Story cover for ᒪIᐯIᑎG & D⃒Y⃒I⃒N⃒G⃒ by Its_Lee_
ᒪIᐯIᑎG & D⃒Y⃒I⃒N⃒G⃒
  • WpView
    Reads 14,474
  • WpVote
    Votes 972
  • WpPart
    Parts 11
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 37m
  • WpView
    Reads 14,474
  • WpVote
    Votes 972
  • WpPart
    Parts 11
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 37m
Ongoing, First published Aug 15, 2015
Mature
What am I doing with my life? I need to get out more. I need to make some friends. God I'm so pale. And my posture is terrible. I should stand up straighter. People would respect me more if I stood up straighter. 

What am I even talking about? There are no people. There is no one to talk to. This is the apocalypse. I'm dead. No ones gonna respect a dead person. A bullet to the head is probably all I'll get if I try to make friends. And even if they didn't try to shoot me, there is no guarantee I wouldn't eat them. Maybe I'm better off alone. Completely isolated. Forever.

I wish I was alive. The living are so lucky. They get to eat and sleep and dream. I get to drag my feet, make groaning noises, and eat people. I'm so lonely. I want to dream. I want to live.

I want to love.

But no one wants a smelly flesh eating corpse for a boyfriend. I'll never get to sleep or dream or live or love, because that's what the living do. I'll just be stuck in this lifeless body for all eternity. I'd give anything to be alive again. 

I'd give anything to have love.
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Craig of the Dead by Its_Me_Tweek_Tweak
47 parts Complete Mature
Hey, you! Yeah, you. Listen up, dude, because I don't have much time. Actually, I have a ton of time, I just don't feel like repeating myself. South Park is infested with zombies. Yeah, you heard me right. Shuffling around, undead, want to eat you zombies. I'm stuck as some kind of leader of a tiny crew of kids. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but everyone else seems to think I do, so I guess we're going with that. In a few days the whole town went from being kinda nuts to completely chaotic. Why do people think I'm a good leader? Why'd all the adults leave? Where's literally half of my grade, they can't all be dead, can they? Why are we not allowed to leave South Park? Do they want us die? How long can we keep on living like this? Most importantly, why couldn't I have just gone with Tweek to the stupid bathroom? Now he's M.I.A. and it's my fault. Anyway, I hope maybe you can find some pleasure in reading this. I mean, I would probably get bored, but whatever floats your boat, dude. Gotta run. Clyde's throwing another fit because someone ate his Hot Pocket (Spoiler Alert, it was me). See ya later, stranger. -Craig **NOTE: the story is not written as journal entries by Craig, I just thought it would be a fun little bit to put as the hook. Apologies if it is misleading.** **ALSO NOTE: the mature content warning is for language, and language only. Well, and I suppose gore and violence, but that depends on what you define as gore and violence**
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F*** Cancer, This One Did Us All In.

39 parts Complete

There's not a lot that can freak me out in this world. Only large animals with sharp claws, too many people touching me, bullies, hives, horror movies, sitting underneath fans or lights or anything that dangles from a ceiling, glass or wooden bridges, my mother, mosquitoes, public situations, taking a shower with nobody in the house, taking a shower with too many people in the house and crocks. Oh, and zombies. Zombies is definitely on that list. It's almost a shame too, that I have to race through a city packed full of them to find my missing family. Packed full of zombies, by the way, not crocks. (Although I don't know which situation is worse.) Now I have to not only keep my feeble body alive, but also protect (or be protected by) my two best friends in the entire world as we all try to survive in a city packed with the Dead.