Chapter Text
As I jolted up into a sitting position, I was gasping. My back was wet and so was my shirt. All I could hear was my rapid heartbeat, hammering against my ribcage. Damn it. Another nightmare.
I stood up, slowly due to how dizzy I was suddenly feeling. I steadied myself with a hand on my small nightstand, holding several half empty water bottles. Waking up in a cold sweat was never nice. Not to me at least.
I not-so-speedily changed into another shirt, tossing the other one aside. It lands in a pile of other dirty clothes that I had yet to wash and fold once more. Laundry was something else I hated. Didn’t we all? If only clothes never smelled, never had to be washed. Like us. What if we self cleaned like machines?
“You lazy pile of dirt…” I mumble to no-one in particular. Maybe except myself.
My thoughts and mind go blank when I hear banging at the door. It’s 4am, the only person who knocks on my door is the mailman.
I was friends with him you could say. Everyday it was the same thing in the same white envelope. Bills. Bills. More bills. I had yet to pay them.
It would sound selfish if I said I didn’t care about them and only myself and current state, I know, but it’s true.
Again, knocking- no, it’s a loud banging, pulls me from my thoughts again.
“Just get the door and tell ‘em to leave.” I grumble, running a hand through the matte and messy black hair on my head. As best as I can, I smooth it down, fixed my pajama pants and sighed. I left my room, trying my best not to trudge to the front door.
“Coming!” I shout, hearing the third round of banging. It confuses me. The person is banging on my door, but not screaming at me to open it?
My hand twists the cold, brass doorknob and I open it.
“Hel– Christ!” something pushes at my chest, I’m thrown off balance, and land hard on my ass.
It claws at my upper arms, nearly ripping the fabric of my shirt.
Now, getting a rip in my shirt is the last of my worries. I needed to get this person off of me.
But when I started to struggle and went to grab their face, I found out it wasn’t a person.
Their face is bumpy, something is stabbing into my palm. Was this bone?
“Grrrraahhh!!” it groaned, eyes flicking up to look at me. It seemed to make a gurgling sound while it groaned and moaned in its mindless state. My eyes went wider by the second. I needed to hit them, but it couldn’t be with my hands.
What kind of sick joke is this?
Grabbing the nearest thing, which I found out was a shard of glass from a broken vase, I stabbed them in the temple.
They cried out again, clawing my arms. I yelled at them to get the hell away from me, but life was fading from their eyes.
They turned a sickly green color, blue eyes rolling up and tongue drooping like a panting dog. I let go of the shard, letting it stay in that person’s head. Blood started to collect on my hand. It wasn’t a crimson red.
It was orange. Bright, glowing orange.
“W-what the fuck?” I mutter. I couldn’t process any of this quick enough.
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“Th-this c-c-a-an’t be r-real.” I whisper, eyes flicking from the TV to the clock on the wall.
A zombie apocalypse was always cool in movies but in real life? I think I just pissed myself.
Again, I turn my attention away from the TV, walking over to a calendar and looking at the bookmarked and current month.
Please let it be April 1st. I quietly whined, seeing as it was December 9th. Snow was on the ground, and New Year’s was approaching.
“Now, uh, Scott has gotten a very detailed description of these what scientists and civilians are calling “Zombies”.” I turn my head and listen intently to the woman speaking.
“Infected people will have very pale green skin and blue eyes, sometimes brown or light yellow. Their skin is deteriorated and their blood is not red, but bright orange. They are stronger and smarter than they appear. Approach with caution but if you must. It’s best to stay away, though. Back to you, Jill.”
Just your typical zombie. Nothing to worry about. While I decided to grab my largest book bag and start stuffing supplies in it, I listened to the news reporters.
“Hello there, Scott Hythin here, we have already classified several of these undead monsters into different categories. The first one can be called a ‘Grabber’ or ‘Swinger’. Now, this means the obvious. They swing their arms as they walk to grab or touch anything around them. Same thing, different name. Next is the ‘Seeker’. They are mostly silent and prefer to sneak up on their victims. The third is called a…uh, ‘Pacer’. The most dangerous. They run fast, they’re quiet, strong, resilient and have amazing vision. We are all trying to find a cure, before it all goes to murder and mayhem. Thank you, now to Johnath– AHH-!”
Static is heard and my eyes dart to the television. What happened? I drop my bag and go over to it.
Every channel is static or is having ‘Technical Difficulties’.
I shake my head, the worry mostly leaving my mind. Now was no time to be scared.
Food, plenty of extra clothes, one or two reminders of my family, and two hatchets are grabbed.
Now was no time to be scared.