Now featuring a short little chapter fic (But not the big chapter fic I promised to release, like, months ago. Though I might give a sneak peek to see if people will actually like it.)!

This is a parody of many zombie movies and zombie stories of this very fandom. Yes, it also takes from Zombieland, which did not agree with me, leading me to not really like it.

If any of the rules seem familiar, I'll be honest: I took them a Cracked article. I wanted to write that article out in a fanfiction, and this is the result!

There will be six rules in all and I hope to finish them up quickly this winter since MY FINALS ARE DONE ON FRIDAY! ;_; This is the first rule. I have the second one done and might upload it tomorrow. Enjoy! Oh, and it's Craig's POV.

(Warning: this is a parody, in 'haha' funny. Please do not become offended, since I love zombie movies and stories but just find some to be ridiculous.)

Humanland

Rule # 18

No melee.

It's questionable to whether viruses are alive or not, but either way, they still had to bury bodies infected with Ebola. So if you have an open wound caused by your running away from me and decide to bash my friend's head in with your baseball bat, good luck with that.

I stumble over something in the dark and feel one of my rib bone break when I fall. I sigh since this is the third time it's happened. I honestly don't understand why I've not completely fallen away by now. Some kind of Hollywood magic, I guess. I push myself back up and watch this scene happening in front of me of a girl and her, I suppose, boyfriend duke it out with a buddy of mine. Well, 'buddy' used in a loose way.

The girl is covered with cuts due to mistakenly wearing shorts and bleeding a fair amount of blood on her ripped blouse. The guy has a bent baseball bat which he paired with his red baseball cap of some high school's team. Other than his cap and bat, nothing says 'high school baseball player' to me, despite the fact that he probably is, or was, one. They both have backpacks on them which, by the way, is a no-no; it's important to carry items but never carry them on your back, else we grab and pull you towards us. Plus you could get caught while crawling under a fence; I've seen it happen one too many times.

The male of the Deadnamic Duo bashes my friend's head in with a good swing. Maybe he is a baseball player. Blood splatters all over them, especially on the girl and in her cuts, if I'm allowed to focus on her. She screams out on impact and then cries. The guy goes to comfort her with the bloody bat still in his hand. As she cries into his shoulder, I roll my eyes and walk away before I'm next. But I decide to keep a close eye on them, hoping to test out my theory.

I watch them move about the city for a few days, since it didn't take too long for something interesting to happen.

They trek along in the darkness, which is another mistake. Always go out in the daylight and you'll have the upper hand in any ambushes. But mind you, not in the middle of the day. Perhaps dawn would be better. Anyways, they walk along and search around for supplies and food and water. They sleep in abandoned buildings and take rests every three hours. It's annoying to follow them for so long, but I have nothing better to do. It all goes well until Day Three.

"Rob, Rob, please, I feel so bad right now. I'm gonna throw up." She leans over, clutching her stomach tightly. Bile threatens to run up her throat and on the dry ground. She sits down and says 'screw you' to her white shorts as dust is tossed into the air. Breathing and sweating heavily, she starts to cry.

"Megan, stay with me, Baby." Robert kneels down to comfort her.

Hey, Rob, I'm gonna throw up too; comfort me.

She pushes him away and puts a hand to her mouth. "No, don't! I don't want you to die, Babe." Abruptly shooting up, Meg stumbles backward in pain and her entire body convulses. Her breathing gets heavier and louder as she keeps stumbling.

Rob backs away, still on his knees. He wants to run, but he can't leave her like this. Bad mistake, Babe.

Meg stops. Her hands fall to her sides and her eyes glaze over, making them glossy and dead. She bares her yellow teeth in a snarl and screams out a warning cry before launching herself at her boyfriend.

Rob does nothing but cry a girlish cry and fall to his back as his girlfriend kisses- I mean mauls his throat with her canines. He screams the entire time as his blood gushes on the desert floor and the sand soaks it up, thanking him for his nutrients.

I turn away; I know the feeling of wanting to stop but not be able to because of animal instincts. I know how Meg is feeling: overwhelmed, in pain, betrayed by her emotions; I should know, I've been there before, and it's a feeling I never want to experience again.

Meanwhile Rob is feeling pain. Extreme pain.

I smirk and walk away back to the city.