Haru went to an elite all-girl school, yes, but she didn't let that define who she was. She wasn't a snob, a workaholic, or an arrogant person. No, she was a bit of an airhead, upbeat, and enthusiastic.
She also really loved weird things. Weird, deformed, scary, or ugly – it didn't matter, she loved it. That was the kind of girl she was – one who liked weird (and cute, too) things. Things most of her friends would turn their noses up at. She never told anyone about it, though. It was one of the things she liked to keep behind closed doors. After all, girls like her at a school like Midori Middle didn't – or rather, shouldn't– waste time thinking things like what to do if zombies randomly stood by their classroom's doorway, or have a vast collection of zombie movies.
But then again, she along with many of her fellow classmates did not fit the elitist trope everyone seemed to love to throw their way because where they attended school. This was why, rather than paying close attention to what new math concepts her teacher was teaching to the class, she was mulling over what was the worst type of zombies. Yes, she did these things in math class. It wasn't an issue for her; math was her best subject. And if she didn't understand a concept, she could easily go to her father about it.
So she tuned out her teacher and thought of zombies.
Well, she was doing that, until someone began pounding against the door. Her teacher set her book down on her desk and opened the door – and then, her teacher screamed and blood splattered on the pristine white floors of her classroom.
…*…
Prologue.
Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse.
…*…
At first, Haru thought that they were in store for a school shooting. But that didn't make any sense – wouldn't her school have announced a lock down? Plus she hadn't heard any gun fire either...
"What the hell are they doing?" a classmate of hers, Ayumi, screeched. Her finger was pointed at their teacher's attacker, or rather, attackers. It was five or so students sporting the Midori Middle school uniform. They were hovering over the fallen body of their teacher and were…eating her?
Haru froze. They were…they were zombies weren't they? She felt sick to her stomach. They were zombies! They didn't look at all like it, though – in fact, if it were for the large missing chunks of skin that no normal person would be alive and walking around with, they'd be disregarded as perfectly healthy and cannibalistic teens eating her math teacher.
But…how? How'd they become like that? Maybe it was a synthetic plague that the government was working on that got unleashed. Hahi! Maybe it was an experiment – or voodoo priest's spell – gone awry. Or aliens.
She felt her heart beating rapidly against her chest. Her hands were slick with sweat. She wiped them on her skirt. What the heck was she doing? Why was she thinking up reason for why those teens were what they were? It didn't matter right now! What did was her getting the hell out of here – and quickly! Her teacher could only satisfy them before they went after the rest of them.
Run to the windows, her mind urged her. But she couldn't. She was, as lame as it sounded, frozen with fear. Only after the zombies slowly removed themselves from their deceased teachers did she begin to run toward the windows.
Get out, get out, get out. It was like a mantra. She yanked the window open and jumped out. They were on the first floor; the most she'd get was a little dirty.
Standing up, she brushed her skirt. She turned toward the opened window. "Get out of there!" Haru told her classmates. Only a handful obliged and leaped out of the windows. Several others chose to cower in fear, or try to escape through the doorway.
As much as she'd love to help them all, Haru had more pressing matters to do. Like finding her family and getting them to a safe place. She couldn't afford to die here and now. And of course, as the fantastic Agent K from that American movie called Men in Black once said, "A person is smart; people are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it."
So she ran home instead of help her classmates. It was a bit cruel of her to do such a thing, but her family would always be put first. But as she ran home, Haru couldn't help be feel the adrenaline pumping through her. In that tiny, twisted corner of her mind with her deepest and cruelest thoughts, she was excited about this.
Things like this only happened in movies. But now? Now it was magically real.
She pinched her arm. Grinned.
"Yep, this is definitely real."
…*…
Tsuna was tired of school, tired of his classmates, but mostly, tired of himself. He was sick of being so useless, sick of being "No Good Tsuna." But since people couldn't change so easily, so he was stuck with it. For now, at least.
He stared out the window of the bus, resting his head against the cool glass. Stores, people, and cars zoomed past him. He managed to score a vacant seat all the way in the back of the bus. This was, what? The fifth time he skipped school this month? His mom would probably give him the "I'm so disappointed in you, why are you useless, Tsuna?" speech.
Sometimes he just hated people and society. He hated that in order to live a good decent life; he had to meet the standards that people in the past established. He just wished it'd all go away – school, his classmates, society.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU - MY HAND! MY HAND! OH MY FUCKING GOD, LET ME GO! NO! NOOOO!"
"WHAT'S GOING ON?"
"WE'RE GOING TO DIE, HOLY FUCK WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"
"PRAY, EVERYONE PRAY! PRAY TO GOD! REPENT! OH LORD IN HEAVEN-!"
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"
"MY EYES! MY EYES! ARGUUUHHH!"
"-FORGIVE MY SINS, FORGIVE THE SINS OF MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS. OH LORD IN - AUGH! MY NECK, MY NECK!"
"GET ME OFF THIS FUCKING BUS!"
"BUS DRIVER, STOP THIS FUCKING THING!"
He whipped his head around and faced the commotion – oh how Tsuna wished he hadn't. A man was biting into the neck of a woman. A child had blood dribbling down his chin and a severed hand in his mouth. A woman gouged the eyes out of a teenaged boy and began to eat them.
Tsuna screamed so loudly that he knew that he wouldn't be able to talk for a while. That is, if he lived long enough.
…*…
Haru's father was a zombie. Okay, so she wasn't expecting that. Not at all. Her father was a zombie and he was trying to kill her – how'd she be able to expect that? Well, no, he was trying to eat her at which she'd die and then become a zombie too. But she'd still die either way, so yes, he was trying to kill her.
He didn't look like one, a zombie that is – really, he didn't. He still had that same, fatherly look to him. His face wasn't all rotting and disgusting. They only way she could tell that he should've been dead was the fact that she could see his ribcage. A large chunk of skin and clothing that would normally cover his ribcage was missing. And his eyes. His dead, vacant eyes. Those were the only two ways she could tell.
He was a zombie, no doubt about it.
And he was going to kill her if she didn't do anything.
The smile from earlier was wiped off her face and all previous adrenaline she had vanished. Only terror was left inside of her. She clutched the knife she managed to snatch from the kitchen before being driven out in the living room close to her. She had a sucky weapon. She was a bit of an airhead. She was bubbly and enthusiastic. If she had blond hair, she'd be set for that dumb girl who dies first in a low-budget horror film.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
"Haru," her father said. God, he even sounded the same. "Haru, I love you so much. Come give your father a hug. C'mere. Put the knife down, dear. Give your old man a hug."
Her gut twisted around. She tightened her grip around the blade. It was possibly the worst weapon to have for a zombie apocalypse. And…and could she even kill her own father? Was he even her father anymore? He was dead. Infected. Zombiefied. He…he wasn't really her father right?
She raised the knife and charged at him.
"I'm sorry, Dad."
…*…
Tsuna was insane. It was official, he had gone crazy. Or he was dreaming. But the cuts on his knees and hands told him otherwise. Oh gosh. Why'd he jump off that bus? A moving bus, no less!
He was insane.
This was insane, too. What the hell happened back there? He shuddered. There was no need to bring those thoughts back up - if he did, he was afraid he might bring some of his breakfast up, too. He looked around; his house was pretty close by. He'd head there disinfect himself. Then…the he'd watch the news. Maybe they put a warning about some serial cannibals in the city and he missed it?
Yeah.
That was it. That was probably all there was to the matter. Cannibals. Crazy cannibals.
…*...
"Why, why would do that, sweetie?" Haru's father asked, blood dripping from the cut on his arm. "Why would you raise such a weapon at your old man? Have you no respect?"
After creating the cut, Haru made as much distance away from him as possible and took a moment to recover, but he was too fast. Within seconds, he covered the distance between them and jumped at her. She pushed herself back, but he managed to grab her wrist. He leaned over and bit into her left hand.
He began to gnaw at her hand.
Oh god.
He was eating her hand.
Oh god. Oh god.
She didn't know what came over her next. All she knew was that she had brought the knife down and stabbed in the back of his head. She then ripped it out and stabbed him again and again until he stopped moving – until he stopped trying eating her hand.
She then tore her hand away from his mouth. Several of her fingers were missing. It was a disgusting sight. While she liked deformed things, she had her standards. This…this was just…oh god.
She retched her breakfast down onto the wooden floor of her living room. She'd have to cut her hand off now, lest she become one of the Infected like him. She headed for the kitchen and found the large butcher knife she sometimes used when it was her turn to cook dinner. She set her repulsive hand on the counter.
She held her breath. She'd first break her wrist, then remove the arm, and then stop the bleeding with a tourniquet – she was lucky her mother's paranoia made her think that, after hearing about that hiker who had to cut his arm off in the wildness, Haru and her father would somehow be forced to cut their own limbs in a life or death situation.
Okay.
She sighed.
Okay.
"Deep breathes, Haru," she told herself. The room was starting to spin. She shook her head, and for a moment, everything stilled. "We're doing this in one…two…three."
Snap!
She took a sharp intake of breath. That hurt like hell, but it was for her survival. She held up the knife. Time seemed to slow as she brought the knife down.
Slash!
Blood managed to get on her face. Her right hand – the uncut one – was shaking and her tears streamed down her face. But whatever, she had to do this. She would not allow herself to die so easily. She'd live. She'd live. She would not die. She would definitely not die by the hands of her zombiefied father.
"F-finally," she muttered as she got the tourniquet on her wrist. And just like that, the bleeding stopped. She leaned against the counter, suddenly feeling very dizzy. She closed her eyes. Sweat trickled down her face. Fuck. What if she died from shock or blood loss? She didn't even take that into account. Fuck. Sometimes she was the dumbest person in existence.
She tensed immediately at the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming down stairs. But who would that–?
Wait.
Her mother.
She snapped her eyes opened. If her mother went to work at five pm, meaning that she would most definitely be home. And if had come into contact with her father….
Oh god.
Oh god no.
…*…
"…Mom?" Tsuna frowned. The lights were off. Was she not home? He walked into the kitchen. Light streamed in from the windows. He headed over to the counter and opened the drawers where his mom kept the gauze and alcohol rub.
He turned the tap on and ran the water over his hands. It felt nice. He then cupped some of the water and brought it down his to his knees.
Splash!
Damn. Not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. Now the floor was wet. His socks, too. Great. Tsuna ran over to the counter and grabbed some paper towels. Quickly as he could, he cleaned up the mess. Now, to clean up his wounds.
He poured some rubbing alcohol onto a paper towel and pressed it against his knees, then his hands. He hissed at the sharp pain the alcohol rub caused. When he finished with that, he wrapped his hands and knees with the gauze. He was in the midst of putting the alcohol rub away when he saw a figure standing by the doorway in his peripheral vision.
"Oh, hi mom," he muttered.
"Tsuna," she sighed. "What will I do with you? You're so useless!"
He lowered his head. "Sorry."
"You need to make your Mama proud," she continued. Her breath tickled his skin. When'd she get behind him? "Do you know how to make your Mama proud?"
He slinked away from her. Great, she was acting weird and embarrassing again! However, this time, she grabbed his arm. Her eyes narrowed.
"If you want to make Mama proud, Tsuna," she continued, her was smile somehow more sinister than usual. "You need to die like Mama."
…*…
Hands snaked around her neck. They stayed there. They were choking her. Haru couldn't breath, she couldn't breath, oh god she couldn't breathe. Her mother was choking her, killing her. Zombies didn't do this! They weren't supposed to kill people through these means!
"I'm sorry, dearie," her mother told her, acting as if she had read her mind. "I just like my meals dead."
"Let…me…go!" she wheezed, using whatever little strength she had to jab the knife into where she hoped was somewhere remotely near her mother.
"You little bitch!" her mother screamed, punching the side of Haru's head. Haru staggered. Everything was blurred. She swayed and almost fell. She just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Why on earth did she get excited over something like this? What was her problem?
"…Live…got to…live." Haru readied the knife in her hand and charged at the blur what was her mother. She aimed for her head area, hoping to land a hit somewhere vital.
Time slowed again.
The knife met with something thankfully, but it said wherever she had stabbed. Her mother fell to the ground. Did she hit her temple? Her forehead? Eyes? Haru didn't know – she was glad to not know. She…she had to kill another one of her parents. Why'd she think this would be cool?
Why…why on earth was she excited about this?
The dark red of her mother's blood stood out on Haru's pale face. She felt sick. She vomited what little food was in her system. Her face was wet with sweat and blood. Breathing hard, Haru headed toward her front door, nearly falling over twice. She had to get out. She had to find…help.
She had to…
She had…
She…
Survive…
Not…
Die…
…*…
"Mama…what are you doing?" Tsuna was on all fours now. After ducking way from her clutches – something he always did whenever she tried to pinch his cheeks or ruffle his hair – he could've sworn she was trying to bite him.
"Mama needs to kill you, sweetie," she explained, acting as if she hadn't just stated she was going to kill her only son. "Then, only then, will you do Mama proud."
"S-s-stop kidding around, Mama." His grip around the alcohol rub tightened. He didn't even remember taking it with him. The cap, which he probably didn't screw on tightly, came loose and rolled on the floor.
It stopped just short of his mother. She looked down at it before returning her gaze to Tsuna. "You've got to die, sweetie. Die with you Mama, c'mon, do it."
"M-ma-mama," he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I think-k you need to take a rest."
And then he blinked, and in that instant, she her hand found it's way on his throat. "Ah, don't disappoint me now, Tsuna," she told him. "You can't now, you just can't. I've let you disappoint me for far too long now. Do your Mama proud, honey, just die."
Her hands closed around his throat. In some form of panicked instinct, he threw the alcohol rub bottle at her face.
"MY EYES!" she shrieked, releasing him and covering her eyes. "MY EYES! YOU STUPID LITTLE – MY EYES! HOW COULD YOU? TO YOUR OWN MOTHER, TOO? WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU SO I CAN KILL YOU? COME HERE THIS INSTANCE, YOU NO GOOD CHILD!"
With her now temporarily blinded, he bolted for the door not looking back once. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Not after that. He didn't know where he was heading for, but it sure as hell wasn't back there.
"I'm so so so sorry, Mama!"
…*…
He didn't know what to expect, really. He waltzed into the neighborhood, guns ready to exterminate any of the Infectees. Of course, his guns were ready for everything and anything –especially his target.
However, what he did not expect to see was a dying girl on lying in the doorway of what he assumed to be her house. Nor did he expect to see two Infectees inside of the girl's house, both dead. One, a man, had several severed fingers in his mouth and stab wounds in the back of his head. The other, a woman, had a butcher's knife lodged in her temple.
He examined the dying girl. Her left hand was cut off. He guessed that the man had bitten her hand she was smart enough to amputate her hand before the Project kicked in.
Smart girl. Resourceful, too. Not bad on the eyes either – in fact, she sort of, in a tiny way, reminded him of…ah. He felt a hand grab and squeeze his heart. He couldn't even utter her name yet. How sad. Depressing, even.
Regardless, he was still a paid killer – a hitman. One with a job. A job that would be done without the usage of his useless feelings.
Logical people live prosperously. Stupid, weak people who let their emotions get the best of them ultimately die, he reminded himself.
He adjusted the black fedora hat on his head. Smirked. Bent over and hauled the girl over his shoulder. "Ciaossu," he told her, well-aware she couldn't hear him. "I'm Reborn. I like you. You seem useful, so I think I'll keep you."
"When there's no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth.
Peter, Dawn of the Dead (1978)