Based off of a 'challenge' my friend wagered.
Character heavily refers to me, since that was the challenge. I thought instead of giving her a chance to prepare, she'd be thrown into the apocalypse while wearing awful attire. Not everybody has the chance to get ready. Most of what happens is based off of my life. Some things changed for personal reasons (family, home, etc.)
"This is so stupid." I groaned underneath my breath and crossed my arms in disappointment. Catering was never fun, especially in the outfit I had to wear. Still, it made money and that was really the only thing I cared about. At sixteen, you couldn't do much, and I had to try my best to help support my family. After my father left a year ago, things have been rather slow and painful in getting along, yet every job I found was more painful than that. Heaving a sigh, my co-worker stood beside me, our heights contradicting each other greatly.
"Why do you say that, Zo?" My six foot three inched male co-worker asked as he took a sip of his coca-cola. I glanced over at him and pursed my lips, adjusting my weight on my feet.
"Catering is so boring. It's basically like we're well dressed slaves. " My five foot three inched self answered. I hated nothing more than the outfit I had to wear when catering. The people could bother me less, and the constant running around wasn't bothersome, but my attire always put me in a slump.
Of course I had to wear a black pencil skirt (with pleats at the bottom, to make it worse), black tights, and a white, long sleeved blouse. To add to the dull dresswear, my hair had to be clipped up and straightened, and I had to wear stilleto heals all day. Groaning aloud I dropped my head against his arm, pouting.
"This is so boring..." I mumbled again. He laughed and shook his head, taking another swallow of his cold bevrage.
"Well, money's money." he responded in his most used saying (only because I always complain), making me straighten out and stared at him.
"I suppose...well, I'll be right back." Moving from my comfortable position on the wall, I made my way over to the restroom door. Resting my hand against the push and pull door with the pink figure on it, I took a small look behind me.
We were catering a birthday party at an indoor-outdoor restaurant for a family that wanted it to be special. Being rich, that family went ahead and rented out the whole place for the day, so here I was stuck...but I was getting paid and the family members did tip me...
Wouldn't it be nice if everybody just disappeared while I was in the restroom? A smile crept along my face and I pushed the door opened, entering the private area. No, I didn't actually have to use the restroom...I just needed some time to myself and this place was the only place to do it. Dropping my hands to the marble countertop, I looked into the mirror silently, staring at my haunting reflection.
"I wish things would change...at least, so I wouldn't have to work meaningless jobs anymore..." Rolling my dark eyes, I laughed a little at my silly wish. Life was life, wasn't it? And this was-sadly-apart of it. Fixing my dress shirt in the wall mirrour, I put on my best smile and went to the door.
Just gotta smile for these people.
Was my only thought before I pushed the door open only to come back to a dead empty interiour. My pace slowed down from an excited bounce to a slow, confused step.
"What the..." There was nobody. Nothing besides spilt drinks, half-eaten food, and a stale, unerving feeling in the air.
"Hello?" I called out loudly, hoping somebody would answer me. No such luck was rewarded, so I made my way to the kitchen.
"Helloooo?" I tried again, only hearing my echo amoungst pots and pans. The only other sound I heard was the click of my heels and I stalked down the small aisle, pausing when I heard a soft rustle in the back room. "Hello? Chef? Coltyn? The Spaulding party?" Still no response. Swallowing coldly, I picked up a pan on my way towards the opened doors, glancing across the room at the assortment of knives. No...going over there and coming back may alert the thing in the other room.
"Mr. McGuire?" I tried my bosses last name-nothing. Drawing into the doorway, I stood still, looking into the dark room. Slowly dragging my hand along the wall I found the lighswitch and flicked it in the 'On' position. The light filled the room and there was blood painted along all four of the walls and storage shelves. Bodies were sprawled along the floor and one single person was in the middle, snacking on the insides of what looked like William Spaulding. My eyes grew large and the bulb blew out as I backed away from the doorway in fear. I heard the rattle of the metal shelves before the forsake body of my former co-worker stumbled out, blood pooling from his mouth, his skin a sickish grey shade.
"Coltyn!" I shouted, hoping this was just a joke. "This isn't funny!" He made a disembodied noise and sprinted forward towards me, showing no sign of slowing down. Adrenaline paced through my body and I swung the pan, smacking him in the face as he drew less than a foot from me. The noise rang through and I heard the crack of what I assumed was his nose breaking as the body slumped to the floor. I knew he wasn't dead, and I didn't have much time to get out, so I hurried over to the palette of knives that sat plainly in the kitchen. Panting, I set the frying pan down and picked up the Butcher's knife quickly. Glancing behind me, I looked forward again and took a rag, wrapping the knife in it and searching through the drawers for a rubber band of some sort. I hurried myself and found one in a Misc. drawer, tying it around the wrapped up knife and tucking it into the top of my skirt. Picking up the frying pan again, I stumbled over to the kitchen door and looked at the body of my undeadish co-worker begin to rise. Swallowing in fear, I hurried out of the area and back into the main restaurant section. Putting the pan down once more, I pulled tables over in front of the door that separated the kitchen from the area I was currently in. Haulting a few times to catch my breath, I struggled to pull the heavy furniture over, only managing to get one table in front as opposed to a few which I had originally wanted.
"Good enough." I told myself in a shakey voice and lifted the pan once more, making my way towards the front door in a slight panick. Holding the small pan in one hand, I set my other against the woodened frame and looked around me. Was there anything else I could possibly use?
My body shrunk away from the door and I moved over to the counter, hoping over the top of it carefully. Bending to my knees, I looked through the shelved and pulled out a small radio Coltyn had always brought along to work in case we ever got bored. My smile faded when I remembered the conversation I had with him earlier to work:
"So you're bringing your radio to work, right?" I questioned as the two of us walked along the road. Coltyn looked over at me with his hands in his pockets.
"Of course I am. Just remind me to replace the batteries. Things nearly dead." he told me firmly. I nodded.
"Of course. I won't forget!"
I forgot. Oops. Still, it was worth a try. Swallowing, I turned it on and waited impatiently through the static.
"Outbreak...evacuation...Mercy-" the sound broke quickly and I hit the device a few times, only to gain no such luck.
Outbreak? Of what? The undead? And where the fuck was I suppose go to? I didn't know any place that had the word 'mercy' in it. Heaving a disappointed sigh, I jumped back over the counter top and quietly moved to the door.
"I guess I'll head back to my apartment and see what I can do about this..." Gripping the pan, my expression changed to determination and confidence...that is, until I heard a loud BANG from behind me. Gasping, I escaped through the door quickly, leaving behind every childish thought I once knew about the world.
Now was where my life was put to the test. Now was where things became serious.
Heeey. So, my friend had said 'I wish somebody could make a good self insert.'
My response? 'Challenge accepted.' So here's where we put my creativity to the test. After I finish this, I think I'll make another one, but throw her in with the Left 4 Dead 2 Survivors and see how far my creative eye can go.
How fun.
Not creative with names so I'm using my name, Zoey. But for the story wise: Soapy. Stfu.
-Miss Soapy