A casual glance from the sky, looking down onto the city of London would present to you the crowded streets which appear to be bustling with activity like any average day in the capital of England. Until the commotion from the streets below rises to meet your own ears… A chorus of thousands upon thousands shrieking in utter terror- some of which are cut short by blood coming forth from lungs corrupted- intertwining with a frenzy of erratic gunfire at an unseen enemy which creates a demonic otherworldly melody when adding the feral, animal snarls and guttural moans of the undead.
Yes my friend, the dead are not exactly dead anymore…
This is no longer the sweet propaganda of Hollywood screens this is the real deal. They may appear to be 'actors' to someone of a non-intellectual nature but in truth they are walking corpses. And they will stop at nothing to take a bite out of you and inevitably turn you into the undead or the other possibility is they just keep eating you until you are nothing but a bloody pulp.
Have I got your attention now reader?
Here's some advice to you dubious survivors who still doubt my perception of reality; those corpses are not actors or special effects from the movies, they are real corpses coming to rip you to shreds because they have an insatiable thirst for blood and flesh- especially yours. Those 'things' are dead (kind of) and they'd be all too happy to help you spill your innards across the floor so they get an all you can eat finger buffet. The sooner you get that into your spell bound, thick as lead brains, the more likely you will survive this living nightmare.
Grab a weapon –not a fork trust me some people tried a fork…- and be ready to swing with all your might, as only severe trauma to the brain or severing of the spinal cord (decapitation) will stop the undead taking a good chunk out of you and dooming you to become one of them.
Simple. It's you or them. Decide.
I growl at the shambling corpse that is approaching me at an alarming rate; I raise my steel baseball bat poising it ready to strike the monstrosity that was once my neighbour. Crouching low, I run towards my undead neighbour before suddenly leaping into the air before sharply swinging my baseball bat down onto her cranium. A sickening crunch echoes from within her as she collapses to the pavement. Dead, never to rise again. Blood seeps from her skull soaking the ground. But this blood seems different. In the sunlight it has a green hue to it… I shudder inwardly at the thought of what could alter the very thing that grants all things life. Never mind that! I tear my eyes away from her corpse and scan my surroundings directly in front of me and beside me but not behind me. I can't see anyone or anyTHING else.
That was my first mistake right there.
A deep guttural moan sounds out from behind me, freezing I rigidly turn to be almost face to face with a male zombie… Jumping backwards I let out a shriek as I slip on my neighbours –definitely dead- body just to land on my backside in the street. Scrambling to get up, I slip again which means I am too slow to get up before the zombie pounces on me pinning me to the floor. Rancid drool drips from its mouth and onto my neck; its breath so vile and stinking of death I almost throw up. I cringe as the hot infected saliva rolls down my neck, trying not to cry out in panic instead I clamp my mouth shut to prevent me drawing more walkers. I squeeze my eyes shut preparing myself for my impending doom. I whimper which just drives him into a further frenzy.
My mind races as I become truly aware of my situation I am in. In minute or less I will be bit… NO I won't! Reaching up with my free hand I grab the zombies chin and push its head away from my neck and he pushes against me. Damn. I exert more force, grunting with the effort I free my other hand and begin pushing with renewed strength and ultimately he ends up on the floor and away from me.
Panting, I scramble to my feet whilst grabbing my baseball bat and stand facing all of my assailants. 5 in total. Shouldn't be too hard right? I grip the handle until my knuckles turn white, my eyes flare with hatred for these monstrosities who have destroyed many people's lives and taken loved ones from them. I scream in defiance at them. Fuckers you have no right to take people's lives and subject them to an undying hunger! A single tear rolls down my cheek. I'm not your dinner; I'm your very own grim reaper. Your time has come. Crouching low yet again I run towards the 5 undead that are snarling at me furiously for defying them a meal (especially the one that nearly got a chunk out of me)… THWACK! The first is downed in one. I dart to my left to take another two down. THWACK THWACK THWACK! Two down with three hits not bad, I timed one of my strikes too early therefore only hit them on the shoulder but I quickly amend that. Three down two to go. THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK. The last one I hit repeatedly taking my anger out on the lifeless vessel almost as if to make it repent for its sins.
I stumble away from the corpse shaking uncontrollably as the adrenaline leaves my body I just killed six people… No not people, things… but I can't help but wonder is there humanity still there? Are they just buried beneath the infection that makes them crave human flesh? I just don't know anymore.
If you were looking from the sky above the once grand city of London, you would see roaring flames engulfing a third of the city, chucking black putrid smoke into the atmosphere above. You could see the sun setting within the blaze as if the flames where enough to engulf even the immensity of the sun… but before you look away you would see a lone 16 year old girl, splattered in gore and a metal object in her hand glinting in the setting sun. London has fallen. The dead are howling in their graves for your flesh. The end is nigh.
Who will survive?
Yawning I stretch my heavy limbs as I awake from an apocalyptic nightmare… I glance across at my digital clock; the luminescent green numbers flash 09:38 at me. Eugh. It's Saturday and I'm awake before 12pm… This sucks. Instead of retreating back into the realm of dreams, I decide to shuffle to the bathroom to freshen up because for some unknown reason I felt extremely dirty… Upon entering the bathroom I take a fleeting glance at the reflection in the mirror and just see a dirty blood covered teenager…
Wait.
Dirt.
Blood…
I spin around and scrutinise my reflection again. My eyes widen in horror. What is this? Where did it come from? Why in hell am I covered in blood? Heart racing, breaths quickening, and the dream floods back into my mind. But I finally realise it wasn't a dream. It was reality. A new reality that has only just begun. The apocalypse.
"FUCK!" Slamming my fist down onto the wash basin, I cry and collapse down onto the cold tiled floor. I cry my heart out at the fact I had to actually kill people. I have their blood on me still. Even whilst I slept peacefully they slept forever upon the cracked pavement. I am a monster. Bile rises in my throat threatening to choke me; I turn around to the toilet and heave. Only sickly bile comes out and my throat begins to burn.
-5 minutes later-
. I stand shakily to face my reflection once again. I shudder inwardly at the sight; I want to tear my eyes away from the eerie sight that begins to waver and alter to appear as something from the darkest recesses of my brain but I can't... The reflection snarls at me, its lip pulled back to reveal blood stained teeth with flesh hanging in between.
"NO!" I scream falling back against the wall. The spell is broken. I can't help but sob again; this time it just won't stop.
-16 minutes later-
Finally my tears dry up and I cannot cry anymore more. I am numb Forcing myself to stand I ignore the mirror and instead I robotically take off my blood covered clothing and turn the shower on as hot as it would go, almost as if to scorch the memory from my skin. It burns horribly but I freak out as I come to the realisation that I had others blood and bodily fluids on me. I scrub as hard as I can at my skin with a multitude of soaps and vehemently wash my hair with shampoos and conditioner many times… By the time I emerge from the cloud of steam I can think clearly again and most importantly I feel clean. Even if my skin is red raw and protesting at such rough treatment.
Clad only in a peach coloured towel, I wonder slowly back to my bedroom down the hall trying to come up with a logical reason why the dead come back to life and eat people. I glance down at the doorway to my bedroom and see my baseball bat that my Dad gave me from my 16th birthday... Except this time it's caked in a layer of blood and unrecognisable pieces of body tissue.
I gag, scurrying into my room and slam the door shut. That's just revolting.
Time to get dressed because if it is a reality then I never know when the dead could come knocking and I don't fancy trying to fend for myself in a towel… Opening my wardrobe I scan the interior only to find my usual attire which is black cloth tracksuit bottoms and a variety of tank tops and most importantly my good old hoodies. I pull out a pair of tracksuit bottom, a red tank top and obviously a black hoodie. Next I reach into my draw and pull out the essential underwear (I won't bore you with details) and begin to dress myself.
Once I'm dressed I again wonder to the bathroom to sort out my hair. From my reflection you would see a plain simple beauty with peachy skin which is covered with a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, lips pulled into a tight line with hazel eyes which make her appear childlike framed by scruffy chestnut brown hair which is soon amended into a neat ponytail.
"All ready…" I mutter but what am I ready for?
5ft 4 inches in height Miya is your quite girl at school that doesn't quite fit in with any group she encounters. She would rather have her nose in a book rather than socialise which is why in her heart she is more suited to the lonely road of the only known survivor to herself. She has a long road ahead of her and will face many challenges but we don't know the outcome.
Will she survive?
