Sunday, 10 October 2010
12:55:02 PM (GMT)
Find first chapter here!
Chapter 2: After the end
Why am I here? For that matter, where IS here? I’ve been on the run for days in any
direction my feet take me, and I’m no longer aware of my location. I don’t even
remember what’s happened. There was zombies...and fear...but other than that, I
don’t remember what happened. In fact, I don’t even remember much about myself. I
know that my name is Samantha... whatever my last name is. I know my 15th birthday is
in 2 months... I think. I lost track of time. If I find any survivors of this cursed
apocalypse, maybe I can ask what the date is. I have some vague memories of how to
play the piano...and guitar...and a bit of the flute... and some recipes. Yeah, I
don’t know why I remember so little. Perhaps I hit my head on something – oh yup.
There’s a bump. A big one. How nice. I really hope it’s temporary.
After that oh-so-interesting monologue, I look up and noticed a town up ahead. Why I
didn’t notice that, I don’t know, but it seems pretty quiet, and that means
there’s a good chance that there are no zombies there. Whoopee, no zombies!
As I got closer, rain started to fall from the sky. Oh yeah, it rains a lot here,
doesn’t it? More than Forks, or Spoons, or whatever that town in Twilight was
called. I don’t know, I don’t think I ever read it. Well, anyways, while I’m
busy with my kind-of-lame monologue, I start to wander onto the streets. Thankfully,
there don’t seem to be any zombies around. Nothing else, for that matter. A few
newspapers, and that’s it. They’re from a few months ago. Since the apocalypse
came, there’ve been no news reports other then the odd panicked TV report, but most
of the TV’s are dead now. Well, except for movies. If you can find times to watch
them. As soon as you turn on one of the noisy movies, you’re a target. Zombies have
very good hearing, apparently. Whenever you turn something on, they go insane and try
to eat you. Literally. It sucks. All those years of Disney work and such...wasted.
Shame. Yeah, I know I’m mentioning a bunch of different pop culture things, I’m
aware of this. I don’t usually do this. I think it has something to do with the
amnesia. I may not remember my own full name, but I remember big names like Disney
and Twilight. Makes a whole lot of sense. Once I get at least part of my memory back,
I’ll try to stop.
As I’m wondering around, my stomach started to grumble. It’s been awhile since I
ate anything... Adventure ho, right? Ok, ok, yeah, another pop culture reference, I
apologize. Well, anyways, looking for food to eat...or make. Probably eat. After a
bit of searching, I eventually find an old bakery which appears to be untouched.
After carefully getting through the window without making too much noise, I looked
around at the stale dough and whatever else was there. There was a few muffins, but
they’re hard as rock. But still, I want to eat. But these muffins are disgusting.
My goodness. While looking around in the back kitchen, I happen to walk past a shiny
fridge and start to regain memory of what I look like. Looking at my reflection in
the appliance, the first thing I notice is that I’m kind of short. About 5’4-ish.
My hair is light brown and a bit longer then shoulder-length. My eye colour is a
darkish-green, and my skin is pretty pale. I’m wearing a kind-of-scrappy school
uniform, with a black blazer and skirt and a bland white shirt. Real riveting. It’s
ugly. And all shredded up. It’ll last, I guess.
As I continue walking around, I step on something I didn’t notice until now. A
zombie corpse. I jumped back, mistaking it for being alive for a brief moment. After
realizing it was already long dead, I gave it a kick. Don’t ask why, I just found
it amusing. On the forehead of it, I saw a large gash slicing through a star which I
swear looks like a pentagram. How nice, I always had a feeling that zombies came from
hell. How did the gash get here though? It must’ve fallen in battle, but I don’t
think anyone would be stupid enough to get into close combat with a zombie, what with
the risk of being bitten and zombie-fied themselves. Or, wait, “zombie-fied”
isn’t a word? Fine, whatever. But still, whoever fights zombies with a knife of
some kind is either desperate or stupid.
About time to leave the bakery, something caught my eye which caused me to stop. It
was a shiny thing, and shiny things grab my attention, apparently. First the fridge,
now this thing...which is a pocket watch. Really, first a knife, then a pocket watch?
What kind of person was this?
I picked up the watch and found that it was there only recently. There wasn’t any
dust on it, unlike the counters and such in this kitchen. It had a strange insignia
on the hood, of some sort of dragon, in a strange hexagram surrounding it. I tried to
open it, but it was sealed shut. Well, maybe I can get it open eventually. Putting
the watch in my blazer pocket, and hooking it to my shirt, I left the bakery still
So I wandered around town, always cautious for zombies. Also feeling awfully lonely.
I don’t remember if I have a family, but if I do – or did – they’re most
likely zombie bait by now. If they are, I don’t know how I escaped them,
but...whatever, I’m here. By the threads of my shredded skirt. I wish I had someone
to talk to, I really do. I WAS kind of hoping I’d at least have a boyfriend before
I died...because my death is looming over me. I’m... not really a fighter. Yeah,
you know you’re not going to last long when you can’t fight zombies in a zombie
apocalypse. I mean, I’ll try, but I feel my life won’t last.
As I continued wandering around, looking for non-infected life and some good food, I
pulled the picket watch and attempted to force it open again. I held it up to my ear,
trying to listen for ticking. There wasn’t any noise in it, and it didn’t seem to
have ticked in a long time. Fidgeting with it, I found that the reason it wouldn’t
open was that the lid appeared to be melted onto the actual watch. Why someone in
their right mind would do that, I don’t know, but... it’s pointless. What’s the
point of carrying around a pocket watch if you don’t even use it to tell the time?
How did they melt it anyways? I’m guessing its silver, and I don’t know if you
can melt silver that easily. Well, what do I know? Maybe it’s the most easy-to-melt
metal out there. I wouldn’t know...why do I care anyways? I’m in a zombie
apocalypse. I really should be more worried about keeping my ass safe first. Putting
away the shiny pocket watch, I continue on, looking for some sort of edible food.
Ugggghhhh, I still haven’t eaten anything. It’s been a few hours of wandering,
but there’s literally nothing in this town. I don’t remember anything more
either. I’m too hungry to care. I’ve gotten so hungry; I don’t even feel my
stomach anymore. I’ve lost track of where I’m going, but I see a large building
ahead of me, with silhouettes of what looks like airplanes. Oh, an airport. Maybe
there’ll be something there. Despite my hunger, I started to dash for the port of
the air, hoping that maybe the zombies would’ve left the food there alone. So after
dashing for about another half – hour, I finally get to the landing strip, out of
breath. Yeah, apparently, I’m not very fit either. One more reason I won’t
survive long in this apocalypse. Before heading into the building for a hope of a
coffee shop or something, I sit down by the side of the strip and the long-abandoned
airplanes to regain my breath. While sitting there, I pulled out that watch again and
started examining it more thoroughly. On the back of it, there was a thin engraved
name which was hard to decipher. I can make out E---ar- -lr-c, but it’s all screwed
up. I wonder if I can make anything else out...
I swung around, scared out of my boots. A middle-sized axe landed on the ground hard,
being held by a shorter-than-me- schoolgirl also wearing a pretty shredded school
uniform. Her hair was darker-brown than mine, and curly beyond any hair I could
imagine. Her eyes looked hazel from what I can tell, and they were filled with anger.
From the looks of it, she was recently in a fight, and was struggling similarly to
me. However, in the anger I could see, there was a caring impression behind the scowl
as well. She said nothing as our eyes hit each other, but it was clear that there was
something there. Something I wasn’t sure of, sure, but something.