of my work in progress in the form of an introduction to one of the main characters in what could be a zombie novel or novella. I’m quite keen on his story though, so who knows, it may end up just following him. It’s a bit unusual for me to focus on an unlikeable character as the main narrator – not that he’s a villain, but you’ll see what I mean. 😉

Tom killed just one zombie when his workplace was attacked – his colleague Joanna. Another colleague, Simon killed two zombies before he died. His workplace is now relatively safe, although Tom has no idea that there are still zombies in the TV network building…

Taking refuge in his workplace, Tom Knight records a message, transmitted on repeat to the nation.

Tom had cheated on his wife with a colleague in the months before the zombie outbreak. Just before the outbreak, his wife Alice took their child Sophie and left without telling him where they were going. He already tried to ring his In-laws, but had no answer both before and after the outbreak. Now he holds out hope that his wife and daughter are still alive, but he has been too scared to attempt to look for them so far. Will he find the courage to sacrifice his own safety to try and find his family?

As always, comments are very welcome. Hope you enjoy it!


Tom Knight – The Newsreader

Alice Knight, please, if you’re listening – come back to me. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know where you are. I just want – no – I *need* to know that you and Sophie are alright. I understand why you left, but things are different now. I promise I will never hurt you again. Just come back to me. Please. Please be okay. I love you both.

He stops and gets up, not wanting to cry on camera to the nation. Then a while later he is back. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

To anyone else – you might just be watching this out of curiosity, to see if there’s still TV out there. Well, there sort of is. I’ll play this message on a loop so maybe everyone will see it. Actually, probably not everyone, because most of my audience is dead…

Anyway, I’ll be honest, I don’t actually really have anything to tell you that you don’t already know.

I mean basically we’re fucked. Eventually one of those things will find its way in here and kill me but until then, what am I living on? Snacks from the Green Room.

I hope wherever you are is safe and has food. I don’t think going to a supermarket would be the best idea but if you’re brave or stupid enough to risk your life for food then go for it champ. But seriously, you do have to think about food. Those bastards clearly do. You have to find a shelter that has food.

I should tell you as well, if you don’t know already, that it seems like the only way to kill these fuckers seems to be by getting them in the head. I don’t know why, okay? I don’t understand any of this. If you’re turning on the news hoping for an explanation then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. We certainly had no warning.

And there will likely be no messages from any government figure unless they are somehow alive and willing to wake their way through the dead infested London to come to the studio. Wipe your fucking feet when you come in, won’t you?! Yeah, this place is safe because I managed to make it safe.

Oh fuck, how is Alice meant to get here? And I can’t get to her. Shit!

He takes a long gulp of vodka, scrunching up his face at the taste. He then stops to look down the left side of his desk for a few seconds.

Hey, you know what just crossed my mind as I was just looking down at the body of my colleague Joanna which I haven’t moved yet? – What if we could eat them? I don’t want to eat her, obviously, but I have only so much food left, that’s it like, what else am I supposed to fucking do? But I just wonder if eating her would infect me with whatever fucking thing it is she had that caused her to bite Simon and then try to bite me.

I can’t help but think though, haven’t we all wondered what human flesh tasted like at some point? I heard it’s like Pork.

Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I’m off my head. It is nice talking to a camera again, though. I guess it’s what I was born to do.

Sorry, that’s also ridiculous. I can feel myself sounding even crazier. No, hear myself…Ah fucking hell.

He has another drink of vodka.

Anyway, I probably won’t have a bite of Joanna until I’m really desperate. Although Simon or someone would probably be fresher. God, what am I saying?!

You know what, to everyone out there: I’m sorry this broadcast was useless and confusing and unhinged. But I am not a hero, okay? I cheated on my wife. I let down my little girl. And now I’m sitting here contemplating eating someone I used to work with.

So yes…I’m very sorry. We will probably never meet, but I hope you can forgive me. And the best of fucking luck to you all. Try not to fucking die.


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