This is Alfred's point of view during the deadly zombie apocalypse and how he comes to terms with killing his own people. He isn't his cheery self because he's suffering from some mild depression. This will be very violent with descriptions of the dead so if you don't like that or have a weak stomach don't read, thank you. Leave me feedback and I'll try to update every two days or maybe even daily.
The blonde male inhaled the smoke that kept him sane as he peered through the cracks of the window barricade. It was fucking filthy out there, everyone seemed possessed, it has been told that their soul proceeds to the dead and they become dead, no emotion or compassion. And Alfred could clearly see that, their flesh hanging from their limbs, and eyes bloodshot. He had faced many wars but the blood he saw here was different...as if it couldn't be blood from a human.
What if the ones he cared about got infected? What if they carried this incurable virus? With the cigarette kept between his lips he rubbed his temples to relax himself. These thoughts could make any man go insane, and to be honest, he believed he reached that point at times. Alfred has been on the run for a few days straight without much rest so this house served as a miracle. If he didn't find this house in time, he would have been a goner. Just like each one of those people.
In a short span of ten minutes he's on to his third cigarette with no care in the world. It looks like he has been a heavy smoker his whole life but when there's no ray of light, who do you turn to? There was no alcohol around to calm him down so he turned to cigarettes. Cigarettes were unfortunately, his drug. On the other hand he hasn't seen his family in a while, Matthew in particular. And even if he didn't want to he prayed that he was with Francis because if he wasn't he'd be dead. He'd be on the other side and Alfred believed he belonged there when he was in life and death situations. But he's the hero and the hero can't die or else everyone else will die too. And if everyone dies, there will be no story to tell. All of humanity will perish in a mere 2 years, maybe even 1.
He took a seat in the old chair beside the boarded up window, where a small night stand took the form of a small throne, and that's where he placed up all the leftover buds. They all looked like him, old and abused. Both his skin and lips were pale, his breath smelled very depressing just like him and his hair was out-of-place because he hasn't showered in days. The lack of sleep caused his eyes to look bloodshot when it hit the light, though it was noticeable when he came into contact with someone. That was very unlikely. Today marked the fifth day without sleep, in conditions like these who would want to sleep?
Each time he had to look for food he was quick on his feet but today out of all days he dragged himself to the door and peered through the crack once again. It was early in the morning and the zombies all seemed to have their attention elsewhere so he could easily run past them. That wasn't the case because he regretted the thought of finding something to eat. He was clearly starving and that still didn't drive his body to complete the action. Instead, he walked over to the door, picked up is bat and walked out slowly. Quietly shutting the door behind him he was on the move in a matter of seconds.
There was a supermarket in sight and he couldn't help but grin. "There has to be food in there." He whispered to himself. The front was closed off so he decided to check the back, maybe the owner left that opened and to his surprise, it was open, and he smiled. Leaping over the small broken window he adjusted his landing once he was inside. The store looked thrashed but he managed to spot cereal and a few other foods in stock.
Click. Click.
Alfred heard the reload of a gun .
Turning his head slightly he noticed a woman right beside him, her small pistol placed to his head and her finger on the trigger.
"And you are?" She questioned with raised eyebrows.
"Just an ordinary guy looking for food, look, I don't want to hurt you, just let me take some food and I'll go." Both of them kept contact until her eyes frantically examined his entire body, taking in the sight of a good-looking man in an apocalypse, weird huh?
"Just shut up." She whispered but enough for him to hear until she kicked him in the nuts. He automatically fell to the floor and grasped his manhood and she proceeded to grab his bat from the floor beside him , her eyes darting as she dug in his pockets. All she found was his wallet with family pictures and credit cards that probably wont work anymore, she took them without hesitation.
Moments later she stood there with her gun in her pocket as she read the information on his driver's license, his credit cards and the small notes in script on his family pictures. But that was her biggest mistake. He knew he could catch her off guard and had to do it if he wanted to stay alive. Quickly getting up he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her on to the ground as he forced himself on top of her body. She struggled to get a hold of her gun and that's when he backhanded the side of her face, instantly knocking her out.
He saw the scar on her neck, and frowned. She probably tried to commit years ago as the scar didn't go away. Her skin was soft too, you could see the creases in her clothing, the scars on her arms which meant she recently took a shower. She had water somewhere and most of all, supplies. He stood up and stretched his arms, taking in her scent as he took all she had and was acquainted with what was his. When she woke up he was sure to keep her body pinned down.
"Tell me where you keep your fucking supplies and I'll leave you in peace." He threatened.
"What do you mean supplies asshole? There aren't any!" She yelled in his face and he covered her mouth.
"Don't fucking yell at me bitch, I need to get the things I came for, either you help me or I'll cut you off." He whispered in her ear before she head butted him, sending his face to the side. He sported a nice bruise on his nose. A bump that started to get its own shade of color in a matter of seconds.
She then spit in his face, and he punched the side of her head, hard enough to knock her out once more but not very damaging. That's what he thought.
The sound of boxes falling in a distance made him realize, they weren't alone. The zombies already found out where he went.
"Shit." He mumbled as he rushed through the aisle, scavenging all that was on the shelves. He ran away from the sounds of scuffling and growling and into to the employees room, where the girl kept all of her things. She had everything ranging from clothing to medical supplies, and he had to take them all. He had mixed emotions of the situation, he felt bad that he left her to die but she didn't trust him. His main intentions weren't to kill her but to keep her alive but she changed his mind.
After he filled the bags with what was needed he ran out the room and down the aisles, jetting past the zombies that tried to make their way towards him but only to fail. He had a backpack on and another on his chest. Occasionally he would slip but regained his balance and still managed to get a grip of himself before it was too late.
The zombies fought their way through the aisles, getting closer and closer but he hit one of them in the face with his bat, causing it to knock of couple down. The blood from the zombie splattered all over his face and on his glasses. He rubbed the blood off the lens and continued on to the outside world. He leaped out of the window and ran out to the bushes and trees to avoid the commotion on the street. It was the girl, she was there. But the whole half of her body it was gone... Her legs were nowhere.
That's when Alfred noticed why the zombies payed no attention to him. They found themselves their next meal. Biting at her stomach the zombies ate and ate, and soon enough her arms were gone. The blood oozed out of her stomach, and the floor, drenched in Vermilion. Then her organs, devoured.
"Damn." Alfred said in a fearful tone. He didn't want to end up like that.
He ran back home and shut the door closed. Why is this happening? He thought.
These zombies...they were still people right? They had legs that supported their weight, they had arms that supplied themselves with energy and they had eyesight. They also had a perfectly good set of ears.
But humans didn't feed off one another. They had their own kinds of food. They didn't put others at risk. They knew how to take care of each other. These little differences meant so much in the long run, it was the exact decapitation of humanity.
After having long talks with himself Alfred unloaded what he got from the supermarket and placed them all on the living room floor, examining their dates of expiration, knowing that one day, he might have one of his own...
So what do you guys think? It took me hours to complete this because I had to tweak it up and then I rewrote everything in 3rd person because I had it in 1st . But 1st person contained too much slang and it felt like I took him out of character without showing you all how he changed. Basically instead of changing the character, I erased everything and started from scratch. That doesn't seem right does it? I'm still trying to improve my writing and I'll use more transition words in my next chapter. I don't know about pairings to choose now or who's he going to end up with so throw in suggestions. Other than that, see you next time! (=^-^=)
-Chuhiro