Chapter 1: Prolouge
Chapter Text
You read the summary, right? I bet you’re here for the part where I meet the monsters, and we team up to fight zombies together. I like that part of the story, but you must understand that every story starts somewhere. And for me? My story, and therefore this story, begins in a classroom. Boring, I know, but backstory has a backstory. It was my first year of college. I was attending a university far from home and was not doing great. When I left my parents' house, I thought I was ready. It sounded so good in books and fanfics I read in college settings, but life isn’t fiction. It’s non-fiction, reality, and that rarely doesn’t suck. The fact at the time was that college was kicking my ass.
Four years ago
Sienna University, Houmarillo, Tex
Friday, the 14th of September
3:22 pm Applied Physics with Mr.Brown
Past (Y/n)’s POV
Imagine a sleep-deprived first-year college student running on coffee and fumes, teetering on the edge of passing out. My professor was droning on about physics. Or was it English? English doesn’t have numbers. Is that a ‘Z’ or a ‘2’? Why does his handwriting have to be so curly? It hurts my brain.
I have to stay awake. This class is my last class of the day. A little bit longer, and I can take a nap at the dorm. The bed may suck, but at least my pillows make up for it.
…
Crap, I'm asleep, aren't I? I shook myself awake before I got too far into my sleep cycle. When I opened my eyes, I immediately checked to ensure I didn't draw attention to myself. Luckily, the professor was busy writing on the board, and everyone else was busy not learning the stuff on the board.
A few more minutes had passed, and it was about time for the class to end. Everyone was beginning to gather their books and stuff them into their bags, and I was already ready to use the last bit of my energy to get home. Mr. Brown cleared his throat to get our attention and announced, “We won't be having class tomorrow.” He paused to roll his eyes at the quiet cheers from his students. “There have been new developments about the strange virus that has been spreading around the country, and the University thought it would be best for students to remain in their dorms and not engage in social activities for a while. So be sure to stay in your dorms this weekend.” There were a couple of muttered complaints and dismissive comments from around the room, but the clock reached 3:30, so everyone left immediately. Including me, I was the first one out the door. As I left the building, I checked my phone calendar and saw that my tutoring session was canceled. Usually, I would have been a bit pressed over the missed session, but it ultimately meant I got to sleep sooner. So, oh well.
The trip to my dorm wasn’t too far. I bought a few snacks from the lobby vending machines before heading to my shared room. Even though I'm a freshman, I managed to score a senior dorm room. It’s a nice room, and I’m grateful for it, but I wish I had a better roommate. Ashleigh, not “Ashley,” as she feels the need to stress, is a senior who plays for the university’s women's softball team. She never fails to tell me every day that she wishes she got roomed with one of her teammates rather than some “random-ass” first-year student. We try not to interact with each other because once this semester ends, we can apply for a roommate exchange. I just hope I get to keep the room.
I walked into our shared dorm to see her getting ready to leave. She was pacing around the room, stuffing things into her purse and fixing her appearance. She noticed me in the doorway, and her expression shifted to minor annoyance. “You’re back early.” She stated flatly. I shrugged and entered the room, closing the door behind me. She continued her business and walked back to her room. I sat on the couch and put my backpack off to the side. I decided right away that I was going to fall asleep in a movie tonight. I turned on the TV and started browsing Netflix for a good “bad” movie to zone out to.
Ashleigh came out a few minutes later, dressed like she was going to a club...which was entirely possible. Against my better judgment, I asked her, “Where are you going?”
She pauses and looks over at me. Surprisingly, she gave me an answer rather than her middle finger. She said, “Sigma Theta Delta is holding a welcome-back party for all juniors and seniors. No freshmen allowed.” Ah, the STDs. The acronym is accurate, and I love it.
A thought occurred to me. “Isn’t the campus on quarantine?”
“Who gives a shit. Classes are canceled with no consequences,” Ashleigh says. She says it was stupid of me to ask. I wasn’t about to try to stop her, but I swear if she got sick, I wouldn’t wait for the roommate exchange to get out of dodge. She lazily nods to the kitchen, “Someone sent you something.”
I glanced behind the couch and wondered how I didn’t notice the giant basket on the table. I got off the couch to look at the basket. I noticed the plastic around it was open, and there was an open box of cookies. “Did you eat stuff from my care package?!”
Ashleigh said nothing, flipped me off, and left.
“...Bitch.” I muttered under my breath. My attention back to the package, I started sifting through everything to find the “Ah, here it is,” I found the note. The care package was from my parents. They send care packages to me once a month. My mom adds my favorite snacks and little knick-knacks she finds at Dollar Tree. I’m never sure if my dad packs anything for me, but he does add his two cents to the notes, so maybe he does. The note read:
“Dear (Y/n),
How is your semester going now? We know you’re having trouble, but we want you to know that everyone at home is rooting for you! Your father recently got a promotion, and I have decided to take up gardening. Your younger brother had his first soccer game last Saturday, and he won! He was sad that you couldn’t fly back home to see him, but he said that he would practice hard so that you could see him win when you visit.
Anyway, I packed a basket full of your favorite snacks and even got your father to pick out a special present for you!
Love you!
From,
Your mother”
I dug through the basket, hoping that Ashleigh hadn’t nabbed my present from Dad, too. I found the wrapped present, and I was pleasantly surprised. There were three items:
A solar-powered backup battery, an mp3 player, and a cord to charge it.
I smiled at the gifts. My dad and I permanently bonded over music, and though I can listen to music whenever I want through YouTube, it’s the thought that counts. I picked up the rest of the package, put it in my room, and then sat on the couch with my new MP3 player to start loading it with songs. I stayed there browsing songs with Zombieland playing in the background till I fell asleep.
The door slammed open, and I was startled awake. “Geez, why?” I complained. I looked over the couch and saw Ashleigh stomping through the apartment. She looked highly disheveled. I guess she had a good time. I watched her stumble around the apartment and felt something was off. “Ashleigh, you good?”
She stops abruptly and holds her head, “Shut up! My head is killing me!” How is she already hungover? I got up from the couch and decided to head to my room. It’s best to avoid Ashleigh when she’s like this. After locking my door behind me, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. It was then I noticed that it was super loud outside. People are screaming and crashing. The fraternity down the street must also be having a party tonight. I put my pillow over my face and screamed. No peace today! I turned on my new MP3 player and put in my earbuds for the second time tonight.
Now Playing
Doomsday
Murray Gold
⏮ ⏸ ⏭
The song that played was oddly intense, but I didn’t mind. I remember it from this old show my dad watched with me. I was too young to digest it, but I think the fantastic creatures and effects engaged me. I heard knocking on my door through my headphones. With a sigh, I took the right bud out of my ear and went to see what Ashleigh wanted. “What—! Are you okay?!” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. She looked so much paler now and looked like she might pass out.
“D-do you have any painkillers?” She whimpered out. She looked like she had been crying, and she had dark circles under her eyes now.
Still slightly unsettled, I said, “Um, yeah. I have some in my medicine box.” I began to lead her to the bathroom. My medicine box is locked to keep Ashleigh and her friends out, but tonight is an exception. I went into the bathroom and pulled my medi-box from the cabinet. As I fished for my keys from the pocket, I heard Ashleigh retch. “Gross—AHH!” I was caught off guard by Ashleigh lunging at me. I dodged, and she smacked her on the edge of the bathtub! “Holy shit! Ashleigh!” I quickly went to turn her over and screamed when I saw her forehead was caved in. She was still looking at me, though.
With cold, dead eyes.
She was breathing in long, ragged breaths, and I found myself stumbling backward, fear and confusion causing tears to begin to form in my eyes. There was this black sludge beginning to pour from her mouth, and that’s precisely what I ended up slipping on during one unfortunate step. I fell back first into the puddle and felt it soak through my jacket but not into my clothes. Then, Ashleigh began rushing at me, crawling at an inhuman pace. I screamed and started kicking her in the face.
Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot—
CRACK
…
I kicked her in the neck that time.
Oh god…
Why?
Ashleigh was no longer moving anymore. No ragged breathing, no blood. She was just twitching, and black sludge pouring from her mouth. I kicked her off of me and scrambled up.
Leave. I have to leave. I grabbed the medicine box from the counter, turned the lock to the bathroom, and closed the door with Ashleigh inside. I went straight into my room. It was then that I took in the chaos outside my window. From the eighth floor of the dorms, I had a perfect view of the world ending around me. People were running while pale, sludge-covered people trailed behind them. Fires had started, and car alarms were going off. A city bus zoomed past and crashed, exploding. Cursing, I emptied my backpack and fumbled to pack through my panic rationally.
Five pairs of clothes
The world is ending
Underwear and socks
God why
A water bottle
breathe
A flashlight
I can’t breathe
My medi-box
I’m not okay
I strapped a chargeable digital watch to my wrist and mentally blanked on what else to bring. I shouldn’t overpack, but I’ve never had to pack for an apocalypse. Packing for the apocalypse is hard. There’s so much stuff I want to take, but I’m not sure if I should. Will I need my phone? I looked at the signal and saw that I had bars but no Wi-Fi. How long before the cell and data towers are down? How long before there’s no more electricity? With a bit of hesitation, I packed my phone and a charger. Leaving my room, I nervously walked past the bathroom and towards the kitchen to continue packing.
A couple of cans of non-perishable and a can opener
Please let this all be a dream
Two lighters
I don’t want to die
I equipped a sturdy-looking kitchen knife in my right hand and went to turn the front door handle but hesitated. I’m so scared. I’ve been silently crying this entire time and couldn’t help but sob. The sound of Ashleigh scratching at the bathroom door strengthened my resolve.
It's time to get the hell out of dodge.
I made my way down to the parking garage without much trouble. I cringed the whole way, hearing gut-wrenching sounds all around me. When I reached the door leading to the parking deck, a zombie fell through. I let out a startled yell, and it grabbed my left arm. I stabbed it in the arm and tried not to gag as it fell off quickly. I raised my kitchen knife and stabbed it in the chest. It didn’t do much. In a last-ditch effort, I went for a more vital area: his neck.
Blood sprayed from his neck, covering the front part of my jacket and, fortunately, missing my face. The zombie fell to the floor, the lower body still moving, but the near decapitation left it immobile. Then, I noticed that the stuff that sprayed out of the zombie wasn’t blood. It couldn’t be; blood doesn’t glow. I watched the bright red substance turn into black sludge.
W-what is that?!
I didn’t have much time to ponder this because another walking corpse was in the doorway! I froze. My hand was empty. I glanced down to see my knife had been embedded in my recent takedown’s throat. The zombie in the doorway stepped forward, and I flinched and braced myself.
But nothing happened.
I opened my eyes, wondering when I closed them, and saw that the new threat was no longer in front of me. He was walking past me clumsily up the stairs. Why didn’t he attack me? I looked at the black sludge all over my jacket. Could it be… that they think I’m one of them because I’m covered in it? My jacket was drenched front and back.
For a moment, I pondered whether this was good or bad. It’s good that I found a potential cloaking device, but what if this stuff kills me and is what turns people into zombies in the first place…
I’ve been covered in it for a while now, but maybe that’s because I haven't come into direct contact with it yet. My jacket hasn’t soaked through. But that shouldn’t be enough to protect me anyway, should it? Against what was probably my better judgment, I scooped some of the sludge from the growing puddle on the floor and began rubbing some more over my jacket and pants. I shook the rest off my hands and was surprised it didn’t stain.
I guess it isn’t blood, after all.
I then ventured out into the parking garage. It was a sight to behold. I wasn’t the only one to try fleeing the building. Many cars were gone, but some had crashed into the concrete walls and pillars. The drivers and passengers probably turned during their escapes. Carefully, I crossed the threshold of the door and closed it quietly. I could hear groaning in the distance. I peered around a corner and saw a few zombies stumbling around aimlessly.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.
With a shake of breath that barely steeled me, I moved forward. I was hesitant and slow, thinking that if I sprinted, I would bring attention to myself. I couldn’t help but keep my head down because I was afraid that if I looked up, I would see a zombie ready to end my existence. I brushed up against one and flinched… but it limped past me. I slowly lifted my head and realized none were concerned about me. With that revelation, I made my exit just a smidge quicker.
Walking out of the garage and into the streets was nerve-wracking. There was fire, people dying, dead walking, and then there was me, watching. I balled my hands into my jacket pockets out of nervous habit but found my headphones and new mp3 player were in my right pocket. I looked from the player in my hands to the world before me.
I hit shuffle and shoved the headphones in my ears.
Now Playing
Nobody
by Mitski
⏮ ⏸ ⏭
I made my way through the streets of Houmarillo, sticking to one direction till I got tired. I made camp in an unfinished house in what seemed to be a developing private neighborhood. I cried myself to sleep that night. Waking up, I thought I had dreamed of everything, but seeing the wooden walls of the random house I stumbled into sobered me up quickly. I went through my bags and opened a can of peaches while trying to make a food plan. I found my Applied Physics notebook and a few loose pens at the bottom of my bag. I guess I didn’t do a good job emptying my backpack during the initial panic. I didn’t mind it, though. I ripped several pages of notes out of the book and took out a permanent marker.
Applied Physics with Mr.Brown
(Y/n)’s Rules for the Apocalypse and Survival journal
Volume 1
I stared at the repurposed notebook with a morbid smile. This is my acceptance that this is my life now. I packed up all my supplies and began my life as a nomad. I moved from place to place, just trying to keep moving. On the way, I began developing some rules. I don’t know if it's simply the sentiment talking, but I think the guy from Zombieland had the right idea about making survival rules. So, I created and promised to stick to eight rules. I originally devised ten but kept forgetting nine, and ten became irrelevant after an incident.
Rule #8: Not all offers need to be taken
Rule #7: Travel Light and Travel Fast
Rule #6 Needs and Wants need Balance
Rule #5: Silence Saves
Rule #4: Choose Your Battles
Rule #3: Double-tap!
Rule #2: Kindness is not weakness
Rule #1 HOPE
These rules were written on my notebook's back page to ensure it wasn’t in the way of future entries. I was never much of a writer before the world ended, but the routine diaries keep me sane. I was eighteen years old when I left Houmarillo. I went on several adventures, some of which I will probably eventually tell you because they sometimes play into or explain some of my later actions. Still, as I said in the beginning, you want to know what happened in Ebott.
You want to find out how I became the leader of this monster camp.
Chapter 2: Rule #1 Magic
Summary:
I remember when I first arrived in Ebott. Months of living by myself. Til I wasn't. Now if I recall correctly...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
I found myself in Ebott about three years after the start of the outbreak. Society collapsed pretty much five months after the pandemic, but I’d say it was on a downhill decline a month or two before my roommate tried to eat my face. The deterioration of the world happened in stages rather than all at once. The first stage was ignorance and denial; the information on the virus was slow to come out, and when it did, no one took it seriously. To be fair, a zombie virus is or instead was, pretty out there in terms of news. I think if I had heard it, I would have thought it was a prank or some type of large-scale hoax.
Hoax on me, I guess…as you can tell, Sans has long since gotten to me. Though I wasn’t much of a pun person at the time, I tried to find fun where I could.
Zombieland Rule #32 - Enjoy the little things. Enjoy happiness where it can be found to stay sane.
Zombieland was a great movie and a surprisingly good guide to the apocalypse. The rules of Zombieland have kept me as safe as you can be in a hellscape, but a year ago, I got pretty lax after having a two-year streak. I got lazy in Ebott because I made it home.
The day I came to Ebott, I was exhausted.
I remember saying to myself every day, “I should break into a shoe store when I finally make it somewhere. If I make it somewhere.”
And I did make it somewhere. That morning I had left my temporary camp at an abandoned motel and had walked for around four hours before I reached a sign. A green road guide sign stood lonely on the abandoned interstate. While there were a few abandoned cars along the way, most I avoided because they reeked of car-baked dead. They were all heading in the opposite direction. A bad omen, maybe, but seeing confirmation that I haven’t been walking in circles is hope in dire form.
“Welcome to Ebott, the home of magic.” Cute. Well, except for the bullet holes and rust overtaking the art…or is that dried blood… semantics. Blood is an everyday sight and has lost its shock factor…unless it’s pouring out of me, that will always be shocking AND terrifying.
Walking past the sign and continuing confidently, I make it to the rest stop and information center for Ebott, and the building looks just as quaint as the sign. The place is about as abandoned and crime scene-esque as anywhere else. Blood, fallen, corpses (thankfully not undead), abandoned cars, all things to be expected at this point. The true things to look out for are active sounds, possible escape routes, and anything that may tell me how immediately I should get out of dodge. I take out my headphones when I turn off my phone. My full focus is needed here to make sure I don’t become someone's lunch or captive. As I walked up to the bathroom area, I slipped my bat from my bag as well, and as I posed it in a ready-to-swing position, I felt the cold metal brush against my neck, a contrast to how hot it was out there. Ebott is located further south than I’ve ever traveled before, and adjusting to the weather changes along the way has been a process.
Did I take off my jacket? Nope! The more layers between you and a bite, the better. Rather, I elected to take more breaks and find shade if possible. Water is always a must, but when I walked through Bamazona, where the heat must have been surfacing the hundreds of days, I made sure to break into a couple more stores to find a bigger refillable water jug. The extra weight was worth it.
The grip tape on my bat made a rubbing sound in my hands; as I got closer to the bathroom, the movie rang in my head.
#3: Beware of Bathrooms - Don't let them catch you with your pants down. Zombies know to hang around them, caution can help avoid an ambush.
When I reached the bathroom for the ladies' room, I first banged my bat against the door, making a really loud sound, then I retreated, watching my back and peripheral. When I made it to a position where I knew I could escape, I stopped to listen. While not all zombie behaviors were EXACTLY like the movies, there are a few patterns I’ve tracked that make it easier to plan around living in the apocalypse.
Know your Zombie. A helpful list for your Zombie-Interactions
- Zombies are fast at first. You see, fresh zombies, zombies that have turned relatively recently, are really fast. They will sprint at you on sight. At around two days from turning, their decay rate picks up by a lot. That’s when they start to look like the zombies you see in the movies. Skin loses most of its color and becomes gray with bright red splotches. The splotches don’t seem to be blood, but maybe that’s just a virus thing.
- Zombies may retain some mental faculties. I’ve yet to run into a zombie that can talk or do math, but I have seen some that know how to open doors, remember how to scream like they're in distress, and have pretty good object permanence. Essentially, they retain luring and hunting skills until the decay finally reaches their brain, usually by day five.
- Some good ways to detect zombies before they detect you are the stench of death, gurgling and coarse vocal sounds, and violent destruction. Unlike anything I’ve seen in movies, these zombies become aimlessly violent when idle. When a living person comes around, they have a target and become directly violent towards their next meal(?). Otherwise, they will scratch walls, bash their heads against things, break glass, and may even become self-destructive. Creepy stuff, I remember we had locked a zombie that got past the perimeter in an empty pantry back at…yeah, anyway, After an hour of arguing about how to handle it since it was fresh and super strong, we heard it- opting out on its own. Glad I didn’t have to clean up that mess.
I heard no noises from the bathroom; nothing happened when I banged on the door. I opened the door and was hit by something absolutely foul…or is that how bathrooms usually are…I’ll use a bush.
Business was taken care of…I continue my search for the visitor center. From what I can gather, Ebott was a town that played into the gimmick of being a small town despite not being all that small anymore. Ebott started as a village, a hamlet at minimum, and was a settlement for a group of humans.
Humans…? Why specify that? I stared perplexedly at the pamphlet while I sat atop the scaffolding on the ceiling, hard to ambush, easy to escape through the skylight. I grabbed one of each non-soiled map and pamphlet to see if I could learn anything useful before I got there. According to this infomatic, the town had a fascination with magic and the occult for nearly a century before the digital age came about, and everything boiled down to tourist traps and gimmicks. The pamphlet about the “home of magic” contained a road map through the now larger town leading to historical landmarks regarding magic and the occult. There was a big star on the mountain towards the center of the Ebott. The label told me that the attraction was a hiking trail up the mountain.
It isn’t long before I start to feel antsy, and I stuff everything into my backpack and make my way out. I give the parking lot full of abandoned cars a longing look, not looking forward to the long trek to the actual town. The sun is approaching the center of the sky. It’s probably afternoon now. I take my headphones out of my bag along with my mp3 player, fully charged from how long it was hooked up to my solar charger. If I’m about to walk- I look over to the road sign next to me.
Ebott - 6 miles
If I’m about to walk 6 miles, then I’m going to need some travel jams to take my mind off how absolutely fucked my feet are.
Now Playing
Birthday Suit
Cosmo Sheldrake
⏮ ⏸ ⏭
The road to Ebott was a deserted desert. Corpses, human or zombie, strewn about every so often. There were stretches of land with forest, but it’d peter off into bog-like land and back to desert eventually. I knew I was getting somewhere once; the green was a bit more consistent. People build civilization near water…yeah, let’s cling to that. And luckily, I did. I reached—
A wall.
I remember staring up at that wall for a few minutes. I was not unfamiliar with people fortifying areas, but this wall looked more planned. Rather than random metal scraps from recovered construction sights, amateur cut-up trees fashioned into spikes, or even just random furniture, this wall was made of professionally poured concrete. Did Ebott manage to prepare itself before the virus hit?
Still cautious against calling out, though I definitely felt alone, I walked along the length of the wall, looking for ways in or perhaps someone guarding the wall; as I walked, I couldn’t help the warmth of hope filling my chest, causing excitement and making myself relax a little more than I probably should. Still, I really couldn’t help myself; no matter how many times I have seen groups fall apart, safe havens burn, and be hit by the betrayal of survival of the fittest, there is always this longing, this need for companionship. Humans are social creatures, after all. We are all dependent on our humanity, no matter how tired we might be. It will probably be the death of me one day.
I eventually found a gate-like structure about 3 miles along the wall I walked. There were guard posts both above and at the base of the gate, though the ones near me were empty. They probably quickly found that being on the ground was risky. I took a breath in and called out a cautious “Hello!” When I was met with silence, and after a third try, I accepted that no one was coming. While this wall was pretty well designed against zombie attacks and hoards, it was not inaccessible for someone of a sound mind and body. With what felt like a bit more of my energy reserve, I put my effort into using the wall and guard boxes to climb my way up the gate. Hoisting myself over the wall was a lot tougher than I’d like to admit. I mean, I got pretty fit so far, but scarce food and running for your life isn’t really a diet plan I’d recommend. The wall was like that that you’d erect around a castle. A, um, what was that thing from that one class?
God, it’s been ages….a battlement! Yeah, one of those. I flinched and got skittish when I saw bodies along the battlement, but they seemed to be just corpses. If they were zombies, then they had long decayed. As the sun bared harshly at the peak of the sky, I noted that the sun was probably a big aid in the withering away of these guards. I stepped inward of the wall and saw out unto the land of Ebott. Another fallen city. There was no activity. I could hear nothing. The air was clear, save for the wind carrying occasional decay as it traveled.
I eventually found my way off the battlement and walked the empty streets. Corpses, trash, debris, but no people. Well, there were a couple of bugs scittering about, but why am I even mentioning that? I got a town square of sorts. There was a fountain in the middle, and the road was a roundabout with important city buildings, the town hall, the courthouse, the City council hall, and the community center. Feeling admittedly desperate for some sign of anyone, I made an extremely dumb decision. I picked up a trash can lid and banged my hand axe against it, making an awful and loud noise. I screamed, “IS ANYONE HERE? PLEASE?”
But nobody came.
Not even the shambling of violent zombies could be heard.
Ebott, the home of magic, was a ghost town now. My hands dropped as the realization sank in, and I dropped the lid. I sat down on the edge of the fountain, feeling my hope leave once again. The sunlight around me was shrinking towards me, and I looked up to see clouds covering the sun. You’d think the coolness of the shade brang would feel good, but it honestly made me feel a bit numb. I’m not sure how long I sat there, but once the clouds passed and the sun's rays reached me again, I knew I had to keep going. With a steadying breath, I got up, gripping my hand axe with new resolve, and continued to venture through town. I really didn’t find anyone along the way, but I found that I could piece together what might have happened to Ebott as I took in what was left behind.
Ebott prepared. I could see large camps set up, abandoned, of course. This was probably done once they started trying to conserve resources. Resources are kept in their only supermarket. I came across a Walmart. Cables were coming out of the building attached to various generators and vehicles. They probably did their best to make sure the fridges ran for as long as possible. I can’t imagine getting people to pile their resources together would be easy. People get paranoid and greedy fast. The apocalypse brings out the best and worst in people.
Of course, my first thought was to raid the place, well, whatever could be raided. But where would I take my spoils? A glance in the distance was my answer. A large mansion or something of the like was poking out like a sore thumb towards the mountain. Why not live largely? I’m basically in charge. I used the useless cables to tie carts together securely and used an amazingly working truck to run a train of goodies to my new home! Well, my new home after I broke in of course.
As I stepped foot into the mansion, I held my axe ready. For zombies or maybe even craze survivors, but to my luck…and still barely there disappointment, the place was abandoned. I explored and found that the place may not have even been occupied before. A better look outside showed that it was for sale by realtors before. Could the previous owner have skipped town before Ebott locked down and locked in? Well, it made settling in easier, at least. I remember going to sleep that night after barricading myself in for safety, and I thought about all the things I had to do to make, as a whole, a home for one.
The little mission I set up for myself kept me relatively sane as I survived solo. Months passed by, and I was able to furnish the mansion with recovered furniture single-handedly, set up a garden in the backyard, and turn three rooms into food reserves. No worries, the place has seven more. Well, six. I put some heart into setting up my bedroom. That mattress was a whole ordeal, though.
The truck I originally procured had been a lifesaver. However, it takes a lot to keep it going. One of my chores was to siphon gas from the rest of the cars to keep old Red going. Could I have switched to a different car, maybe? But I felt content with Red, and the fact that it came on the first try the first time made me irrationally attached. It’s a survivor like me, I guess. Speaking of survivors…I don’t know why I set up that sentence like that; there were none. There were a couple of zombies every once in a while, but none were fresh. Taking down zombies was becoming second nature to me.
Anyway, it was on a fuel run that I noticed someone had painted symbols along the wall. I mean, at first, I thought it was graffiti, but they just itched a part of my brain that told me to be suspicious.
The feeling didn’t go away, so I decided one day that I’d do some snooping, investigating, mystery gang shenanigans, if you will. I didn’t find much at the town library, well, except for the librarian. Poor dear. He stayed at his post, I guess. I did, however, find much more interesting information at Ebott’s tourist traps. Tales and “facts” about witches and magic and monsters. The signs on the walls were these sigils I found on a poster in one of the gift shops. I took one with me. Left a dollar I found in a guy’s pocket for payment; shits and giggle, really. I found myself entertained by the books about magic. I nabbed a couple of spell books, monster manuals, and witch kits. It was fun. I was goofing.
Then, one day, on another fuel run, if you’d believe it, I stumbled across another sigil along the wall. What I first thought was graffiti ages ago, I now new was likely a concoction of black mud. I noticed that this one looked a bit off, though. It was missing the final stroke.
Boredom, am I right? I decided to make the black mud myself and finish it. Admittedly, there were plenty of other things to do, but the acknowledgment that they were chores and there for obligations made it easier to procrastinate. So, witchy stuff was more appealing. It took a few tries, though I wasn’t sure what I was trying so hard for. Once I finished the mud, I painted the last stroke—
And a blinding flash occurred! And a force knocked me back! I was disoriented and scared, but I quickly realized that no one was attacking me. I chucked the incident up to heat stroke. However, I eventually started thinking I was having real strokes. I am definitely no doctor, but I started having days of intense deja vu and feeling like periods were repeating. I didn’t really start freaking out until I realized that I would wake up and my calendar was a day behind. I’d mark down Tuesday night and wake up and it’s the Sunday previous. It was maddening. I was sure I was losing my mind from mundanity and loneliness.
So, I decided to avoid venturing out for a while. Ghost town shenanigans could wait. I instead focused on the garden and planned to make it more of a farm. Working in the back, I found that sometimes my crops would be disturbed. An animal, I thought. But then I realized that someone might be living on the mountain somewhere, stealing my food…
Which is welcome! Even more welcome would be if they would talk to me. I tried leaving notes and waiting for the person, but they seemed to be avoiding me. And so I decided to try and look for them on the mountain one day. That special day. I happened to wake up bright and early and ventured through the forest cautiously. This person was leaning more on the unfriendly side if they refused to approach me cordially.
I screamed when I felt the ground shake, a loud explosive sound coming from a ways away. The ground shook for at least a full two minutes and when when the earthquake passed, I could hear car alarms in the distance down the mountain.
An earthquake. Who would have thought?
Shaken, heh, I continued forward. I explored for at least another fifteen minutes until I heard a voice. Voices! Could it be that the Jerry to my Tom and Jerry routine was actually a group of survivors? How great! How bad? How-
How was I supposed to feel about this?
A twig snapped and held in a screech. I swiveled, panicked, but froze when I saw a skeleton?! I’ve seen various levels of decay, but I’ve never seen someone walking around with just a skull—
“AH! HELLO THERE HUMAN?”
I-it talked. And I think at that point, I passed out. Briefly, right?
When I came to, I saw that same skull staring down at me, and boy, am I happy that I didn’t immediately attempt to bash his skull in. Out of defense, alright? Instead, I froze, so sure that this zombie was going to bite my face off. Instead, asked me if I was alright.
“HUMAN?! ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU PLAYING DEAD?”
I think I remember saying something dumb, like- “Are you not?”
“OF COURSE NOT HUMAN. I AM ALIVE AND WELL. ARE ALL HUMANS THIS RUDE.”
“I-I think I finally lost it. I-” And then I totally didn't cry or anything. The zombie or not zombie was super worried and looked around before coddling me. “IT’S OKAY, HUMAN, PLEASE DON’T CRY. LOOK, STAY HERE, AND I’LL FIND HUMAN FRISK. THEY’LL KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH A CRYING HUMAN—OH! HELLO THERE-” The skeleton gasped. I looked through tired eyes, and my breath caught at the all-too-familiar sight. “HUMAN! ER- NEWEST HUMAN! YOU ARE WOUNDED! BADLY!” I heard the dangerous growl of a zombie and fast footsteps.
Killing zombies was second nature.
I jumped up and was fast enough to get between the skeleton and the charging zombie. This one was fresh. Though dirty, the skin was barely blemished, much less decaying. The cause of death was clear, though. This man, a park ranger going by the uniform, had probably bashed his head against a rock and died. His eyes were bright red, leaking that weird red substance like all the others. He was long gone.
Though I was still confused by the talking skeleton and thought maybe he was a figment of my fracturing mind, I yelled, “GO! Get out of here or out of the way! I’ll hold him off!” The zombie ranger had locked on me instead and was going for me now. I could hear the skeleton gasp again in the background as I dodged the ranger again, this time hacking one of his legs as he missed me. The partial severing of his leg had him on the ground, but not out for good. Bleeding out isn’t typically a worry for zombies. They barely bleed at all once there so far in. Well, this one did cause he was fresh, but semantics.
“HUMAN-”
“He ain’t human no more, he’s a zombie and he wants to kill us. GO!” The zombie leaped at me again, and this time, I managed to get him in the arm, though he almost bit me in proximity. Mountains don’t make for good fighting terrain. I didn’t see the skeleton in my peripheral or hear him, so I thought he left. And that distracted me more than it should have. The zombie bodied me; the incline of the hill we were on was to its advantage. I used my axe as a barrier, lodging the handle of its biting maw to keep it from getting a chunk out of me. I recall struggling for only a moment or two, thinking they were my last when the zombie was suddenly off of me. Then, a bright light and heat coursed above me, a strange sound in the air. The light blinded me, and out of self-preservation, I curled up, protecting my neck and face. When I opened my eyes, my heart was pounding in my ears, which is probably why I didn’t hear the slippers that came into my line of sight as they walked up to me. I turned my head and saw the silhouettes of a group of people. Well, apparently not human people, but-
Monsters.
Notes:
Yay! Another chapter is done! All Undertale stuff from here. Promise.
NamiroBossNil on Chapter 2 Tue 18 Feb 2025 01:45AM UTC
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