Hey guys! I had originally gotten this account to read and follow a friend of mine's stories and asked myself, why not write a few stories of my own? And since I looooove zombies, I started with this one(:

Any advice you may have on my story is appreciated, but, please, be kind with your critiques. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

I have a couple of future ideas in mind and, much like the SYOT stories of the Hunger Games, would enjoy it if any of you would submit a character to take part in the quest for survival with Serenity Anne and Leum. All I would need to know is names, age, personality, and weapon of choice.

I hope you enjoy my story and give me some reviews to let me know what ya think. Now, let's start smashing zombie skulls!

Being born and raised in the metropolitan area, I've never really taken much notice to people who, how should I put this… are a little on the insane side. I myself have a few quirks about me, but I've learned to accept those and everyone else's'. You would think, however, that if anyone started ripping their own flesh off you would notice, but not this chick. It wasn't until 3 days into the infection that I began to notice something strange going on. I knew the moment my best friend, Leum, who's the kind of guy that apologizes to inanimate objects, looked me straight in the eyes with a cold daze, cocked his head to the side, and began taking vicious lunges at me that the world was experiencing a grave new beginning. I don't take it personal. He was just doing what any good zombie would do to survive. It's just a terrible shame that a guy who can swallow a lemon whole without flinching wastes his fifteen minutes of fame being a skin muncher before blacking out to a hit on the back of the head with a desk lamp.

But don't worry. I didn't kill Leum. Instead, I took advantage of his unconscious state and found some zip ties, a muzzle, and perfume (he was starting to take this whole 'corpse' thing too seriously) and gave him the proper restraints necessary for a captive zombie to have. I also got him the child leash backpack my mom uses for our overly active members of the family when they come to visit. It was a good thing I acted when I did too, because right after I adjusted the backpack to fit Leum snuggly, he tried coming at me without much warning.

I suppose that this would be a good time to tell you a little more about myself and why I couldn't just kill Leum. Leum, as I mentioned early, is my best friend. And there is no way I could end my best friend's life (even if he's still not considered living)! We have too much history and if I'm going to survive whatever this situation has for me, I can't do it alone or I'll go crazy. So, Leum stays. Luckily, I have the capability of taking care of both of us. I might be a girl, but only due to biology; not habits or interests. Ever since the fifth grade when the neighbor's Yorkie left bloody bite marks on my ankles when I was trying to get the mail, I've taken an interest in weapons. Not a creepy kind of interest, mind you, but an interest that left me… intrigued. I started collecting several types of blades, spears, and I just turned 18 last month so I now owned a beautiful 9mm Beretta. I had always believed that these items would come in handy one day, and when better to be armed than during the apocalypse?

After a little tussle, Leum finally cooled his jets and accepted the fact that he wasn't going to be able to eat my brains, at least not today.

"Well Leum," I said. "What are we to do now?"

"Grrghh," Leum moaned.

"You're right; we should go check on my parents."

I tied Leum's leash around a kitchen table leg and left him to go gather the essentials. A backpack, first aid kit, some rope, a blanket, my knives and Beretta along with my box of ammo, bottled water, and some snacks. I would have packed Leum some snacks as well, but I didn't really know what was appropriate for a zombie to eat besides brains, and since there weren't any brains lying around, I decided that we could deal with that later. I had just stuffed the last of the essentials into my bag when I noticed this glowing goo all over my window. It wasn't even the fact that this slim was glowing that was weird, but that it was causing the glass to sizzle. I walked over to the window to observe. My reflection soon morphed and bubbled and began making its way down to my bedroom floor and didn't stop burning through things till it reached my dirty clothes.

"Strange, I'll have to stay away from any of that," I noted to myself.

I was still processing my findings when I heard a hug crash downstairs. I grabbed my backpack and bolted down to the kitchen to discover that Leum, not being his polite and bashful self, had thrown himself (and the table) out the kitchen window. Maybe it wasn't so smart to leave a hungry zombie alone? It was at that moment it dawned on me that my mother's cat, Mr. Flufferkins (she named it), was outside and when I rushed out the door to find Leum, I soon realized what had happened to said feline.

"Mmmrgh," Leum growled while chewing on what was left of Mr. Flufferkins' tail. There was blood all over him and on the patio. It was obvious that Mr. Flufferkins had put up a fight because Leum's right arm had deep scratches and bite marks on it that would have caused any normal human being to wince, but Leum was clearly no ordinal human being. I took note that his arm wasn't dripping with blood either. There were, however, a couple of crimson drops forming from the marks. I assumed that that was because the blood was still in his system, just not pumping any more since he no longer had a beating heart.

"How did you get out of that muzzle?" I said as I put it quickly back on him. "We will have to get a lock on that thing as soon as possible. The good thing, though, is that I don't have to worry about feeding you anytime soon."

"Eeergh," Leum retorted.