Apocalypse [Pentatonix AU | Kavi / Scomiche]

Chapter 1 - Calamity

Kirstie Maldonado was alone.

She kicked down the locked door with the little strength she had left, but not before putting a bullet in the biter that had been on her ass right up until she'd found the old house. Quickly she slammed the door behind her, breathing heavily as she bolted it.

Within seconds she spun on her heel, shotgun at the ready. With her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, she slowly made her way through the seemingly abandoned house, finger on the trigger. She cleared out the house in a matter of minutes, only having to waste three bullets on the three biters that were lurking in the kitchen.

Desperately Kirstie flung open the cupboards, searching for anything even somewhat edible. All she found was a can of old beans, which would have to be dinner. Knowing the safest place to set up camp for the night would be the attic, she began to make her way upstairs.

The door to the attic was at the top of three flights of stairs. The room was small, with a singular dusty window in the corner, an old mattress propped up against the left wall, and a broken wooden chair in the center. It was cramped and dark, but it would do. After all, it was nowhere near as bad as some of the other places she'd stayed in the past.

Kirstie made her way over to the lone window, wiping it clean with the sleeve of her jacket. It provided a clear view of the street below her, along with the numerous biters on it.

"Okay," she mumbled to herself, pulling up the chair and perching her shotgun on her lap. She grabbed the lantern from her bag, lighting it and placing it on the floor next to her. She then leaned back against the creaking chair, popping open the beans and forcing them down her throat. They were hard to stomach, but somehow she managed to keep them down.

"I can't even imagine how hard you're laughing right now," Kirstie mumbled to herself, running her fingers across the crumpled piece of notebook paper in her pocket. It was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that it was the only piece of him she had left. "Me, eating beans." She almost cracked a smile. "Crazy."

Kirstie kicked her feet up onto the window sill, tired eyes still fixated on the road. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd gotten a full night's sleep, let alone fall asleep at all. It was just her now. There was no other option but to spend every night with one eye open.

Watching the ironically beautiful sunset through the dusty glass, Kirstie began to drift off into her normal meditative state.

But within less than an hour she woke with a start. Heart racing, she grabbed her gun and spun rapidly in the chair, expecting to be face to face with a biter. Except the room was still empty, the door still shut. Allowing her breathing to return to normal, she cautiously lowered the gun in confusion. She only sprang awake like that when there was a biter nearby. She called it her sixth sense. It usually never failed her.

Groggily, and still looking for an explanation, Kirstie stared out the window to the street below her, now illuminated only by moonlight. At first glance everything seemed perfectly normal. The same eleven or twelve biters were roaming around mindlessly, groaning and occasionally tripping over themselves. Except this time something was off, Kirstie just couldn't put her finger on it.

But it didn't take her long to figure it out.

Biters had a very distinct way of movement, and Kirstie had it memorized. That's why it made it easy for her to identify the one figure on the street below that wasn't a biter. She would have seen it sooner, but she hadn't seen another human being in months. She'd almost convinced herself that she was the only one left.

With her grip tight on her gun, Kirstie's eyes followed the figure as she (or he, it was too dark to tell) made its way along the sidewalk briskly, gun aimed at the biters in the street. The figure obviously knew as well as she did that biters couldn't see in the dark. Whoever it was, they were smart. After all, you had to be at this point.

She continued to watch the figure until, to her surprise, it headed straight for the front door below her. Her heart leapt and began pounding frantically, her mind racing. It was clear this person was smart, which meant they would be smart enough to know to go to the attic.

She was in the attic.

Frantically, and still in shock, Kirstie jumped to her feet and made her way to the door behind her. Although she craved human interaction, she knew she couldn't trust anyone, especially now.

So as Kirstie heard the stairs beneath her creaking, she readied her gun.