A/N: This is my first posted story so forgive me if it's not that good. I've been obsessed with Walking Dead since the season three premiere when I spent the whole weekend watching the seasons I missed. The current hiatus has made me sad so I wrote this.
Disclaimer: Sadly I own nothing. Walking Dead is owned by someone else. Though Scarlet is mine.
Cannibal chickens start the apocalypse.
This all started when I watched a show. One of the people on it raised chickens. They fed the chickens a mix of things. Sometimes even chicken. Thus the cannibal chickens were created. Thus the zombie apocalypse began. All because of some crazy guy with chickens.
My name is Scarlet. I'm nineteen, or at least I was when this began. A few weeks ago, I think, the world ended quite catastrophically. The majority of the population died thanks to zombies. Yes you heard me right. The world was ended in zombies. And it's not like on TV or in the movies. It began with chickens. Chickens of all creatures. It quickly spread from a single family and moved across the world. I'm not sure how it made it across the ocean but it did. Probably those damned scientists insisting they study the new disease. Well in my expert opinion, yes I can be called an expert, they were idiots. Now there seems to be no place left on Earth that is untouched. And even if it is, it doesn't always go well. In the new world there are many threats. The zombies, the weather, starvation, thirst, and survivors. Sometimes the survivors were the worst. At least the zombies can be killed with minimal guilt depending on who you are. The living people are harder because there's only so many of us left in this hell. Maybe I should tell you a little more about this world before I go all depressed on you.
There's many classifications of people, dead and undead, nowadays. Of course there's the zombies or more affectionately called Chomps. Then there's the people who have no clue what they're doing. I call them Fleshies because they seem to lose their flesh quickly. If you're a Soon then you might as well take a bullet to the head. A Soon is what you become if one of those things infects you. If they do and you can't amputate in time, then you're a goner. There's Kooks who are the crazy people who get you killed by screaming all the time or being mentally unstable. The other survivors who are a threat to you are called Monsters, short and simple. The name explains itself. Last but not least there's people like me, Drifters. We were outcasts in the world before. Now we seem to be surviving a little better, I think it's the fact that we know how to survive on little. When you're catatonically shy you figure out how to survive on the last few things in your cupboards.
Luckily for me I had gone to the grocery store the day before the end. I sat glued in front of the TV for the next few days. Enthralled by the horror stories that were flocking the news channels and sites. I glanced around my apartment several times, thrilled that I was considered crazy by the majority of people. I had invested in my own generator, fuel, and weapons when I first moved. I didn't live in the best city, it was safer to be prepared then be killed. Plus I had reinforced my doors and windows years ago. I had taken a bat to them several times and done nothing. So I was safe unless I let someone in or went out for food.
Watching the world actually end was nothing like I thought it would be like. It was a frightening experience. The thought that I could die any moment was depressing. So I distracted myself with books for as long as I could. I had recently raided the library so I was good for a while. And I had all my favorites already. So I sat and read with my giant dog and fluffy cat. They were my constant companions throughout the screams and sirens. They were both part wild so I knew they would stick with me if we had to run.
It was days before I had any actual human contact. My family had all died years ago. That's why I was on my own. Otherwise I would be with them. Yet I was sitting with a book when someone knocked on my door. There was an actual knock on my door. I think I didn't move for a few moments after that. Thinking I had finally begun hallucinating.