Chapter Text
What am I doing with my life?
I’m so pale, I should get out more
My posture is terrible, I should stand up straighter
People would respect me more if I stood up straighter
What’s wrong with me? I just want to connect
Why can’t I connect with people?
Oh right, it’s because I’m dead
A young man with curly brown hair thinks while he walks inside a now run-down abandoned airport with other zombies walking past him, groaning and sometimes bumping shoulders with him.
Ever since he turned, he has spent his first days wandering around aimlessly with a new appetite for human flesh, confused as to who he is and what his purpose is, until he came across an airport. Coming closer to the airport, he saw a lot of "people" shuffling around both inside and outside and thought to himself they could probably help him figure this out…and they kind of did.
He soon realized the airport was infested with zombies, and he was like them.
Dead.
And how he died; he didn't know, or he simply doesn't remember how.
As he walks, his curly hair sticks all over the place, as he no longer remembers how to comb his hair or how to maintain proper hygiene overall. His skin, once an olive color, is now this ashy olive-gray color. His skin was not the only thing that changed about him as the appearance of his eyes got replaced with this deathly light gray color with dark circles underneath his eyes, making him look like he needed a vacation or a long slumber. He has scars on different parts of his face from the times humans have fought back against him, the noticeable ones being on his left eyebrow, one of his cheeks, his nose, and the right side of his mouth, along with harsh blue veins crawling up his neck.
He’s wearing a white and red long-sleeved shirt with the name of a sports team named “Mannington'' on it, worn out and stained with blood, along with blue jeans with the left side being ripped below his knee, revealing his bite mark that had healed over time, leaving a scar of the bite mark. He’s wearing white sneakers that no longer look white as it has been dirtied over and over again, along with faint blood stains, not a great choice of shoes for the apocalypse, especially if you're a zombie.
I shouldn’t be so hard on myself…I mean, we’re all dead
This girl is dead, that guy’s dead, and that guy in the corner is definitely dead
Jesus, these guys look awful…But I shouldn’t talk as I look awful myself….
I wish I could introduce myself, but I don’t remember my name anymore
I believe it started with an “N,” but that’s all I have left
I can’t remember my name, my parents, or my job
Although my clothes would suggest I was unemployed or used to be a college student
N arrives at the security checkpoint of the airport with the now-dead security guard standing near the TSA machine, holding a body scanner.
N walks through the TSA machine as the guard lifts the body scanner and scans him, almost like a reflex he remembers from his former human life, and stares at N as he goes until he's out of sight.
Sometimes I look at the others and try to guess what they were before everything went to shit almost like a game of sorts
N shifts his eyes to a male zombie that looks older than him, wearing what looks like a janitor’s outfit, standing in the middle of the hallway, staring into space while he holds a mop in place.
You were a janitor
His eyes shift to another male zombie with dirty blonde hair that looks younger than him, maybe mid-teens? Wearing what looks like fancy clothes that were once cleaned and are now dirtied and stained. The young teen lies on the baggage reclaim carousel as it spins, spaced out, not moving an inch.
You were the rich son of a corporate CEO
Lastly, his eyes shift to a female zombie who looks like she’s in her mid-20s, wearing stained and dirty gym clothes. She’s standing against the wall, staring ahead through a large glass window.
You were a personal trainer
The female zombie shifts her gaze and hisses while she smacks her hands against the glass window.
And now you’re a corpse
N reaches a part of the airport that still has functional working escalators and takes a step, making his way up. To him, this working escalator feels like a piece of memory of what life used to be before...well...before he and the other zombies interfered and ruined everything.
I have a hard time piecing together how this whole apocalypse thing happened
Could have been chemical warfare or an airborne virus, or a radioactive outbreak monkey almost like that one movie I remember
But it doesn’t really matter as to this is what we are now
He steps off the escalator and walks into another part of the airport that is the infamous waiting area all airports have, with rows of seats and fake trees mostly in every corner, making the atmosphere appear more pleasing before the outbreak. What once was a waiting area full of humans waiting for their flight to take off is now infested with zombies, broken glass everywhere, and flickering television screens that used to show departure and arrival times and whether a flight was canceled or not.
N sometimes comes here to either walk around or stare at the television screens. The flickering of the television screens makes him think about the television coming to “life”, something he wishes could happen to him.
This is a typical day for me
I shuffle around, occasionally bumping into people, unable to apologize or say much of anything
He looks around as he imagines himself in a scenario where it’s Christmas time. Holiday music is heard in every corner of the airport, Christmas decorations and lights are dangling from the ceiling or on the walls, and everyone looks healthy and alive without worrying about an apocalypse or bloodthirsty zombies.
It must have been so much better before when everyone could express themselves and communicate their feelings and enjoy each other’s company
This is what he believes, as everyone in his vision is seen to be distracted by technology to not notice one another. The music in his scenario starts to become distorted until it dies down, everything fades back to his gray landscape.
A lot of us have made our home here at this airport
I mean, we don’t need shelter anymore.... as we're kind of immune to everything but I guess we like having a roof over our heads, making us feel somewhat human
Then again, people used to wait at airports but I’m not sure what we’re all waiting for
He enters another baggage pickup area; this area is completely dark but not too dark, as it’s dimmed with flickering lights and more zombies shuffling around. He hears a screech and turns to his right to see a trio of skinny skeleton-like zombies, two crouching down and one standing up.
Oh man, they call these guys Boneys
They don’t bother us much but they’re still assholes and eat anything with a heartbeat
I mean, I will too but at least I’m conflicted about it
We all become them someday
At some point, you just give up
You lose all hope and after that, there's no turning back
I kind of hope I die before that could happen to me
He notices a male zombie, who looks quite older than N, sitting on the ground, looking somber with his inner skeleton visible through his skin, looking like he hasn't eaten in days. It seems like the male zombie felt an itch or something because he lifts his hand near his mouth and starts pulling his skin to the point where it slowly starts peeling, causing N to make a face.
Oh man, gross
The male zombie then peels his skin more stretching it across his mouth, causing N to make an even more disgusted face.
Stop. Stop, STOP! don’t pick at it! You’re making it worse! what happened to leaving your scabs alone!?…. if you can even call it that
The male zombie peels his skin completely off, revealing a dark, decomposing skeletal mouth underneath. The male zombie looks briefly at the dead skin in his hands, which used to be his "normal" mouth, and then looks back at him, making N quickly look away.
Oh god, this is what I have to look forward to
It’s a bit of a bummer
I wish I could unsee that
N now approaches an area that's closer to the walkway where former passengers used to walk in and out of planes.
He steps onto the travelator that's located there and moves across.
The first time he came across it, he was amazed by the machine as it was similar to an escalator, but instead of having steps to go up, it just moves you across, not having to walk and rest your feet for a bit.
I don’t want to be this way
I’m lonely, I’m lost
I mean, I’m literally lost
I’ve never been to this part of the airport before
He looks to his left and sees two zombie kids traveling in the travelator next to him that goes in the opposite direction from his.
The two zombie kids are a girl and a boy. The girl had short blond hair and wore a white long-sleeved shirt with a checkered dress over it. The boy had short black hair and wore a jacket that resembled a varsity one and a simple shirt and pants.
Wonder if these guys are lost, too
Wandering around, but never going anywhere
The two zombie kids notice him and look at him on their left, staring at one another until they move slightly away from each other.
Do they feel trapped? Do they want more than this?
Am I the only one?
Once the travelator ends, he gets off it and starts making his way outside into the runways where his plane home and any other abandoned planes are located.
When N first arrived at the airport, he felt the need for a home. He didn’t know why, but deep down, he had this sensation that he needed one badly and started looking. He searched and searched for an area in the airport to make his own until he one day walked to the runways and saw the abandoned planes. Not being picky about things anymore, he went to a random plane and made it his home.
He walks up the stairs to his plane and opens the main door. He walks down the aisle to the back section of his plane, filled with piles and boxes of interesting items he has collected during his hunting trips. He stops at his record player, which is the best one he has collected so far, and turns it on as he has already left a vinyl on.
“Missing You” by John Waite plays.
He sits down on one of the seats he has unoccupied up front and listens.