Septiplier One Shots

The Zombie Song

(Seán's P.O.V.)

The apocalypse was expected, and sure enough it happened pretty quickly. It all started with a plague that basically killed the entirety of the world, and then the remaining people tried to mess with the laws of nature and bring people back from the dead. Long story short, it didn't go very well. Instead of these people coming back as they should, they came back as, you guessed it, zombies. 

And these zombies were like every portrayal. Braindead, hungry murderers. Well, are they really murderers if they're dead? I don't know. But it's pretty much all the world is now. The few remaining humans trying to survive through the post-apocalypse. The rest are zombies, and soon that's all the world will be. Zombies. And I don't know what'll happen after that; maybe a new society (though that's unlikely).

Now normally in these types of stories, you know the post apocalyptic one, the main character is in the minority (in this case, a human). But that's where you're wrong with that one. Cause I'm not a survivor. I'm a zombie, and I have been a zombie since I died back when the plague first hit. Yay...

***

I don't know why I'm different, and why I'm more... Sentient then the other zombies. I just am. I can think for myself, and though I'm hungry all the time it doesn't consume my every thought and action. I guess maybe it's the fact that I was one of the few to die, so my soul had more time to rest before being brought back. The only downside is, zombies aren't always friendly to other zombies. That's why so many are beat up.

I'm not one of the most gruesome, though I'm not gorgeous either. For one, I don't have a left eye. I mean, my bangs cover it (mostly), but I don't have a left eye! For two, I walk with a limp since a zombie fucking mauled me at one point and started tearing at my leg. And of course, we're dead, so we don't heal. So my leg is forever torn up and fucked up. Great. 

Now I'm not doing much but walking along with a small horde, just wandering aimlessly. That's all we do, and the bright side is we never get tired since we're dead so we can just walk and walk and walk. I don't know where we are geography wise, but I think we're somewhere around what used to be LA. Not entirely sure, but I think I can see buildings in the distance. 

"Shit!" As soon as I hear the exclamation my head turns up towards the building near us, where I can see the faint outline of a person. And I'm not the only one that's seen them. The entire horde spotted and heard the survivor. I shrug, stalking up towards the building with the horde. Since I'm with a horde, I'll eat with the rest. After all, I'm not gonna go out of my way to try and protect a survivor. I'm to hungry. 

We walk up to the door just as a group of people run out the back, running as fast as they can down the road. And of course, us hungry zombies quickly follow after. Or, as quick as we can considering most of us move pretty slow. I'm a little quicker, so I end up leading the horde closer and closer to the group. Then one of them turns around and I freeze, my eyes widening (or, eye). 

His hair is black, but there are red tints from what I assume is blood. His clothes are torn, but still fit fairly well and they show off his amazing build. He holds a knife, and has a backpack on. And his eyes are the most beautiful chocolate brown. In summary, he's hot as hell. He spots me too and his eyes go wide eyed before he finally turns back around and runs away with his group. At this point, all the other zombies stopped as well, confused with my actions. 

I just follow the human group. I want to know who that man is. I need to know who that man is. But I'm a zombie, he would never let me anywhere close to him. I'm shocked out of my thoughts by loud shooting coming from where the survivors ran, and I see a zombie get shot in the head. He stumbles back before falling. Everyone knows the only way to kill a zombie is through its head. It's not that gruesome most of the time actually.

I follow quicker, seeing them in the distance. The group of what looks to be five walks into a building, two story. Old apartment building from the looks of it. I follow still, the horde behind me. And then we get there, and I bash down the door. I hear many exclaims from upstairs and the zombie horde and I start heading up the stairs, me sticking towards the back.

Some of the stairs have been knocked out, and gunshots ring out through the building as zombie after zombie drops. But I keep creeping closer, at least wanting one more look at the man. I need one more look. Just one... And soon I'm the only one left on the stairs, and the man I was looking for is the only survivor at the top of the stairs. He holds his gun out, pointing it at me. But he doesn't shoot. Neither of us move, we just stare at each other.

"Mark! Come on!" I hear someone yell, a Swede from the sound of it, and the guy quickly pockets the gun and runs away. Being the only one left I try my best to run down the stairs, out the door, and I see the man, Mark, lagging behind. Perfect. I manage to sneak through alleys and streets until I find a point that the group is crossing. But Mark is still behind. I wait until his group is past but he isn't, and then as he approaches, I cut him off.

He squeaks and grabs his knife, but doesn't do anything. I, on the other hand, do actually do something. I wave.

"Hey. Sorry I scared you." I say politely. He scoffs, waving the knife around.

"Of course you scared me! You're a zom- wait, you can talk?" He asks, looking for his group. But they're nowhere to be seen. They must not of realized that he was lagging behind. I shrug, stepping into an alley so I'm not seen in case they come back. Mark stays on the street. 

"Yeah. I'm one of the few." I say in my natural Irish accent. He chuckles, shaking his head and I hope he'll pocket the knife but he doesn't. I get it, I do. 

"You're a zombie."

"Yep."

"And you aren't eating me."

"Nope."

"Why?"

I shrug again and grab his hand, pulling him closer. Surprisingly he doesn't flinch away. I rest my head on his chest and sigh, closing my eyes. The sound of his heartbeat is so relaxing. I haven't heard the sound of a heartbeat in forever... I love it. 

"Because you're hot. And I want a friend." He laughs, a sound that makes me smile and shiver. 

"But you're a zombie."

"Yep. We established that."

It's silent as I just keep my head on his chest and he at some point had wrapped his arms around me. I don't know why we feel so comfortable with each other, we just do. I pick at the skin on his neck a little, my hunger getting to me but not controlling me. Doesn't help that he has blood on his skin that smells delicious. 

"What's your name?" 

"Seán." 

"I'm Mark." 

I smile, nodding. "I know." I whisper, putting my forehead against his chest and licking at his skin, biting my lip afterwards. "You know how hard it is not to just bite you right now?" 

"I have an idea." 

"Can I have your heart?"

"In what sense?" 

I look up at him and I smile as innocently as I can. 

"Both." And he just laughs and kisses my forehead, shrugging. 

"We'll talk about it." 

A/N: Happy Halloween. Sorry this is a day late, and it's crappy. IDK. If you want later stories with these two, just comment and I'll make another one shot with zombie Seán and survivor Mark.