We'll Meet Again...

Real Zombies This Time

Warnings: gorey? violence, mention of scars, fear, distress, throw up mention, unreality

Word count: 1460

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After a nausea-inducing dream, where Bill reveals he's my father, I wake up and frantically look for my mom's diary, finding it under my pillow, clutching it tightly to me. I still feel like I'm being watched as the hairs on the ends of my arms stick up. My stomach turns in a way that makes me get up and race to the bathroom.

I barrel down the hallway past Dipper and Mabel, who just woke up. I beat them inside, lock the door and throw up. After that, a bit of relief washes over me. I think I'm okay now. Flushing the toilet, I wash my hands, cupping them to drink some water in order to get the taste out of my mouth. I wonder if Bill got me sick.

Looking up in the mirror, I panic. No no no! My eyes! I hear a knock on the door and my grandpa asks, "You okay in there, sweetie?"

Splashing my face a little, hoping it would go away, I respond, "I threw up! Don't come in!"

I can hear him whisper something to Dipper and him respond in a murmur but I can't tell what they are saying. I look back in the mirror, seeing my eyes slowly fade to normal. Sighing in relief, I open the door. "Yikes kiddo. You look a little green," my grandpa says as soon as he sees me.

"Yeah, I know," I sigh, going back to my room to lie down. Mabel waits in my doorway, sad. "You're sick? You can't be sick! The party, and- and karaoke! And- I had the perfect song chosen for the two of us!" she rambled as if I personally chose today to get sick.

Grandpa pulls her out of room, giving her a stern look. "Mabel, leave her alone," he tells her. She sulks into another room. "So, probably not going to the party, huh?" my grandpa asks.

"Not unless I feel better," I respond. He nods, keeping his distance, probably not to get sick as well, which is understandable.

"Well, uh. Feel better. If you're hungry, lemme know and um. Yeah, bye," he says, leaving, closing the door behind him. He never really handles sick people well. One time, Toby Determined threw up right in the Mystery Shack and my grandpa ended up running to the other side of town. He didn't return for a few days until he was sure it was cleaned up.

Bored and alone, I read through the entirety of my mom's diary, feeling like shit after. I now see my mom in a different light and I do not like it. I shove the diary under my bed, far up against the wall so I won't be tempted to get it.

Frustrated at Bill, I flop onto my bed and pick up a book. It's something I was supposed to read over the summer, then we talk about it when school starts again in several months. Frankly, I haven't even touched it. It's just sat on my nightstand, waiting for the day I get incredible bored.

And today is that day.

I managed to get halfway through when I heard loud party music. The party must have started. I'm slightly less sick, so I get out of my pajamas and into an actual pair of clothes, sleeves long enough to cover my scars. I tip toe out of my room, immediately realizing that was stupid and walking normally to where the party is.

Unfortunatly, I immediatly run into Robbie. Like, run into him. "Watch where you're going!" he huffed, pushing me out of his way. He's got his guitar slinged onto his shoulder and he looks even more mad than normal.

I glare at him. "Dude, what's got you all upset?" I ask, hoping I can get him to apologize for being a jerk.

"None of your beeswax, shortstack," he glares back.

"You have an inch on me! I am not short," I huff, "And if Wendy rejected you for the hundredth time, you need to chill. She doesn't like you like that anymore. Go date other girls."

"God, why do you have to be so annoying," he rolls his eyes. I honestly don't know what I did. "Maybe shut up and realize that not every girl likes me," he growls pointedly. Now that can't be true. There's always someone for everybody, if they want someone, that is.

"Maybe quit being a dickhead to everyone," I suggest, which only makes him more mad. He kicks a red solo cup that was on the ground and it hits someone in the head.

"Maybe I don't even like Wendy all that much and I just dated her to get over someone else, but that backfired and now I can't really get over Wendy," Robbie rambled.

"What?" I ask, tilting my head towards him, but he left quicker than I could react. What does that even mean? Before I could even process that information, my grandpa walks up to me.

"Hey kiddo, feeling any better?" he asks me, putting an arm around my shoulder.

"Honestly, not really. I might go back to my room," I tell him.

"You do that, huh? Get some rest," he grins, going over to talk to Lazy Susan. Honestly, I am a bit tired, and I wonder if Bill will leave me alone tonight. As I head to my room, halfway down the hallway, I feel a rumble under my feet.

An earthquake? I hear screaming outside and various people yelling randoms things. It sounds like chaos. I race to my room and look out the window where the commotion seems to be coming from outside. A whole hoard of... zombies are chasing people? Holy shit, is this real?

I hide in my closet behind dresses I never wear and a winter coat. Closing the closet door, I hold my breath. I can hear them breaking into the Shack. I wonder where my family is and if the zombies will find me first.

The door to my room bursts open and two zombies bumble in, tripping over their own limbs. They look around, trying to spy any living being but failing in the end. I check my watch and it reads about midnight. 

The zombies leave when they can't find anything. Immediatly as soon as they leave, I remember a bat filled with rusty nails that I had found in the woods a year ago. I wonder if it's still there...

Quietly, I sneak out the window, hiding behind a car once I see a lone roaming zombie. Once it passes, I sprint into the woods in the direction I had saw the bat. I hope it is still there, for my family's sake.

Running out of breath, I make it to the secluded spot where, lo and behold, there it is! I pick it, careful not to cut myself on any of the nails. I don't need tetnis on top of a zombie apocalypse. Slowly, breathing in and out, I make my way back to the Shack.

I swing at a few zombies, their skulls bashing open as brains fall out onto the grass. "That's disgusting..." I mutter, wiping some weird, green liquid off my leg.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I swing, only to find it's my grandpa. I'm glad I missed, because he'd be dead. "Woah!" he exclaimed, moving out of the way. "Someone's ready for the apocalypse," he joked, "But for real though, you okay?" He punches a zombie with his brass knuckles.

"Yeah," I grin, whacking another zombie with the bat.

"Got a real swing there, kiddo," he tells me and ushers me inside. "Go hide," he says while punching another zombie.

"But-" I protest.

"Go. Hide," he glares, not taking any shit. Reluctantly, I smash zombies heads on my way back to my room, slide into my closet and sit quietly, clutching the bat. I guess I had nodded off, because it was soon morning and it was eerily quiet. 

Holding on tight to the bat embedded with nails, I leave my room. Several zombies lay on the floor, brains exploded, splattered all over the walls and carpet. Totally imobilized.

"Grandpa?" I call out. No answer, so I head outside where Dipper and Mabel were trying to wrangle a zombie Soos.

"Hey sweetie. Glad to see ya," grandpa grinned at me. It's as if the atmosphere changed and I woke up in a new reality. "We're currently trying to cure Soos' zombification. It's proven... taxing to say the least."

"Stand still!" Mabel yells at Soos as they try to tilt a glass of some weird liquid down his throat.

I smile a little, just glad the apocalypse has moved on. But something is still eating at me... Why doesn't this feel real? Maybe I'm just tired right now, or still pumped up with adrenaline, but I feel a strange urge. And I don't like it.

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A/N: Gonna explore those Cipheric trances next chapter