ApocalypseStuck

by or-so-help-me

Your name is John Egbert, and it's the end of the world. Well, technically, the end of half the population of Earth. Same difference. Right? Yes, ApocalypseStuck. I do not know or care how many times it's been done before, it's happening again. Rated T for swearing, violence, and possible make outs.

1. Prologue

Hello all! This is the beginning of a (hopefully) pretty long-running series. It was based off a group chat that was absolutely beautiful, and most of what happened is in here. I do not know nor do I care how many times this has been done before :D

I, sadly, do not own any characters in this story.

~0~8~0~

Your name is John Egbert, and you are trying to remind yourself to keep running.

But really, what's the point? You just saw half your family get ripped apart by zombies. You should just throw yourself down on the ground right now and wait for them to find you too. It would definitely be better than trying to survive without them, right? Right?

You stop and think about it. But you are too scared. You are a wimp and a baby and an awful, horrible, human being, but you are too scared. So you keep running. You keep running, and you cry.

Baby. Your older brother's voice chants in your head. What a baby. Couldn't even take my hand. Could've come with me y'know. Could've made off into the woods and lived together, but no. You were too scared of the 'monsters' standing in front of you. What a baby.

Your grip on the blue backpack slung over your shoulder tightens. I am NOT A BABY! YOU were the one who ran off and left me to die! If you were a TRUE brother, you would've helped me! You would've saved me! You would've found a way! I could be dead right now for all you know, and you didn't even try to help me.

Now you're having fights with an imaginary voice in your head. Way to go, John, keep it up. That's how you keep your sanity during the motherfucking apocalypse. Good job.

You sigh and slow to a walk. Should be enough distance now. Between you and the rest of your, now undead, family. You start to tear up again, but your self-indulgent is cut short the moment it starts by your foot being ripped from underneath you. A trident is pointed inches from you face. You gulp.

Your name is John Egbert and you are now dangling upside down.

~0~8~0~

Phew! Okay, prologue DONE! Constructive criticism would be incredibly appreciated, as I am still new to publishing my fics! Also, I'm sorry if the spacing is off, I write in Word and cannot stand everything being smushed together.