Have finished another story, inspired by the time I had to pet-sit my sister's chickens. (Never, ever, ever again.)
One of them died, on the second day no less, so I buried it under the lawn and went inside, foolishly, to watch horror films. Some hours later, at the dead of night, I'm lying awake in an empty house listening to the wind roar outside and imagining the chicken digging its way out of the ground for revenge. Went out in my nightdress to roll a great heavy pot plant over the grave and scampered back to bed, locking all the doors behind me.
Ever since I've wondered about a story on zombie chickens.