Wednesday, August 10th, 4:34pm

Wulfric's strangled breaths could be heard from miles around. His sneakers slapped the ground forcing dirt to fly around him. His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to explode. How long had he been running now? Several minutes; hours maybe. All he knew was that if he stopped running, he would join them. They would take all of him and turn what was left into something that craved others.

The streets passed by like a dark scenery slideshow. His body shivered; school uniforms were not things to run in, especially in the Autumn. Cold air constantly rushed into him, making him shiver and stifling his movements. He wanted to stop. Oh God, he wanted to stop, but he couldn't. He could still hear the roars and the moans echo from behind him. They were walking, no, shuffling towards him, but he knew they would never get tired of hunting him. They would grab him and tear him apart, piece by bloody piece, feasting on his moist flesh.

No. He had to stop. He just couldn't take it anymore. If he ran any longer, his lungs would destroy themselves and his heart would burst. His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings; there was a dank alley just a few meters away. Feeling a small new strength burst into his system, he sprinted and turned into the corner, where he screeched to a halt. He couldn't catch his breath; the taste of his blood tainted his mouth. He sat in the corner of the alleyway in fetal position, hoping and praying that the beasts couldn't see. The Alleyway led into a dead end. If any of them were to come in there would be no way out.

They passed by the entryway. He held his breath.

The first thing to hit him was the smell. They reeked of blood, rotten moldy flesh, and death. Their moans and raspy roars filled his heart with fear; There was an odd gurgling in their throats. They bumped into each other, knocking each other aside blindly as they shuffled past. The first one past by as if nothing had been seen or heard. The next two passed by the the same ease. More and more passed; Wulfric finally began to think that he was in the clear.

His throat seized and entered a coughing fit. His breath had been held too long. He froze, cold sweat going down his system. Everything had gone silent. He couldn't hear the dead anymore; maybe they had all shuffled away. But then the shuffling continued on seconds later. It sounded much closer this time. Wulfric turned his head, his eyes widening.

One of them had come into the alley.

It was the body of a policemen, probably an old veteran. His skin had been burned to his closed, dark red splotches were etched into the worn fabric. To think that everything on the creature looks so old despite him looking decently fresh turned. He stumbled along, his head drooping, blood, drool, and green colored vomit dripping from its lips.

He couldn't help it. The moment the beast entered his sanctuary, he shot up, his body erect and alert. He flattened himself against the wall, hoping to blend in, maybe even, silly as a thought as it may be, become part of it. His heart beat faster and faster as the monster stepped in a zig-zag formation closer to him.

Everything froze. He was right in front of him! He could smell the rot and decay in his mouth; the blood and tissue suggesting that his first meal was not to long ago. How Wulfric didn't gag was a mystery to him.

The monster turned to face Wulfric. They were almost nose to nose. The monster opened its mouth, and slumped over. Wulfric edged himself away just in time to miss him slamming onto the wall, and stared as it started slapping the wall, wiping its gore-filled, grimy fingers all over the cement. He shivered as a fingernail chipped off completely, and fell on his shoe.

Wulfric refused to move. His body simply would let him. His eyes scanned the dead-man's body for anything that may be useful. He saw a police baton hanging gingerly out of its holster, handcuffs still firmly connected to its belt, and a pistol that was still in its holster. Two out of three could save his life. He knew from tossing bricks at them that they couldn't feel a thing. All he had to do was be careful.

Painfully slowly, he crept over to the thrashing monster, and slid his hand into the baton holder, due to it being much closer. The beast twitched. Wulfric froze. After several agonizingly slow seconds, the beast continued its flurry against the wall. He let out a quiet sigh of relief, and pulled the baton out of its belt. He put his new found baton in his own belt loop, and went for its gun. Without touching the beast, he managed to get a successful hold on the gun. He smiled and tugged softly. It didn't budge. He tried again, harder this time, but it wouldn't move. No doubt, it had been jammed inside the holster by the poor, desperate policeman who was trying to get that shot in before he was eaten alive.

That didn't matter now. He needed that gun. And he needed it now!

Wulfric wormed his other hand to its guns handle, and he tugged once again as hard as he could. Snap! The entire belt came undone, taking the undead with it. To Wulfric's horror, the beast tumbled into him and there he lie, on top of him. The beast knew he was there right at that point, and he began to push forward, biting the air. He tried to push it back, but it was so strong that there was no point. He drew nearer and nearer to his neck.

"Get.. get off of me!" Wulfric shouted, his adrenaline shooting his muscles up. He pushed it back harshly, though it still bent forward. Wulfric, in his desperation noticed something; a combat knife sticking out of its pant-pocket, knocked out by his ferocity. With one last burst of strength, he grabbed the knife and stabbed it into its forehead, spraying blood and brain matter everywhere. He went rigid, spasmed, and flopped down on top of him, limp.

Wulfric was breathing hard, pushing the body off him. He was still, just laying there for something more to happen. But there was nothing but the silence of the setting sun. Even the fury of the protesters had died down. Everything became muffled as he lay there.

Was he breathing? Could he breath? Was he even alive right now, at this very moment? Who knew. Maybe he had been bitten and had already turned, watching his new existence from the eyes of a dead soul. No. He could feel the cold gravel at his back, he could still smell the dead next to him. He was very alive, there was no doubt about that.

He closed his eyes and began to think. In a day, a singular day, everything changed. How can things change so fast? It's unheard of! His body was exhausted from the many hours he had to run. He could rest here, couldn't he. He certainly was no snorer, and the chances of an undead monster coming to get him was slim.

Wulfric let his head flop to the side where he saw the undead monster. Right in the base of his forehead, a knife wound was all too apparent. A thin line of blood trailed down. He swore he saw a maggot or two drop out it him and fester to the ground. He growled in distaste and rolled over, closed his eyes once more, and fell asleep.

Tuesday, August 9th, 12:26 pm

The scenery outside was always beautiful. In class, it gave him something more to focus on. Bored was never a good look for the young man. He loathed it. Class provided nothing but the very thing he loathed. That's why he always took a window seat. The environment was right there, and it was dazzling. Whether it was the wicked storms, snowy grounds, bright and sunny gardens, or just the plain street, he could at it for hours. The reason never came to him but he wasn't thinking about that. What he was thinking about was how much better the scenery would look if it wasn't covered in blood.

Dripping crimson was splattered all along the windowsill. Wulfric hid just under it, out of sight, out of mind. The fear of them made him stay there for nearly an hour now. In the first ten minutes since a single one of them got in, the entire school had erupted into chaos. Wulfric couldn't even tell what truly destroyed the school. Them, or his fellow students who ran rampant in the halls, screaming for dear life. In those ten minutes, the school had been overrun. From his knowledge, no student had made it out alive. Some still may have been alive in the school, but that wouldn't last long. Somehow, he just knew.

His previously discarded blazer was soaked in blood. Leaving it behind felt like the smart decision. Who knows what kind of disease they had. Then again, he couldn't tell how much blood was really theres. The students mad dash to the exit ended up killing a few of them. Some were trampled, other bitten by what they couldn't see, and some straight up killing others so they could be first to the exit. It didn't matter though. Those who did manage to make it ended up eaten alive as a group of them had grouped just outside the door, ready for anyone stupid enough to let them in.

With a box cutter in one hand, and blood in the other, he had managed to learn about them. First, wounds never work. You have to strike them in the head, or burn them to finally kill them. Second, there blind. He had no idea why, but they were. Noises were the only things that drew them. They couldn't seem to feel either, going hand-in-hand with not wounding them. Lastly, their strength is absolutely absurd. While they couldn't seem to muster anything more than a stumble, it made their strength even more astounding. On single grip, and it's all over. He's seen that happen too many times today.

His own condition didn't bother him. No. His main priority was his sister and his girlfriend, who were spending time together in the park. School had let out early for her, and she said she would gladly do it for him, bless her heart. What if the park had been hit? Wulfric shuttered, eyes stinging. He couldn't bear thinking about that.

The door creaking open kicked his thoughts out the window. There, one of them stepped in. One of the students. An acquaintance to him actually. What was his name again? Roger? Reggie? It didn't matter, and it hurt having to think that. He was gone now. The shell that remained hungered for him. Wulfric looked closer, hoping the boy was just sick, but he saw how pale he was, and how much blood was on his person. The smell didn't help either. He stumbled in, moaning, and slamming his face into the doorframe.

Careful not to make a sound, he crept down towards the exit, staying as low as possible. At the very least, even if he was found, he would be able to trip it, and run. He kept moving until a small crack at his feet made him freeze. The zombie turned to him, and lumbered forward towards the noise. Thinking fast, Wulfric slid to the side, barely making a sound. It seemed to work as the zombie just stood their, confused.

After regaining his breath, he managed to make it to the door frame, happy at his own success.

Ring Ring Ring!

"Shit." He hissed under his breath. His phone? Now of all times.

With little time to waste, he slammed the door, sprinted to the zombie, and drove the knife through the back of his skull. He managed to miss the torrent of blood that followed. The zombie froze, twitched and fell to the floor in a massive heap. A loud snap echoed as he fell. Wulfric pulled his knife out pretty easily, or at least he thought he did. The blade had snapped in half, the other half still buried deep in the zombies skull.

"Damn, cheap knives." He grumbled. His hand darted for his phone and answered instantly. "Hello?"

"Wolf? Oh my God, are you alright?" His girlfriend Lora asked, concern dripping from her voice. Wulfric sighed in relief.

"Just fine, Lory. Just hanging in there." Wulfric replied, trying to sound as confident as possible. "Are you guys okay? What happened?"

"Were fine. An evacuation truck managed to pick us up. Were on our way to a military base not too far from here. They said it's Safehouse B."

"Safehouse B. Got it." He could hear a small amount of crying in the background. "Hows Mila doing?"

"She's hanging in there. Barely though. She misses you a lot. She's scared you're going to…" Her voice trailed off.

"Die?" The silence continued. "Don't worry. You know me. I can survive this. No, I will survive this, and I'll make it back to you. I promise."

"Don't make a girl a promise you can't keep." Lora said, her voice shaky. He thought he heard a small sob.

"Who said I was?" Wulfric said, confidently. "I'll find a map, and make it there. Trust me, I'll make it. I always do." Perhaps raising his voice wasn't a good idea. Zombies began slamming themselves against the door. It wouldn't be very long before it gave way. "I have to go. I'll try and keep in touch. Don't give up on me, alright?"

"A-alright. Just get over here. We're waiting for you." With that, she hung up. Wulfric sprang to his feet, picked up a chair, and shatter the window with it. He crawled out, and took off running, to where, he didn't know yet. Anywhere was better than here.

Wulfric took a deep breath, anticipation and determination filling him. If this was the world he had to fight through, then so be it. Anything it took to get back home.

Alright, time for the explaintion. This is an SYOC story with the simple goal of having a nice story with an actual ending, and a goal in general. Simple enough. If you want to submit an OC, whether a friend, villain, adult, or anyone in between, follow this...

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