The sun peeked through the curtains, shining on Walten's face, burning his eyes just a little. Getting up, he carefully moved the curtains out of the way, the sunlight lighting up his dark room. The sky was beautiful, still very hazy but better than he imagined. Walten stood up on his feet, grabbing his jacket to cover himself up. Opening the door to his kitchen, Biscuit was already up, chewing on the stool he had to fix last week. Walten sighed, accepting the fact that he isn't fixing that stool again. Walten opened the blinds, letting more sunlight brighten up his apartment. Looking around outside, he saw ten times more bodies than yesterday on the streets. He groaned, knowing that he was going to be the one cleaning up after the little shits. Walten grabbed his stuff from his closet, with his rifle and a few smoke bombs included, "Come on Biscuit, time to go get breakfast." he said, Biscuit's ears perked up as he struggled to get up on his feet with an excited smile. Walten picked him up and put him back in the harness, opening the door and making his way downstairs. Biscuit obviously decided to chew on Walten's hair, which he was aware of but didn't care about. Moving the stuff he used to barricade the door out of the way, he walked outside while he put his goggles on, including Biscuits. Wind blew in his face as he tried to walk to the nearby diner. Struggling to get past the bodies, he held Biscuit close to make sure he didn't fall out. After a while, he made it, swinging the door open to get inside. He sighed in relief after he managed to get it closed. Biscuit squirmed out of his arms and ran to the kitchen at the back of the store. Walten locked the door with a key he kept, walked over the power generator he installed, and used it to turn on the lights in the kitchen. Setting his stuff down and taking off his jacket due to how hot it gets back there. He walks into the kitchen and starts up the stove, getting stuff ready to make themselves breakfast. He wasn't good at cooking, but Biscuit enjoyed it.
A few minutes passed and Walten managed to at least get some food ready for him and his little guy. He took the burnt half while Biscuit had the decently cooked half. Walten made more for him since they didn't have access to food the past few days, so he wanted him to at least get a good meal. He made him eggs with a few tiny pancakes so he could keep the leftover mix for another day. While Walten just had burnt crispy bread. Due to being vegan, he opted out of eating eggs obviously, while the pancakes were the only other food that survived his cooking skills, he just gave it Biscuit. After he finished his food, he got up and walked back to the kitchen to clean up. He put too much effort into a place that's been abandoned for who knows how long. He was still proud of himself for managing to keep this place running just for himself. Even though he knew that he was slowly losing his sanity, doing this every single fucking day. He was fine. Just fine. Walten's eye twitched a little as he gripped onto his gun. Walten stopped to breathe in, holding his breath for a second, then breathing out. He turned around and walked back over Biscuit who had just finished his food. Walten smiled as he picked his little guy up, giving him a small hug, Biscuit squealed with joy. Putting on his stuff, he turned off the power and placed Biscuit in his harness once again. Putting his goggles on, plus Biscuit's, he opened the door as he adjusted his sleeves. Completely oblivious that someone might be watching him from a distance. He headed back to the apartment.
3 in the morning, Ron sat at his kitchen table, barely able to sleep, thinking about what he did the previous day. He couldn't believe that he let himself snap at his boss. Fidgeting with his mug, his eyes burned, but he knew that if he managed to get a sliver of sleep in, he'd be late and killed. Oblivious to the fact he was biting his lip, he suddenly broke his skin, bleeding a bit down his chin. He realized it once he got it on his fingers. Quickly rushing over to his bathroom, he cleaned his hands under the sink while grabbing some tissue to cover his lip. All of sudden he heard his door open. His ears perked, as he heard footsteps in the kitchen. He panicked and opened his cupboard, looking for something to defend himself. All he had was a brush. Scissors would've been better but they were never provided with any. Grabbing the brush he looked outside of the door to see the shadow of the people that broke in. He peeked from behind the wall, to see two what he thought were kids that looked like potatoes, searching around the room. Ron judged silently. He stepped out of the bathroom, "I don't know who you assholes are but I think you need to head back to kindergarten." he said, pointing towards them. The two potato looking children turned around and stared at him, their faces honestly too cute to be real. Speechless, Ron pushed them towards the door, "Get out." he growled. Noticing something weird with them, he was even more concerned when he spotted scribbled numbers on their heads, looking like a toddler trying its best to do math. Already feeling like he was in a fever dream, he shoved them out the door, deciding he was going to give up and try to sleep but the door suddenly swung right back open to see a bigger one standing at the door. Ron yelped and threw his brush at it right in the face, not doing anything to it. The thing grabbed him and threw him across the room. Ron struck his head against the wall, causing him to pass out.
Gasping for air, Ron woke up sweating. He touched the back of his head, for it to feel perfectly fine. Sighing with relief he laid back down, "It was just a fever dream..." he said, resting his hands over his forehead, closing his eyes slightly. Ron's eyes shot back open as soon as he realized he was actually comfortable. He looked around and noticed that he wasn't even in his room. The room was fancy and modern, painted white with black shiny tile for the floor, a fuzzy white rug under the bed. The bed was humongous, with nice clean white sheets, they even smelled like lavender. A translucent curtain hung from the ceiling, around the bed. He got off of the bed, feeling different than usual, he moved the curtains and noticed a bathroom of his own not far. He walked inside to see a nice big bath with a mirror not too far, he walked over to see himself which he didn't even recognize. His hair was cut pretty short, he kind of liked it. All the dirt and oil was off of his face and fur, he touched his fur, it felt softer than usual. He then looked at his clothes, very clean, the shirt was big which he liked but the shorts, way too fucking short, made him want to vomit. Ron walked out of the bathroom and noticed a dress shirt, pants, and tie on a desk with a note placed on top. He grabbed them, not even bothering to look at the note and changed into them. Placing the other clothes onto the bed, not really sure what to do with them. His ears perked once he heard the sound of glass shattering outside of the door. Confused, Ron opened the door to hear more glass shattering. He walked out into a hallway, with weird paintings, being abstract and overwhelming. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE YOURSELVES OBVIOUS!!" a voice shouted, Ron walked down the hallway carefully, as more glass shattered once more. "CLEARLY YOU GUYS CAN'T DO SHIT!!" the voice hollered, Ron looked over to whoever was losing their shit to see his boss. Without his big jacket and jewelry, throwing vases onto the floor. Horrified at what he was witnessing, Ron stepped back a little before his boss grabbed onto a big pot, turning around and locking eye contact with him. His eyes widened as he dropped the vase behind him, staring at Ron in shock. Ron had a disgusted look on his face, judging him. He panicked as he kicked the potato things from before out the door, laughing nervously "Heyyy." he said, slamming the door behind him. He smoothed his hair, while checking himself in a mirror. Ron, still judging, tried to walk away, but he noticed him at the corner of his eye, "WAIT." he shouted, Ron looked at him but was instantly slammed against the wall by him, "Hey baby." he purred, trying to be sexy. Ron screamed and smacked him across the face, causing the other to yelp "Okay! That did not work!" he shouted, "You think!?" Ron screamed. He groaned, pissed off that his plan didn't work, "Okay plan B," he said to himself, running his fingers through his hair, "I'm Dipsy," he smirked, " and I wanted to hire you as my new assistant.". Ron looked at him confused, Dipsy grabbed him by the hand and led him to his work desk in another room. Decorated with more paintings and a gold chandelier hanging over his desk. Dipsy sat him down on a chair in front of his desk, sitting on the other side, "I found records of your past jobs, saying you've been a good colleague in the work environment." he said showing him a folder with everything about him, "Where did you get this?" he asked, as he noticed a picture of himself years ago, before everything went to shit. "Don't ask me." Dipsy said, lighting a cigarette, Ron looked at him, noticing a bottle of lotion with a box of tissues, sitting on his desk. "What are those for?" he asked, Dipsy looked at it and quickly threw it in the fireplace next to them, lighting it as fast as he could. Confused, Ron just ignores it due to the day he's already had. Dipsy sighs in relief after getting the fire started, "As I was saying, I think you'd be a suitable assistant." he smiled, sitting back down. "You'll do whatever I say, and maybe I'll listen to you." he grinned, Ron didn't trust him but knew that if he did this, maybe he could change Dipsy's mindset about the work environment. He rested his back a little "Sure. I'll do it.", not sure what was to come. His face turned red with an even bigger smile, "Good, we'll start tomorrow morning, you should rest up." he said, with a sinister tone. Ron got up, "Okay... See you." he said, walking over to the door, "Close the door behind you when you leave." Dipsy smiled. Ron scoffed "Whatever you say boss.", making Dipsy slam his fist into his desk after he closed the door. Ron walked to his room and closed the door quietly, before falling over onto his knees, "What the fuck!?" he shouted, questioning everything that had just happened, "The fuck is wrong with this guy!?".
