I Guess I Should Explain The Dead Guy

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Ah, yes. I should explain the dead guy. Both of them, in fact.

These are the zombies of Manhattan. It has to be specifically Manhattan, because Manhattan schist and all that, but let's not get into that just yet.

There are many zombies that look and act just like you and me. They wear makeup and have jobs and sleep just like us. But they don't breathe. Or feel pain. Or anything much like us when it comes to living bodies.

There are three levels of zombie-fiedness. Level ones, which are closest to you and I. The want to live very normal lives. Aside from the fact that they're dead. Level ones, which have no soul and it means they feel no pain or emotion. They're evil and they like to harm people.

Then there are level threes. These are the closest to the movie monsters you've seen on TV shows and stuff. They can talk (barely) they have some emotion (usually hatred) and like attacking people (and have really bad teeth). Seriously, if they would stop trying to attack us every once in a while, I'd recommend them to a good dentist.

Do all people turn into zombies when they die, you may be asking? No. It just depends if they die in Manhattan, or near schist, which is located in Manhattan. Schist is like the thing that keeps them alive. It's like krypton to Superman. Or...Do I have that mixed up? I don't know much about superheros to be honest.

Of course, there's the whole Dead City beneath us and the mayor and all that stuff, but I don't want to overwhelm you just yet.

So, the first dead body Gilbert and I were taking care of just so happened to be a level three that showed up while I was taking the Browns to the Super Bowl.

If a zombie catches you sitting on the toilet with your pants down reading a stolen copy of Skymall Magazine and you don't freak out, you know your life is very weird. And messed up.

So the  first thing I did, naturally, was smack him on the top of the head with a rolled up magazine while calling out Gilbert's name. Gilbert was here with me, which was great, because I don't think I could attack one of the undead while trying to do private business.

Then Gilbert grabbed him by his ankles, dragged him out, and I assume he used epic ninja skills or something to finish him off while I continued to use the bathroom in peace.

While we were taking care of the dead body (note; it smells really, really bad) another dead guy decided to walk in.

This was another level three I've already managed to piss off before, so naturally, he had a job  he wanted to finish. And the grudge he held towards me might or might not involve tossing his body into a trash compactor.

You're probably way confused now. I guess I should start from ever since I got into MIST.

Actually, I think I should start from the beginning.

Sixteen years ago, a young British baby was exported cruelly from the safe womb of his mother into the dark exile known as life-

Oh, wait, not THAT beginning.

Huh.

How about two summers ago?

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Two summers ago, my mom died. I was a loser at  middle school with nobody to talk to, not even my brothers, because they didn't even go to a normal high school. No, they went to the Metropolitan Institute of Science and Technology, or MIST, for short.

I was a freak, even by my family's standards. I hung out at a morgue for fun (to be fair, my mom was a medical examiner who looked at dead bodies to determine causes of death) and my best friend was a doctor who also examined dead bodies. Except he was being payed to do that, and me? I was just there because I liked the place.

Well, I didn't like it at first. It freaked me out, all those dead, smelly bodies, but my mom loved the place. She was like me--not very good with communicating, not a really social person. A good thing about the dead is that they usually don't try to strike a conversation, so it's great to be around them.

So, I hung out at the morgue for fun, I read a lot, played computer games, was socially awkward, blah blah blah, cliche nerdy kid outcast stuff.

My mom died of breast cancer and I made it my personal goal to be like her, which was something I've always tried to do. Apply to MIST, the school she went to. It's a great institute for science and stuff, which is exactly what both of my parents love. When I say institute, it kind of sounds like mental institute...Eh. I'm used to it.

So, I hung around corpses, and I thought I was the only one.

Until I met Elizabeta (and later Gilbert).

She's a really cool and really pretty girls that makes me feel even more like a loser, but she managed to befriend me, which was exciting, to say the least. I mean come on, I actually made a friend on my own! Even though making that friend involved a lot of conversations starting with, "So, it appears Mr. John Doe (insert gruesome way of dying here)".

I thought that the friendship with Elizabeta would be a great one and that we would read books and talk about annoying kids and stuff, because she got just as frustrated by other people as me, but no.

Well, it was all that, but that friendship also led to me fighting living cadavers every other Tuesday and have top-secret zombie-fighting training.

You know, normal.

Well, at least, I wish it was normal....

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Yolo! That's the official first chapter! Super cool, right? Or nah?

And by the way, I'm open to PM's! I like making friends. And if you give me cookies, we'll be BFFL's....

XD

-Omega_Romanian_Shiz

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