Fucking Zombies

Prolouge

Screams.

That's all I can hear right now. The screams of these strangers around me. They are running for their lives, away from the-the things. I don't exactly know what they are, but I've read enough zombie books to know that I shouldn't just be standing here. I should get home, grab that old camping gear, the old gun that my dad used to hide in his closet, and any sharp object in the house. Then, I should head away from the cities. Populated areas are going to be the worst.

At least, that's what I am thinking. But I can't stop watching these people who are running around. They have pure terror in their eyes. I climb up on top of an ugly yellow car with some rust on the silver bumpers that have long since been abandoned and look out into the sea of panicking people. The air smells like death, and if I squint my eyes, I can barely make out some of the monsters. People are jostling the car that I'm now crouching on. I see a child trip, getting separated from its family.

People take no care as to where they step, so the child is quickly stampeded to death. Unfortunately, her head is intact, so she soon turns into one of the dead creatures. I furrow my eyebrows as I watch it grab onto somebody's running ankle, the little girl's grip is strong enough that it is able to pull the ankle closer and crunch down into the flesh. The person screeches an animalistic noise filled with pain and terror. The people surrounding the poor guy suddenly stop and look at the victim of the creature's infection. I take this distraction to grab some random person's supply filled bag. They are so distracted that I am able to yank it off of them and push the person towards the fresh zombie. They stumble and fall with their neck vulnerable to the monster. The zombie clamps onto their neck and crunches down. Blood spews everywhere and it rips the piece of human flesh, tendons, and muscles tear in two. I quickly leap off of the mustard yellow car and dig through the bag. Luckily for me, the person had a few cans and a gorgeous knife. I take a can and pray that this works. I slam the metal into the car's glass window and the alarm starts screeching. The growing horde of the dead goes into a frenzy, trying to get to the new noise. I sadistically grin and run down an alley. I pull the knife out and grip it in my hand, slightly raising it after flinging the bag around my shoulders.

Quickly running down the alley, I make my way towards my apartment. I quickly unlock my door and stumble in quietly closing the door and locking it once again. I move to my window and glower at the smaller people running around. Rolling my eyes, I push my couch to the door and barricade​ it. I run to my bathroom and look in the mirror. I frown slightly when I see that there is some blood on my nice work blouse. I run my fingers through my rusty orange hair. Its a little long, but as long as I keep it in braids, I should be good. I jump in my shower and take a nice long one, cleaning myself thoroughly, shaving my legs for probably one of the last times. I step out when the water becomes cooler. I go and fill all of my pots, pans, bottles, bowls with water. I throw my hair into braided pigtails and dress in some jeans, a black T-shirt, and I grab my leather jacket and place it on a chair close to me. I hear thumping up and down the halls of my apartment. I go through the bag a little more thoroughly and come through with a sheath for the knife. I look back out the window and grin when I hear the screams.

It's... chaotic.

And honestly, I love it.