To The Stars Above Us |𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘬 (ENG)

Chapter 1: The Zombie On The Box

The slope was steep, and with my tired legs, I hauled myself up the road. The density of the trees around me blocked my view of my destination, but that didn't slow me down; I hadn't traveled all this time for nothing and I was not ready to give up now. With one last sigh, I reached the top of the hill. Out of breath, the cold from the snow prickled my bare legs as my gaze fell on a sign in front of me. "South Park," it read, and as I swept my gaze over the horizon, the landscape of a small town came into my field of vision. All I had to do was descend the path in front of me, I motivated myself, as the vision of a warm bed urged me forward. Soon, I found myself descending the slope and before I knew it, the beginnings of the town reached out to me.

Everything was calm here, modest houses adorned the streets while peacefully, young families walking about everywhere. If one ignored the grayish color of their skin, one might almost think that we were not in the midst of a zombie apocalypse.

Ignoring this thought, I advanced down the street, putting my hands in my pockets as I did my best to ignore the significant weight on my shoulders due to my travel bag. I tried to blend in as best I could, which seemed to work wonderfully. It wasn't really surprising, despite my significant height, it was true that my physique and dark hair always seemed to keep me out of the public eye, which suited me well especially when I found myself in this kind of unknown small town. One had to really look closely to see that I didn't belong here, maybe the few traces of dirt still on my face might have exposed my wanderer's identity, but people hardly ever looked at me, which suited my persona well.

As I glanced over the shop windows, I caught my reflection in a mirror for a second and lazily tried to comb my hair. Then, after deeming I had spent enough time wandering around, I took a seat on a solitary bench in the middle of a square. From my canvas bag, seeming to fall apart under my fingers, I pulled out a sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil, and exposing the food, I took a bite, the taste of the cheese melting against my palate.

But just as my sore muscles seemed to finally find some rest, high-pitched voices caught my attention.

"Didn't you hear?" simmered three teenagers on a bench next to me as snippets of their conversation reached my ears.

"You know, they say the server at Tweek's Bros is really weird."

"It's not the server! He owns the cafe!"

"Really? Oh!"

"Yes! And no one has ever seen what he looks like since he never shows himself."

"Really? So weird," giggled the teenager, but soon the thread of their conversation became uninteresting to me, and I hurried to finish my sandwich. A coffee shop, they said? That seemed like the perfect thing to fill my stomach. Thus, with determined steps, I got back on my feet, starting my search as I advanced down a random alley.

Gradually, my tired steps led me through the town while boredom took over, so I placed my old wired earphones in my ears, soon assaulted by the loud sound of an electric guitar hitting my hearing. Mumbling rock lyrics into my beard and occasionally tapping my foot in rhythm with my playlist, I saw myself slowly crossing the streets, the pain in my sore feet gradually fading.

I missed the touch of my guitar, which pricked my fingers, but I did my best to ignore it, focusing instead on how gently the sun seemed to weaken on the horizon, soon signaling the beginning of the night.

I sighed, starting to accept that I probably wouldn't be having any coffee today until a commotion and a crowd seemed to catch my attention. The sign above the people read "Tweek Bros" in large letters, and without thinking too much, I took my place in the queue, rubbing my hands with anticipation.

The music in my ears distracted me from the lively discussions around me, and soon, the warm air of the café engulfed me as I stepped onto the doormat. Inside, the dilapidated state seemed to bother no one as people of all ages slumped over the few ramshackle chairs with their drinks perched on the miserable pieces of wood that remained. Ultimately, it wasn't really surprising; I doubt the memory of what a real café once looked like still remained in the minds of the customers, even for me, it seemed distant.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the free spot that had opened up in front of me, and it was only when I lifted my gaze that I noticed the most surprising thing I had ever seen. Being somewhat of a wanderer, I had traveled through many towns during my journey, and met many people and many comical situations, but nothing seemed to surpass what stood before me now. Behind the counter stood a person, whose gender was indecipherable given the number of clothes covering their entire body, along with a large box hiding their head equipped with two holes to see through, two sparkling green eyes visible. The image of the server disoriented me, and for a moment I couldn't help but stare, ignoring the anxious demeanor they seemed to have.

"E-How can I help you?" a masculine voice asked, increasing my surprise.

"Uh, an Americano, is that possible?" I replied, showing no emotion on my face without looking at the menu, I ordered the only drink I knew.

"Right away," he said, turning immediately as I let my gaze linger on his figure.

Soon the server turned back and handed me a steaming cup, my hand giving him the change in return. After this brief exchange, our eyes met one last time, and I turned, leaving the café without giving him another glance.

Greeted by the cool air of the now fallen night, I brought the drink to my lips, feeling the bitter taste spread in my mouth. The coffee was utterly disgusting. Still standing in front of the café, I decided to ignore this fact and moved down the street, beginning to search for any sort of hotel that would take me in. I walked and walked, the cup in my hands being my only source of warmth as I arrived in a damaged alley, faced with a completely destroyed hotel door. Stepping into the place, I quickly noticed that no presence seemed to reside there, and I quickly decided to cross the pieces of wood and take the stairs. Soon, I arrived on a floor also in ruins and decided to settle in one of the rooms that seemed to be the one in better condition.

I collapsed exhausted onto the bed, tossing my bag randomly into the room, my limbs crying out for some minimum rest. On the bedside table was a small lamp that I quickly turned on, placing beside it the still steaming cup.

I sighed, finally allowing my body some rest, but as the scent of my drink quickly reached my nostrils, my eyes opened slowly. I stared at the black mixture, watching my blurry reflection in it. A flashback of blood, screams of agony, and human flesh crossed my mind quickly, but I did my best to ignore it.

It had been a few years since everything had happened, and I knew it was useless to think about the past, but I couldn't help it; the last images of my little sister Tricia came back to me. Her glassy eyes, her tousled red hair, and her crystalline tears hit me like a wall. I don't even remember if I had already turned into a zombie at that instant, nor the moment when I transformed.

Everything had seemed like a dream at that time, even though upon waking, the only taste I discovered in my mouth was the one of blood, which had never left my palate, but coffee always seemed to soothe it a little. Or at least that's what other zombies seemed to find because, for me, the red blood never seemed to leave my scent. This thought only gave me a powerful headache as fatigue overwhelmed me, and I settled into the soft bed. I sighed, the smell of coffee still present in the room.

Even though I had lost my humanity during this apocalypse, I knew that the world around me seemed to be slowly starting to be rebuilt. No more statistics presented any survival count among humans, but hope for a new zombie society seemed to constantly float in the minds.

Not that it was my case; I quite liked this apocalypse.

And with that thought, my eyes began to close, my brain projecting the dream I always had, the one where I reunited with my sister and we embraced, both alive.

QOTC: What is your favorite tv show